Across the city, dawn's first light spilled lazily across Ayla's room, painting her skin in warm gold. She lay still, the silence pressing in, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as though the answer to her unrest might be hidden in the plaster.
The alarm had long since gone quiet, silenced with a half-asleep swipe, but the heaviness in her chest was louder than any beeping clock. She pulled the sheet closer, curling into herself as fragments of last night refused to loosen their grip and she stirred, eyes fluttering open to the cool morning air.
Her fingers found the snooze button, but the memories of last night—the kiss at the gala, the heat in Cain's gaze, the way his hand had lingered against her lower back—clung to her like a second skin.
Her heart ached. Cain was both near and impossibly far. She curled deeper into the sheets, unwilling to face the day without that fleeting warmth.
---
Miles away, Cain jolted awake, his breath uneven. For a moment, the images clung to him like smoke—Ayla's skin against his, her lips parting under his, her voice catching as if she belonged entirely to him. It had felt so real he could still taste her.
Then Selene shifted beside him. Her dark hair spilled across the pillow, her breathing steady and untroubled. The dream dissolved, leaving only a bitter aftertaste and the quiet, gnawing guilt that had been his shadow since the gala.
He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her, and reached for his phone. No messages. No excuse to see her. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about Ayla.
---
Ayla eventually forced herself up and dressed for work, her thoughts circling back to him despite her best efforts. She was halfway through tying her hair when her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Can't stop thinking about you.
Her pulse jumped. She read the words again, her fingers hovering over the screen.
It couldn't be anyone else. Cain.
She typed back before she could think twice.
Ayla: You shouldn't be saying this.
The reply came almost instantly.
Unknown Number: But it's true. I need to see you.
Address: Skyline Garden Rooftop Restaurant
Via della Luna 27, 5th Floor
Florence.
Her chest tightened. Memories of his hands on her waist, the burn of his kiss, rushed back. She told herself it was wrong. She told herself to ignore him. And yet…
---
Cain sat at the edge of his desk later that morning, staring at spreadsheets he couldn't read. Every sound outside his office made him look up, half-expecting her to appear in the doorway.
Selene leaned against the wall, sipping her coffee and watching him with faint amusement. "You've been distracted since you woke up. Something on your mind?"
He forced a neutral smile. "Just work."
She studied him for a second too long, then let it drop. "Dinner tonight?"
"Sure," he said automatically, though his phone in his pocket felt heavier than it should.
---
By noon, the messages had grown bolder.
Unknown Number: Meet me after work. Just us.
Address: Skyline Garden Rooftop Restaurant
Via della Luna 27, 5th Floor
Florence.
She wondered what Cain wants to discuss in such a fancy open restaurant.
Ayla's fingers trembled. Her head told her to say no. Her heart—it was already answering yes.
She tucked the phone away and went about her day, but every vibration drew her back. She began planning—just in case—what she'd say when they met. What she'd do if he reached for her again.
---
On the other side of town, Nathan grinned as he pocketed his phone. The messages had landed perfectly. She would have no idea it was him, not until he stepped out with the velvet ring box and the rooftop lights.
He'd been planning the proposal for weeks. Tonight, she'd finally say yes.
The afternoon dragged like wet cloth. Ayla tried to focus on her meetings, but every time her phone buzzed, her pulse skipped. She stopped checking the name entirely—every message felt like him.
By three o'clock, she caught herself staring at the office window, her reflection pale and distracted.
"Everything alright?" her colleague Maya asked, handing over a file.
"Yes, just… didn't sleep well," Ayla lied, tucking her phone deeper into her bag. She wasn't ready to share this with anyone. Not when she didn't even understand it herself.
---
Cain leaned back in his chair, staring at the city skyline. The numbers on the report in front of him swam together into meaningless shapes. He rubbed his temples, but the ache behind his eyes was more than just fatigue—it was the ache of restraint.
His mind kept replaying the dream. Ayla's fingers in his hair. The sound she'd made when he'd whispered her name.
It was just a dream, he told himself.
But dreams don't make your chest feel like it's caving in.
He reached for his phone more than once, scrolling through contacts until her name hovered on the screen. Each time, he set it down again, jaw tight.
---
Meanwhile, Nathan's day was unfolding with the precision of a chess game.
The rooftop venue had been strung with warm lights, a private table set for two. Champagne chilled in a silver bucket, and the velvet ring box rested in his jacket pocket like a live wire.
He sent another message.
Unknown Number: Be ready by 7. I'll be waiting.
He imagined the look on her face when she realized it had been him all along. She'd laugh, maybe swat his arm for tricking her—and then, she'd say yes. She had to.
---
By the time Ayla left work, the sky had turned a deep blush, the first stars peeking out. She kept telling herself she shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't be going to him.
But she still slipped into the back of a cab, her fingers brushing her lips as if they could remember his kiss.
Her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: Don't be late. I can't wait to see you.
Her breath caught. This was madness. Dangerous. Irresistible.
---
Cain left the office later than usual. Traffic crawled along the avenue, his thoughts miles ahead of him. Something gnawed at him—like the night before a storm.
He didn't know where she was, but he could feel her pulling away.
---
Nathan checked his watch on the rooftop, the city stretching in glittering waves below. Everything was perfect. In just minutes, she'd walk through the door… and change his life forever.
---
Ayla's cab slowed in front of the tall building. She stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement, heart pounding like it might give her away.
She didn't see Cain's car idling two streets over. Or the way his head turned sharply when he thought he recognized her silhouette in the fading light.
---
The elevator doors slid open with a chime. Ayla stepped inside, the message thread still glowing in her hand.
She didn't notice the man waiting at the top, a velvet box hidden behind his back.
And she didn't notice that it wasn't Cain.