The Desire A Tale Of Luna's Longing

Vincenzo's POV

Standing in the middle of the large gathering, surrounded by the restless murmurs of the crowd, my eyes wander aimlessly across the clearing. Unlike the other teenagers beside me-who stand practically vibrating with excitement, their eyes darting around in anticipation of finding their destined mates-my gaze searches for no one.

I am not looking for a mate.

In fact, the very thought of having one makes something inside me twist uncomfortably. The idea alone is enough to make my stomach churn.

If anything, I wish the exact opposite.

How I wish the Moon Goddess had simply decided not to create anyone for me.

Life would be far easier that way.

The possibility that somewhere out there a girl exists who might be bound to me by fate fills me with an uneasy sense of guilt. I know, deep down, that if I ever do meet my supposed mate, I will most likely reject her.

And for reasons I cannot fully explain, that thought weighs heavily on my conscience.

No one deserves to be rejected for something they had no control over.

But neither do I deserve to be trapped in a bond I never asked for.

My gaze drifts again toward the curious crowd gathered around the clearing-the people who proudly call themselves a pack.

This is not just any pack.

This is one of the richest packs in the world.

Every single member here is a billionaire. Power and wealth flow through our pack like blood through veins. Our members hold influential positions across industries, politics, finance, and international corporations. Some run empires; others control markets.

Unlike traditional werewolf packs that live together in a massive pack house, tightly clustered under the Alpha's roof, our pack functions very differently.

We are a modern pack.

No one lives together here.

Every family owns their own mansion, often located in different cities or even different countries. Our members are scattered across the globe, yet our influence keeps us tightly connected. Whenever something important arises, we gather like this-wealthy, powerful wolves standing side by side.

And despite our modern lifestyle, we remain one of the strongest packs in existence.

Not just because of our wealth.

But because of the positions we hold in the human world.

We are everywhere.

And tonight, every single one of them has gathered here for one reason.

My awakening.

The thought alone makes a bitter taste rise in my mouth.

I want to run.

I want to escape this place, this clearing, these eyes staring at me as if I am some kind of spectacle meant for their entertainment.

Curious gazes follow my every movement.

Some curious.

Some judgmental.

Some simply waiting to see something interesting happen.

A painful smile slowly stretches across my lips as I look at them.

Hypocrites.

I wonder what twisted pleasure people get from watching someone suffer. What satisfaction they feel from pushing someone down-lower and lower-until that person finally breaks.

My gaze slowly shifts toward the opposite side of the clearing.

The elders stand there in a semi-circle, dressed in ceremonial robes, their faces calm and solemn as they wait to witness my awakening.

According to tradition, tonight marks the moment when I will finally meet my wolf.

But the Moon Goddess seems to have other plans.

Above us, the moon repeatedly disappears behind thick clouds before reappearing again, as if playing an irritating game of hide-and-seek. Each time it vanishes, the clearing grows darker, the tension heavier.

It feels as though even the moon itself is testing my patience.

I take a slow breath, trying to keep my growing annoyance under control.

My eyes wander again, scanning the crowd until they land on a familiar figure standing at the far corner.

My mother.

She stands there with a radiant smile on her face, her eyes shining with excitement and pride. Her hands are clasped together tightly, as though she has been silently praying for this moment for years.

For her, this night is something special.

Something hopeful.

Directly in the first row stands my so-called father.

His expression, as always, is completely unreadable.

His face remains stoic, emotionless, as if he is merely attending another routine gathering rather than witnessing the awakening of his own son.

Beside him stand two people who matter far more to me.

My grandfather.

And my stepbrother.

When my eyes meet theirs, both offer small, reassuring smiles.

My lips tilt upward slightly when I look at my stepbrother.

Technically, he is my stepbrother.

But in truth, he has always been far more than that.

More like a father figure.

More like the man I looked up to when I was growing up.

He is everything someone could possibly want in a man.

A powerful Alpha who has led countless battles to protect his pack.

