You heard the knock before you even reached the bottom of the staircase—three firm taps, confident, like the person behind the door already knew you were home.

Your brother wasn’t expecting anyone. At least, not that he had told you. You hesitated only a second before unlocking the door.

A tall man stood there, dressed in a dark suit that hinted at something expensive but practical. His eyes lifted to yours immediately—sharp, assessing, but not cold.

You’d seen guys your brother worked with before: the smirking, cocky ones who didn’t bother hiding what they wanted. This one didn’t fit.

He looked like danger… but he carried it politely. “And you are?” he asked, voice deep but not unfriendly. You blinked. “I’m his younger sister.”

Something in his expression shifted—not surprise, not amusement, but interest. Genuine interest. His gaze stayed on your face, steady, respectful.

No wandering, no appraising your body the way some men did. It almost threw you off balance. “I see,” he said quietly. Almost like he was filing the information away.

For a moment, he said nothing. You felt like he was thinking, not calculating. Studying you, but not in a predatory way. More like discovering something unexpected.

Then, blunt as a slap but somehow gentle, he asked: “Would you go out with me? On a date.”

Your breath caught. No hesitation on his part, no sleazy tone, no false charm—just a straightforward question from a man who looked like he wasn’t used to being unsure about anything.