Alya's footsteps felt heavy as she stepped back into her silent apartment. The air inside suddenly felt hollow after everything she had experienced at Rehan's vacation home earlier. The doubts weighing on her heart intensified, battering the sanity she had always prided herself on as a professional journalist. Alya went straight to the bathroom, letting warm water wash over her body and ease her exhaustion, then collapsed onto the bed in a loose, thin silk nightgown.
She had barely closed her eyes to soothe her throbbing head when the phone on the nightstand began vibrating violently. An incoming video call. The name on the screen made her heart beat twice as fast: Arshaka.
The man was overseas, yet his sharp gaze and domineering aura seemed to pierce the thousands of miles between them. Alya swiped the green button, and Arshaka's face immediately filled the phone screen. He appeared to be in a luxurious hotel room, his shirt slightly open at the top and his sleeves rolled up, revealing the solid muscles of his arms.
Arshaka's hawklike eyes narrowed the instant he saw Alya, who had just finished showering. Her half-wet hair and the neckline of her nightgown, which revealed her smooth, pale skin, immediately ignited the mafia man's desire.
“You look absolutely torturous, baby,” Arshaka's baritone came through rough, deep, and thick with possessive demand. The corner of his mouth lifted into a dangerous crooked smile. “Why do you always manage to drive me crazy, even from this far away?”
Alya swallowed. She should have ended the call or scolded him. But the poison of Arshaka's touch, already coursing through her bloodstream, made her body betray her. Arshaka's handsome face, the sexy lips that usually kissed her so wildly, and the man's commanding words stirred a wave of heat in Alya's stomach. Her breathing began to quicken. Instead of pulling away, Alya shifted her position, allowing the phone's camera to capture her curves more clearly while she stared at the screen with a heated, intent gaze.
Hot, urgent dialogue laced with possessiveness flowed between them. The thousands of miles separating them melted away in an instant beneath the burning force of their desire. In her silent apartment bedroom, Alya surrendered to the wild desire controlled by the man's shadow, reaching her climax guided by Arshaka's deep voice at the other end of the call. When it was all over and their breathing had grown ragged, Alya stared at the now-dark phone screen with a mixture of dread and pleasure. I'm addicted, Alya cursed inwardly, realizing that Arshaka's snare was far deadlier than she had imagined.
Meanwhile, in a completely different place, an entirely opposite mood settled over the aesthetic house where Rehan was recovering. In a dim corner of the room, a woman sat curled up in silence, burying her face between her knees. Aurel cried soundlessly. Her tears slid down her cheeks as she mourned the unrequited love she had kept buried for the man she had cared for with all her heart and soul. Aurel was a sincere woman, but she also had her pride; she did not want to force fate, much less steal the heart of a man still bound to his past with Alya.
Realizing it was time for Rehan's evening vitamins and medication, Aurel quickly wiped away her tears. She straightened her clothes, arranged her expression into the calmest smile she could manage, then knocked on Rehan's bedroom door before entering with graceful steps.
“Time for your vitamins, Rehan,” Aurel said softly, handing him a glass of water and a row of pills on a small tray.
Rehan accepted the tray with a faint smile. For the past six months, he had witnessed firsthand how Aurel cared for him with tenderness, sincerity, and limitless patience. Aurel was a nurturing homebody with a gentle heart and graceful manner, yet at times she could show an adorably spoiled side. Those qualities had slowly worked their way into Rehan's heart, and he had come to love them—a sense of peace he had never found in the ambitious, stubborn Alya.
Aurel stood by the window, trying to hide the remnants of sadness in her eyes. But Rehan caught the movement. A man's instincts told him that the woman before him had given him her entire heart without asking for anything in return.
Rehan set his glass on the nightstand, then rose from his seat. He walked toward Aurel. She turned with a startled look when Rehan stopped directly in front of her and wrapped his warm hands around both her shoulders.
“Aurel,” Rehan called in a low, soothing voice.
“What is it, Rehan? Is something missing?” Aurel asked awkwardly, her heart pounding.
Rehan did not answer with words. Tonight, beneath the dim bedroom light, he wanted to test his own feelings. He wanted to make sure whether Alya's shadow truly remained the only ruler of his soul—or whether the space in his heart had slowly been claimed by the sincere woman standing before him.
Gathering his courage little by little, Rehan leaned closer, gazing straight into Aurel's trembling eyes before bringing their lips together in a soft, warm kiss filled with doubt that was slowly finding its answer.