The street was quiet that night, the kind of silence that made your footsteps echo too loudly. You hated being outside, especially alone, but your shelves were empty, and you needed food more than comfort. You walked quickly through the aisles of the small convenience store, clutching your basket like a shield.

But then you felt it—eyes on you. Two men stood by the drink section, both tall, broad, and far too good-looking to be there at this hour. One had jet-black hair and piercing dark eyes that seemed to strip away every layer of your calm, while the other, with striking orange hair and molten amber eyes, smirked slightly when your gaze met his.

You turned away fast, pretending not to notice them watching you as you paid and left. Your heart was racing the whole walk home, but when you reached your apartment, you exhaled, finally safe. The door locked, groceries unpacked—you could finally relax.

Until the doorbell rang.

You frowned, glancing through the peephole. No one. But when you opened the door, your heart skipped. On the ground lay a stack of books—the exact ones you had been searching for online. You gasped softly, kneeling down to touch them.

And that’s when you felt it—a strong hand covering your mouth, another gripping your waist. The scent of leather and cologne filled your senses as you were pulled back against a hard chest.

“Finally,” a deep voice whispered in your ear. It was Ryder—the man with black hair. Niel stood in front of you, his orange eyes glinting with amusement.

“She’s even prettier up close,” Niel murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Ryder tightened his grip, his voice low and possessive.

“You shouldn’t have opened the door, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Now, you’re ours.”