A respected leader.

A devoted son.

A loving husband.

A caring father.

He carries responsibility with ease and commands respect without even trying.

He is everything a true Alpha should be.

And everything I am not.

I already know what he will ask me after tonight.

He will want me to stand beside him.

To become his Beta.

But he also knows the truth.

There is not the slightest possibility of that happening.

Tomorrow, I leave for my higher studies.

And when I leave...

I have no intention of ever looking back.

My thoughts shatter the moment the air fills with the sound of holy chanting.

The elders begin reciting ancient words in a deep, rhythmic tone. Their voices echo through the clearing, growing louder and stronger with each passing second.

The ritual has begun.

A sudden, brutal pain shoots through my body.

It feels as though every bone inside me is shattering at the same time.

My knees buckle slightly as a wave of agony crashes over me.

A strangled gasp escapes my throat as my bones begin to crack.

The sound is horrifying.

Sharp.

Loud.

Unavoidable.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I clench my teeth so tightly my jaw aches.

I knew this would happen.

Every werewolf goes through this pain during their first shift.

It is one of the curses of our existence.

The elders shout commands, urging me to shift.

But their voices barely reach my ears through the roaring pain flooding my body.

Whether they order it or not...

I am going to shift.

A burning sensation spreads through my eyes, making my vision blur. My fingers tremble as sharp claws suddenly burst through the tips.

My hands twist painfully, bones bending and reshaping as they slowly transform into paws.

My legs follow soon after.

The pain becomes unbearable.

My balance collapses completely, and I fall forward as my newly formed paw slams against the dusty ground.

More bones snap.

More muscles stretch and tear before reforming.

Within moments, my human form disappears.

In its place stands a wolf.

Black fur spreads across my body like dark smoke.

For a brief second, everything goes silent.

Then-

Scents explode into my senses.

Hundreds of unfamiliar smells rush into my nostrils at once.

Perfume.

Sweat.

Food.

Flowers.

Wood.

Dirt.

The overwhelming mixture makes my head spin.

My stomach churns as the scents attack my senses all at once.

My breathing becomes uneven.

My heart races wildly as I look down at myself.

Black fur.

Thick.

Dark.

Powerful.

Slowly, I close my eyes and reach inward.

And that is when I meet him.

My wolf.

He stands inside my mind, strong and silent, watching me with intelligent eyes.

His name comes to me instantly.

Nate.

As if he has always been there.

Nate quickly senses my confusion and discomfort. Without needing words, he understands exactly what I am feeling.

Calmness slowly begins to spread through my mind.

He reassures me.

And for the first time tonight, my breathing steadies.

I silently thank the Moon Goddess for giving me a wolf who understands me.

Opening my eyes again, I look around the clearing.

Usually, when someone completes their first shift, the pack erupts into cheers.

Tonight...

There is nothing.

No applause.

No excitement.

No celebration.

They are only here because their Alpha ordered them to attend.

My awakening brings no joy to this pack.

It never has.

They have never truly considered me one of them.

Among the hundreds of people standing here, only three look genuinely happy.

My mother.

My brother.

My grandfather.

No one else cares.

According to tradition, the next step of the ritual begins.

In front of me, a line of unmated she-wolves stands quietly.

They were called here in case one of them happens to be my mate.

My stomach tightens at the thought.

Honestly, I do not want to look at any of them.

I want this entire ritual to end as quickly as possible.

But time seems to slow to a crawl.

I feel irritation bubbling inside me.

Anger begins creeping through my veins for no clear reason.

A dangerous instinct stirs within me.

For a brief moment, I feel the sudden urge to rip someone apart.

I force myself to breathe slowly.

Then I lift my head and look toward the line of she-wolves.

Ironically, they appear just as uninterested in me as I am in them.

Some stare at their perfectly manicured nails.

Others glance around the clearing with bored expressions.

A few whisper quietly among themselves.

Their discomfort is obvious.

None of them want to be here.

And honestly...

