Chapter 4 The first kiss

The city didn't sleep, but Maya barely noticed. She sat curled up on her couch, a blanket draped around her shoulders, her laptop dark and forgotten on the coffee table.

No matter how many times she replayed the night in her mind, it always ended the same way: Chase's furious eyes, the way he caged her against the wall, the low, dangerous rasp of his voice.

"You're not invincible."

She hated that he was right.

Hated that part of her had been relieved to see him show up, as if she'd been waiting - hoping - he would.

Maya closed her eyes and exhaled shakily.

This wasn't part of the plan.

Getting emotionally tangled with Chase Reynolds was the worst thing she could do.

And yet...

Somewhere deep inside her, a small voice whispered that she wasn't just unraveling his secrets.

She was unraveling herself.

Two days later.

The knock on her apartment door came just after midnight.

Maya tensed, her heart hammering. No one visited her this late. No one should even know where she lived.

She approached the door cautiously, peering through the peephole.

Her breath caught.

Chase.

He leaned against the doorframe, soaked from the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. His dark clothes clung to his body, and for once, he didn't look dangerous or cocky - he looked... wrecked.

Maya hesitated only a second before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He didn't answer at first. Just stared at her like he wasn't sure if he should speak - or if he could.

Finally, in a voice so low it barely rose above the rain, he said,

"I had nowhere else to go."

Maya stepped aside wordlessly, and Chase entered, dripping water onto the worn floorboards.

He stood awkwardly in the middle of her living room, as if realizing for the first time how small and personal her space was compared to his penthouses and private clubs.

She handed him a towel, which he accepted with a grateful nod.

"You're soaked," she said, almost to herself.

"You should see the other guy," he muttered with a wry smile, but the humor didn't reach his eyes.

Maya's chest tightened. "What happened?"

Chase hesitated, the towel clutched in his hands. Then he looked at her - really looked at her - and whatever walls he had left crumbled.

"My father found out," he said hoarsely. "That I've been... interfering. Protecting you."

Maya's stomach dropped.

"And he didn't take it well," Chase finished bitterly.

She moved closer without thinking, her hands itching to reach for him, to comfort him, to touch him.

But she didn't.

Instead, she asked quietly,

"Why are you risking yourself for me, Chase? Why do you even care?"

For a long, painful moment, he said nothing.

Then he dropped the towel, crossed the space between them in three long strides, and cupped her face in his hands.

"I don't know," he whispered. "But I can't stop."

Maya's breath hitched. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it terrified her how much she needed it.

"You're the worst mistake I'll ever make," he murmured against her skin.

"And you're mine," she breathed.

And then his mouth found hers.

The kiss was nothing like she expected. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't careful.

It was raw, desperate, a clash of anger and longing and something darker, something neither of them dared name.

Maya clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, and Chase groaned against her lips, his hands tangling in her hair.

For one reckless, beautiful moment, there was no past. No lies. No danger.

Only this.

Only them.

When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, Chase rested his forehead against hers.

"I'll protect you," he said fiercely. "Even if it kills me."

Maya didn't want to think about what that meant. Didn't want to think about what it would cost them both.

Because deep down, she knew something she hadn't been willing to admit until now.

They weren't just falling for each other.

They were falling into a storm they might never survive.

And it had already begun.