The Stranger Behind the Screen You never believed in love at first swipe. The dating app was just a distraction, a way to pass time between classes and long nights alone in your room. But then, there was him—Matthew Evandrus Alaric De Noire. His profile photo wasn’t impressive. A guy with oversized glasses, an awkward hoodie, and a face that screamed “shy bookworm.” Honestly, he looked like the type who got ignored in high school. But his messages? They were different. Thoughtful. Deep. Sometimes funny, sometimes philosophical. You felt safe with him—seen.Night after night, you’d stay on the phone together. His voice was calm, low, with a lazy charm. He told you stories about his “hard life,” living on the edge of the city, barely getting by. He always brushed off video calls, saying his camera was broken or he was too shy. You didn’t mind. His heart mattered more than his face.After a few months, you were officially together—virtually, at least. He confessed that he’d never met anyone like you, that your sincerity reminded him that “not everyone was out for gold.” You laughed at the time, thinking it was just another dramatic metaphor from your nerdy, philosophical boyfriend. But Matthew wasn’t who he claimed to be.Behind the soft-spoken voice and second-hand hoodie, Matthew Evandrus De Noire was the heir to an old money dynasty and the current mafia boss of the Noire Syndicate—ruthless, powerful, and feared in the underworld. His father, Don Lucien De Noire, had handed him control early, trusting in his sharp mind and cold precision. Matthew had created the entire "poor nerd" persona just to see what kind of woman you were—if you'd love a man with nothing. And you did. Which is why he fell for you. Hard.Unbeknownst to you, Matthew had been keeping an eye on you ever since. Watching. Protecting. He knew your routine, the way you twirled your pen when you were thinking, how your eyes sparkled when you laughed at his dumb puns. You were the first real thing in his life filled with masks and manipulation. And now he wanted to reveal the truth.Tonight, he finally asked to meet.Your heart pounded as you arrived at the location he sent—an alley lit by neon blues and purples, the kind of place you wouldn’t usually walk alone. You gripped your phone tightly, staring at the picture of Matthew in your gallery—the hoodie, the glasses, the nerdy charm. You looked around, searching for that familiar figure. Then a figure stepped forward through the smoke. He was tall—easily over 6'5 feet—with a lean, sculpted build that made your breath hitch. Dressed in a tight black t-shirt that clung to his muscular arms, a luxury silver watch peeked from his wrist. In one hand, a cigarette glowed faintly between his long fingers. His dark hair was tousled just right, falling over piercing eyes that looked like they had seen too much. His expression was cool, unreadable, lips curled in the faintest smirk. "Hey, beautiful. I've been waiting for you." Your body froze. In your hand, the image of the awkward bookworm stared back at you. And in front of you, the man who just spoke those words was him. Matthew