I cannot blame them.

I am certain they are silently praying not to be my mate.

Trust me, ladies.

I am praying for the same thing.

Taking a slow breath, I begin looking at them one by one.

Nothing.

No spark.

No connection.

No overwhelming pull like the elders always describe.

Just silence.

My gaze quickly finishes scanning the line.

Still nothing.

A small sense of relief settles inside my chest.

My attention drifts back toward the crowd.

Most people now appear far more interested in the feast prepared nearby than in watching me stand here doing practically nothing.

My eyes find my mother again.

Her smile is still there, but I can see a hint of sadness hidden behind it.

She understands what has just happened.

I did not find my mate here.

She has always wanted me to find someone.

Someone who could belong to me.

Someone who could share my life.

Someone who could ease the loneliness she believes I carry.

But what she does not know is this-

Not finding my mate tonight is the only thing about this ritual that brings me any relief.

In fact...

I do not want to find my mate.

Not today.

Not tomorrow.

Not in this lifetime.

My gaze shifts toward my brother again.

He catches my eyes and gives me a playful wink, as if silently saying,

"It's not the end of the world."

I nod slightly in response.

But behind my wolf's calm exterior...

My human self wears a wide, satisfied smirk.

*

VIN'S POV

Walking along the road, I tilt my head slightly and look up at the skyline of downtown Frankfurt. The tall buildings stretch endlessly toward the sky, their glass surfaces reflecting the soft morning light. The weather today is beautiful-perfect, almost suspiciously so. Not sunny enough to burn the skin, not windy enough to ruffle coats and scatter papers through the streets. Just pleasantly mild, the kind of weather most people would enjoy while strolling with friends or loved ones.

For me, it is simply another ordinary day.

I walk this road every day.

It has become a silent routine I follow without fail, something that grounds me in a world that often feels too loud, too overwhelming. I have heard countless stories about wolves-how they love running freely through the forest, feeling the wind through their fur as they sprint beneath towering trees and across endless land. It is supposed to be in our nature.

Yet I prefer walking.

Slow, controlled, and deliberate.

Perhaps the only thing wolves and I truly have in common is our aloofness. Wolves run alone, and I walk alone. There is a strange comfort in that solitude. I enjoy blending into the busy streets, surrounded by strangers who do not know who I am and do not care to find out.

It allows me to disappear.

That is exactly what I want-to be unnoticed, to remain distant from everyone. My dark shades and long overcoat do a good job of hiding my identity, shielding me from curious glances and unnecessary conversations.

And thankfully, Nate-my wolf-has never complained.

Deep down, I know he must have wanted something different. Wolves crave freedom. They crave the thrill of shifting and running through forests with wild abandon, feeling alive in a way humans rarely understand. Nate must have wanted that.

But I never allow it.

Somehow, I have never liked shifting.

It is not because of the pain-although the first few times nearly tore me apart. Over the years, I have grown used to it. Pain, after all, becomes easier to endure when it is familiar.

No... the real reason lies deeper than that.

I think a part of me simply wants to run away from the reality of being a wolf.

My steps come to a halt when I notice my car parked at the corner of the road. The sleek black vehicle stands quietly beside the curb, and Ronny, my driver, waits patiently near it.

He always does.

It is part of our daily routine.

Every morning, we leave my manor together. Ronny drives me toward the office, but he never drops me directly in front of the building. Instead, he stops a few blocks away, allowing me to walk the rest of the distance.

No matter the weather.

In fact, extreme weather oddly brings me comfort. Rainstorms, cold winds, heavy snow-those days are the best. Fewer people are out on the streets, fewer eyes watching.

Fewer people to judge me.

Ronny nods respectfully when he sees me approaching and quickly opens the car door. I slide into the back seat without saying much.

Honestly, I would have preferred walking the remaining distance to the office.

But Valerio-my business partner and best friend-strongly opposes that arrangement.

According to him, people like us must maintain a certain image, a certain status. Company owners should arrive in style, not wandering through streets like ordinary pedestrians.

