Chapter 3 Handsome Stranger

• MALIA
• I spun around, breath catching, ready to scream or run or fight, and found myself face to face with a handsome stranger.
• He was tall. Expressionless in a way that made my skin crawl.
• But he didn’t look like a guard, but like a fucking model! God, he definitely didn’t look like he belonged here either—not with that face or body and that effortless confidence that radiated off of him. He looked in his mid-twenties, maybe. And he was freaking hot. Not cute-boy-in-math-class hot. No. He was Spicy Romance kind of hot.
• He stood with his arms folded, leaning lazily against the wall like he had all the time in the world. A navy-blue vest hugged a crisp white dress shirt, its sleeves rolled to the elbows of forearms covered in black ink that twisted like smoke across his golden skin. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, and his hair was slicked back like he’d just walked out of a boardroom—or a crime scene.
• But it was his eyes that got me. They stared me down, sharp, cold, and piercing.
• I swallowed hard. Not out of fear—this was something else. Something hot and reckless that cracked down my spine like thunder. Something I had never felt before, but it made me feel too warm in my jacket.
• He tilted his head to the side slightly, that mouth curling in the faintest smirk. “See something you like?”
• His voice was low and smoky. Smooth, but with an edge that cut straight through my breath.
• “What? …No!” I said it too fast. Too loud. Even though I could imagine the stupid look I probably had on my face a minute ago. I was nearly drooling as I looked at the guy.
• One brow arched slowly. “Could’ve fooled me. You were staring a little.”
• I crossed my arms. “You startled me. It’s not polite to sneak up on people.”
• “I didn’t sneak.” He stepped forward. Casual and confident. “You were just too focused on that building to notice.”
• I opened my mouth, searching for a snarky comeback—but nothing came out.
• He chuckled—low, smug, clearly enjoying teasing me.
• And I hated that I didn’t hate it. That instead of rolling my eyes or snapping back, I felt warm all over, tingly and hot. There was something about him. It wasn’t the cocky, grinning type of energy; it was quieter, sharper. He had that perfect resting bitch face—stone still, unreadable, like every emotion had been trained out of him. If he even had any.
• But he’d smirked at me. Just barely. And now he was chuckling. Somehow, that felt like a win, even if I hadn’t done anything to earn it. Unless being utterly embarrassing counted.
• “So…” he continued, voice lighter now, almost teasing. “What’s got you so interested in that place, huh?”
• “That’s none of your business,” I snapped, straightening up, trying to make myself seem taller.
• “Fair,” he said with a slow nod before leaning in. He was to freaking close. His face hovered inches from mine, and I could feel his breath ghost across my skin. “Just not used to seeing someone like you down here.”
• I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
• He tilted his head again, gaze trailing down me—not in a gross way, but in a calculating one as if he were reading a file, not a person. That smirk returned, curling his lip just enough to make me want to smack it off his face—or stare at it longer.
• “You look too … innocent,” he said.
• It didn’t sound like a compliment.
• I wasn’t sure what it was, but it made my jaw clench.
• I didn’t want to look like I belonged here, but I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle it, either.
• Before I could snap back, movement caught my eye.
• A scruffy, three-colored cat slinked out from under a dumpster, and without thinking, I bent down and scooped it up.
• “Patch!” I gasped dramatically, clutching the confused animal to my chest. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” I turned to him with my best innocent-girl smile. “My cat ran away, and I was just out looking for her.”
• He glanced from me to the scruffy feline, then back again.
• “Patch, huh?”
• “Yes,” I said, dragging the word out with exaggerated patience. “Because she has patches of different colors. Duh.”
• Just as I was about to retreat behind the awkwardness, he did something completely unexpected.
• He smiled, not smirked—a beaming smile, like that of an excited kid.
• Just… amusement. Like I was a puzzle he hadn’t expected to enjoy solving. And my heart forgot how to beat properly when he did.
• “Well,” I said briskly, brushing past him with the squirming cat still in my arms. “I’ve got what I came for. If you’ll excuse me.”
• But before I could pass, his hand closed around my arm—firm, not rough, but strong enough to stop me cold.
• I froze.
• His voice brushed against my ear like a whisper soaked in gasoline.
• “This time I’ll let you off easy, mia principessa,” he said softly, the words laced with something razor-sharp beneath the velvet. “Next time… don’t risk lying to me.”
• My stomach flipped, a cold wave rolling through my chest. It was a warning, yes—a threat, unmistakably—but buried inside it, there was something else—a promise I would see him again.
• I jerked my arm free instinctively and shoved him. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make clear he shouldn’t touch me. My boots struck the pavement with sharp finality as I stormed away, heart hammering against my ribs, the cat flailing awkwardly in my arms.
• I didn’t look back until I rounded the next corner and pressed my spine against the wall, hoping its weight might ground me.
• Carefully, I peeked out, but he was already gone.
• No fading footsteps or shifting shadow. Just an empty street stretching ahead like he’d never been there at all.
• I looked down at the cat. “Sorry,” I murmured, setting it gently on the ground.
• It didn’t wait. With its tail flicking high, it vanished into a trash-stained alley.
• I stayed there, spine still pressed to the wall, legs frozen in place—like leaving that spot meant facing something I wasn’t ready for, because I could still feel his hand on my arm, feel the heat of his breath against my cheek, still hear the way he said mia principessa. What a strange thing to call someone you just met.
• Worst of all… I felt like I’d seen him before, or a version of him.
• My heart thudded, too loud in my chest. I didn’t know who he was, but I had the sickest feeling in my gut that he knew exactly who I was.
• I shook my head and slapped my cheeks once, trying to snap myself out of it—I needed to focus on the task at hand. I still had to find my father… and figure out what he wasn’t telling me.
• But one thought kept circling like a vulture.
• I want to see him again.