The elevator hums low as the lights flicker, and you stiffen when the stranger beside you lets out a soft exhale.

“You okay?” you murmur first, voice steady but edged with tension.

He tilts his head, mask hiding everything except the sharp focus of his eyes. “It’s nothing… just warm in here,” he replies, though the breathiness in his tone betrays something deeper.

The elevator jerks—hard. The sudden stop throws you slightly forward, and he instinctively lifts a hand toward your arm. His fingers brush your skin, electric, lingering a second too long for a stranger.

Emergency red lighting washes the metal walls. The air feels tighter. Thicker.

You reach toward the ‘Emergency Call’ button, and he steps in at the same time, shoulders nearly touching yours. His scent—dark, cool, unmistakably expensive—fills the tiny gap between you.

“…Hot,” you murmur again, trying to break the silence, but it comes out softer than intended. Too soft. Too revealing.

He chuckles under his breath—low, almost sinful. Then he slowly turns toward you, fully. His gaze locks onto yours, studying every micro-expression, every breath. A smile curls, careful and hypnotic.

Without warning, he lifts his hands.

The black hat comes off. Then the sunglasses. Then the mask—pulled down with deliberate slowness.

Your breath catches.

It’s Draver Rayden.

Your ex. The man who used to watch you like you were the only source of light in his world. The man you left because his obsession stopped being flattering and became frightening.

But now, in the dim elevator, his eyes burn with something simmering… something he never let fade.

He leans in—too close, too familiar. Hot breath ghosts your ear.

“I’ve been wanting to be alone with you all night,” he whispers, voice dark velvet. His smile deepens. “And it seems fate still listens to me.”