Sometimes I want to laugh at his ridiculous logic.

Yet, unfortunately, the world agrees with him.

With paparazzi constantly lurking around, searching for gossip or scandals involving wealthy entrepreneurs, I have little choice but to comply. Drawing attention is the last thing I want.

I am the Managing Director of Dream Scrapers Inc., a company founded by my two closest friends and me.

All three of us graduated from Oxford. Back then, we were just young men with ambition and ideas that felt too big for the world we lived in.

In the beginning, things were far from easy.

Mostly because of me.

People tend to have a peculiar reaction when they meet me. Some stare too long. Others avoid me completely. Their expressions often hold the same silent question-why?

Why does he exist?

Our small company began in Brussels, within the boundaries of our estate. At first, it was nothing more than a dream shared between friends. But slowly, project by project, we grew into something far greater.

Still, success never erased the way people looked at me.

I was never truly welcomed in our social circle.

Whenever I entered a room, the atmosphere subtly shifted. Conversations quieted. Eyes followed me cautiously, as if I were something unnatural, something that should not exist.

And honestly...

I cannot entirely blame them.

I do not know why my parents-more precisely, my mother-chose to bring me into this world when she knew how my future would unfold. Perhaps she was blinded by the overwhelming joy of becoming a mother. Perhaps she believed love would somehow protect me from everything else.

Sometimes I wish she had stopped for a moment and truly thought about what she was stepping into.

But despite everything, I cannot bring myself to hate her.

My mother is the best mother anyone could ask for.

She is kind, patient, and endlessly compassionate. Even when the world turned its back on me, she never did. She raised me alone, carrying the burden of both parents without ever complaining.

My father was never truly there for us.

Yet my mother always made sure I did not grow up hating him. She protected his image in my eyes, convincing me he was simply busy, simply distant.

What she forgot was that I would not remain her innocent little boy forever.

One day, I would grow up.

One day, I would see the truth for myself.

Sometimes, I wish I had remained that small boy-too naive to understand the cruelty of this world.

As time passed, I began to realize something important.

Perhaps none of this was truly anyone's fault.

Perhaps it was simply destiny.

Maybe God wrote my fate on a day when he was in a particularly sour mood because hatred is the emotion I have received most in my life.

At least two things are clear to me now.

People hate me.

And in return...

I hate the world.

"Sir, we are here."

Ronny's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I blink and realize the car has already reached the basement parking of our building.

He steps out quickly and opens the door for me.

I walk toward the elevator and press the button for my private floor. This lift is accessible only to three people-Valerio, Waldo, and me.

Waldo is our third partner. He manages our main branch in Brussels, our home country. Valerio and I handle the Frankfurt office, focusing on expanding the business internationally.

"Vincenzo."

The moment I step out of the elevator, I hear Valerio calling my name.

He stands near the reception area, clearly waiting for me. His hopeful expression immediately tells me something is coming.

I already feel the urge to roll my eyes.

"Speak," I say flatly.

He clears his throat awkwardly.

"Ahem... you have to go to Germany tomorrow."

I stare at him.

He nervously chews the inside of his cheek because he already knows what I am thinking.

First, I hate traveling.

Crowds irritate me.

Second, I dislike one-on-one meetings. I prefer working behind the scenes where strategies are created, not presented.

Most meetings are handled by Valerio and Waldo. They serve as CEOs of their respective branches, while I focus on the analytical side of the business.

But every position comes with responsibilities.

Being the Managing Director means that sometimes, when they cannot attend important meetings, I must step in.

They always try their best to avoid putting me in that position.

Still, there are moments when they have no other choice.

I close my eyes and release a slow breath through my nose.

"Send me the details."

Before he can say anything else, I walk toward my cabin.

Behind me, I hear Valerio whispering dramatic words of gratitude to God, which only makes me roll my eyes again.

Inside my office, Isa Carlo-my assistant-enters quietly behind me.

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the room, and a hot espresso sits neatly on my desk.

I am grateful to have Isa around.

She is disciplined, efficient, and incredibly hardworking. She is currently pursuing her MBA while working here full-time. Despite attending several classes each week, she manages both responsibilities flawlessly.

Twice a week she leaves early for her lectures, but she always finishes her work beforehand.

I admire that level of dedication.

She is equally admirable on a personal level.

Isa is not overly talkative and always maintains professional boundaries. Her clothing style reflects the same personality-modest, elegant, and appropriate.

We share a respectful working relationship.

She respects my privacy, and I respect hers.

Most of what I know about her comes from Valerio's endless chatter. Sometimes I suspect he has feelings for her.

Though strangely, he behaves the exact opposite.

He often teases her or criticizes her unnecessarily. Once, I had to scold him, reminding him that she works directly under me and he has no right to disrespect her.

He refused to speak to me for the entire day afterward.

Later, however, I found him sitting quietly in my office, sulking like a child.

Truthfully, the two of us cannot stay angry at each other for long.

"Sir, this is the file for the Berlin project," Isa says, handing it over.

She raises an eyebrow as if she already knows I have agreed.

"I knew you would say yes," she adds. "Mr. Valerio and Mr. Waldo both have prior commitments. That leaves only you."

She shrugs lightly.

"You may leave, Miss Carlo," I say as I open the file.

"Thank you, sir. And one more thing-I have informed Angelica's aunt about your trip. She will prepare your luggage since you are leaving tonight."

I nod.

Angelica Aunty used to work at my grandfather's house, but she was always close to my mother. When my mother left after her marriage, Angelica chose to go with her.

She never wanted my mother to be alone.

Now my mother has sent her here so that I will not feel alone either.

But people often forget something important.

Loneliness does not come from empty houses.

It lives deep inside the heart.

And no one can truly remove it.

After finishing my work and reviewing the documents, I glance at the clock.

Two o'clock already.

Time passes strangely fast inside this office.

I walk toward the large glass window overlooking the city. From this height, the people below look like tiny ants moving through endless streets.

My thoughts drift toward the upcoming trip.

For some reason...

I feel uneasy.

I press a hand against my chest.

My heartbeat feels irregular, slightly faster than usual. A strange restlessness spreads through my body like an invisible warning.

It is not work.

Work has never unsettled me like this.

Inside my mind, Nate is restless too.

My wolf paces back and forth without direction, as if sensing something I cannot yet understand.

I do not know why...

But my instincts-my sixth sense-are screaming at me.

Something is about to happen.

Something important.

Something that will change everything.

But the question remains...

What?

**

VIN'S POV

By the time I reached the hotel, the night had already settled heavily over the city. The streets outside were glowing under rows of streetlights, and the glass walls of the tall buildings reflected the quiet elegance of the late evening.

My driver stopped at the entrance, and the moment I stepped out, the doorman greeted me politely and opened the large glass doors.

The lobby was extravagant-far more than I had expected.

Marble floors reflected the golden chandelier light above, and the air smelled faintly of expensive perfume mixed with fresh flowers placed carefully on every table. Soft piano music floated through the air, creating an atmosphere of calm luxury.

I sighed internally.

Valerio.

Only he would think it necessary to book a place like this.

I checked in at the reception and took the key card from the receptionist before heading toward the elevator. Within minutes I reached my floor and walked down the long hallway until I found my room.

The executive suite.

Sliding the card into the lock, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The moment I entered, I paused and slowly looked around.

The room was huge.

A spacious living area opened in front of me, decorated with modern furniture, a large glass window overlooking the city, and a bedroom further inside separated by elegant sliding doors. Everything in the room screamed luxury-from the plush carpet beneath my shoes to the soft ambient lighting along the walls.

I shook my head in disbelief.

"Seriously, Valerio?" I muttered under my breath.

Why spend this much money on a hotel room when a normal one would have been perfectly fine?

I was never someone who cared about luxury.

A bed was a bed.

A room was a room.

But Valerio always insisted on maintaining "standards."

Huffing quietly, I placed my phone on the side table and loosened the collar of my shirt.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

When I opened the door, the bellboy stood outside with my luggage. I stepped aside to let him in, and he placed the bags neatly near the wardrobe before giving me a polite smile.

"Anything else you need, sir?"

"No," I replied, handing him a generous tip.

He thanked me and left.

Once the door closed again, silence filled the room.

For a moment, I simply stood there, staring at nothing.

The exhaustion from the flight slowly began creeping into my body.

Since it was already late, I decided not to waste time. I walked straight to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the warm water wash away the fatigue of the journey.

The hot water relaxed my stiff muscles, and for a few minutes, I simply stood under the stream, letting my thoughts drift aimlessly.

When I stepped out of the shower, I changed into comfortable clothes and grabbed my laptop from my bag.

Even though I was tired, work always came first.

Sitting on the couch, I opened my emails and began checking them one by one. Several messages from different branches had arrived during the flight, along with updates from the Frankfurt office.

My meeting was scheduled for seven in the morning.

Which meant I needed proper rest.

After replying to the important emails and reviewing a few documents, I finally shut the laptop.

My eyes drifted toward the large bed in the bedroom.

Soft.

Comfortable.

Inviting.

It felt like the bed was practically calling my name.

Since I had already eaten dinner during the flight, I did not need to order anything. So without wasting another moment, I turned off the lights and slid beneath the covers.

Within minutes, sleep claimed me.

________________________________________

The next morning arrived far too quickly.

I woke up to the faint sunlight slipping through the curtains.

After getting ready and dressing for the meeting, I stood in front of the mirror, buttoning my vest coat while adjusting the collar.

Just then, my phone rang.

A small smile formed on my lips the moment I saw the caller ID.

Mama.

I picked up immediately.

"Hey, Mama."

"Hello to you too, Vincenzo. How are you, my son?" she said warmly.

Hearing her voice after three days felt... comforting.

"I called you yesterday," I complained lightly. "You didn't pick up."

"I know," she replied with a cheerful laugh. "I was busy with my friends. You know we came to Via Brabançonne, and Vincenzo, it is so beautiful here. I wish you were here with me."

I could practically imagine the small pout on her lips.

My mother was forty-five years old.

But sometimes she sounded like an excited teenager discovering the world for the first time.

She had conceived me when she was only eighteen.

And somehow...

I have always pitied her.

Her youth had been stolen from her because of a single night-one incident that changed the lives of several people forever.

And I was the result of that night.

She always says I am the best thing that ever happened to her.

But deep down...

I know that is not true.

Because of that pregnancy and the sudden marriage that followed-a marriage that existed only in name-she never completed her studies.

My maternal grandfather knew the truth.

He knew my father never accepted the relationship.

So, before he passed away, he ensured my mother would never depend on anyone. He gifted her a beautiful house where I grew up and left her his school to manage.

That school became her entire life.

She buried herself in work there.

And raised me alone.

But even after all these years...

She still blames herself.

I have seen her cry when she thought no one was watching.

She believes she destroyed her sister's life.

That night, my uncle had given juice to both my parents-juice laced with drugs.

Under the influence, they committed a mistake that none of them could undo.

My mother still believes she is the homewrecker of her own sister.

And in a twisted way... she is not entirely wrong.

Because when I was born, my father was forced to divorce my aunt-my mother's elder sister-and marry my mother.

But the marriage meant nothing.

My father left the country soon after.

Like a coward.

Leaving behind a pregnant wife and a broken family.

My mother fought every battle alone.

And I grew up watching her struggle.

She shaped me into the man I am today.

But she could never teach me how to remove the darkness that kept growing inside my heart.

Outwardly, I learned how to smile.

How to act normal.

But inside...

My wounds never healed.

They simply spread.

Slowly.

Quietly.

Like poison.

That is why I stay away from people.

Relationships only bring pain.

The only people I allow close to me are my mother, Valerio, and Waldo.

And... Lorenzo.

My elder brother.

Technically, he is not my real brother.

But in every way that matters, he is.

We were never very close while growing up, but we never hated each other either.

Everything changed when the truth came out about my uncle.

When Lorenzo discovered who had truly ruined our family.

After that day, he began treating me differently.

Warmer.

Kinder.

He openly declared his love for me and never missed a chance to show his affection.

Sometimes it feels strange.

But also... comforting.

He is one of the few people who has ever made me feel that my existence is not a mistake.

Even though I rarely return his calls, he still checks on me from time to time.

I know he is trying to fix the broken bond between us.

But I do not know if I am capable of that.

"Vincenzo, you should get married," my mother suddenly said.

There it was.

The same topic again.

"I will always need you, Mom," I murmured softly.

It hurt whenever she said I did not need her anymore.

Because the truth was the opposite.

She was the only person I wanted around me.

But she sighed.

"You need a woman in your life now, my son."

Guilt twisted inside me.

Once, during an argument, I told her I had rejected my mate.

It broke her heart.

But it also stopped her from asking questions.

Because the truth is simple.

If I ever find my mate...

I will reject her.

Without hesitation.

"Mom, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes," I said gently. "I will call you later. Love you."

Before she could continue the conversation, I ended the call.

Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I left the room.

________________________________________

The meeting went surprisingly well.

The client seemed pleased with the proposal, and by the end of the discussion, he invited me for drinks that evening.

Which I absolutely hated.

Social gatherings.

Crowds.

Pointless conversations.

But he was an important client.

So, I agreed.

Back in my room later, I packed my bags since I planned to leave right after the drinks.

When I reached the hotel bar, however, they informed me that the group had moved to the club owned by the hotel.

Great.

Clubs.

Exactly what I needed.

The moment I stepped inside, loud music slammed into my ears, and flashing lights illuminated the crowded dance floor.

And then-

A scent hit my nostrils.

Sharp.

Sweet.

Overpowering.

Nate instantly stirred inside me.

Restless.

Uneasy.

I frowned slightly and looked around, trying to locate the source.

But the club was too crowded.

People were everywhere.

Dancing.

Laughing.

Drinking.

The atmosphere was suffocating.

Crowds have always irritated me.

My calm control can easily snap under too many people.

And Nate was not helping either.

Still, I somehow managed to keep my composure while entertaining the client.

Honestly, I almost wanted to reward myself for that level of patience.

While sipping my drink, my eyes scanned the room.

Couples danced together under the neon lights.

They looked happy.

Too happy.

I often wondered what they talked about.

What made them smile like that.

Because most of it was probably fake.

Yet... something unexpected happened.

Amid all the chaos...

A voice reached my ears.

Soft.

Calm.

Soothing.

Nate instantly focused on it.

And strangely...

So, did I.

Something about that voice pulled at me.

Every instinct inside me wanted to find its owner.

But I could not leave the client.

Meanwhile, the mysterious scent kept hitting my senses like a missile.

My hands trembled slightly.

Sweat formed on my palms.

The only thing keeping me calm was the alcohol.

So, I had two more drinks.

Throughout the night, I felt something strange.

Someone was watching me.

I could feel it.

A constant gaze.

Every time I turned to look-

Nothing.

No one suspicious.

Yet the feeling never disappeared.

Strangely, for the first time in a crowded place...

I was not completely irritated.

Something was calming me.

Maybe the alcohol.

Maybe that voice.

Maybe... something else.

Finally, I stood up and said goodbye to the client.

Nate protested instantly.

For the first time, he did not want to leave.

But I was done.

My mind had already checked out hours ago.

So, I ignored him.

I walked out of the club.

But the moment I stepped outside...

An unexpected emptiness spread through my chest.

Like something important had just slipped away.

I frowned slightly.

"What is this feeling...?"

*