The morning mist still hung thinly over the Thames as Lila stepped out of the station. London always looked gray in the morning, but today… the color felt even darker, like something was lurking beneath it.
He pulled his black coat tightly around his waist and walked briskly toward the offices of The Clarion Gazette, the independent newspaper where he worked as a rookie journalist. His steps were hurried, but his thoughts were not.
Ever since that night at the party… Lila's mind seemed stuck in one place: the figure of a man in a black suit with a dark gaze that pierced her skin like a dagger.
Damian Valtieri.
For some reason, his name felt like it was thirsty on his tongue every time he said it in his heart.
Lila stopped at a zebra crossing. The sound of a car horn behind her startled her. She quickly pulled over. "Focus, Lila…" she muttered.
But it's hard to focus when someone like Damian just pops into your life, touches your chin like he has every right to, and then disappears before you can breathe.
And the most disturbing thing…
He didn't look like someone Lila could forget.
When Lila entered the newsroom, the sounds of printers, phones ringing, and people shouting for the latest news greeted her. The air smelled of coffee and a hint of cigarette smoke that somehow always drifted in from the sixth-floor window.
Clara Jayes, her best friend and senior, waved at her from a corner table. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a high bun, and she was already holding two cups of lattes.
"You look like hell," Clara said without hesitation.
“Thanks. Exactly what I needed to hear this morning,” balas Lila setengah malas.
Clara menyerahkan kopi. “So? What happened last night? You disappeared after dragging me to that awful charity party.”
Lila opened her laptop, trying to sound casual. “I just… met someone.”
Clara immediately stopped typing. “Someone? Someone?” Her gaze narrowed. “Is he hot?”
Lila sighed. “Clara...”
“Tall?”
“…yes.”
“Dark aura? Broody? Looks like he kills people for breakfast?”
Lila glared. “Clara!”
Clara terkekeh. “Oh my God, I’m right.”
He leaned back in his chair, feigning drama. “Tell me everything.”
Lila tried to explain: the fancy party, the brief encounter, how Damian had touched her in a way she couldn't explain. It felt too intense for a stranger. Too dark for logic.
Clara listened, waving her hand. “Lila, you met him for one minute. Maybe he’s just charismatic.”
“Maybe…” But Lila knew it wasn’t just charisma. Damian’s gaze seemed to know her. His smile wasn’t friendly, more like… a threat.
Before he could explain further, the door to the editorial office opened with a bang.
Their editor, Mr. Holton, appeared holding several files. His old eyes swept the room and landed on Lila.
“Bennett. My office. Now.”
Clara looked at Lila with raised eyebrows. "You're in trouble again?"
“I haven't even done anything yet,” Lila muttered as she stood up.
Inside Holton's office, stacks of old newspapers and black-and-white portraits of legendary journalists cover the walls.
Holton sat down without asking. “I’m giving you a story.”
Lila raised her chin. "A story?"
“A big one.” He tossed a thin folder onto Lila’s desk. “There’s been a string of disappearances of public figures in the last three months. Politicians, bankers, businessmen. Sources say the police are keeping quiet.”
Lila's heart beat a little faster. "Why me?"
Holton glared at him. “Because you’re the only one here stubborn enough to dive where you shouldn’t.”
Lila swallowed. “What do you want from me?”
“Find a pattern. Find the culprit. Or at least.”
Holton leaned in, his voice dropping.
“...find out why everyone is so desperate to close this case.”
A strange sensation crept up Lila's spine.
There was something about the way Holton said it. It was like he knew something he couldn't explain.
Lila nodded. "Okay. I'll take it."
“Good,” Holton said. “And Lila...”
He looked at her with an expression he rarely showed: worry.
"Be careful."
That afternoon, Lila sat in the office's small library, examining the files Holton had given her. Four names were missing. All wealthy. All connected to major European corporations. All vanished without a trace.
He wrote down the points.
No record of kidnapping. No ransom demand. No witnesses.
It was as if they… evaporated from the world.
“Hm…” Lila tapped the table with her pencil. “What connects you two?”
The answer didn't come. But her thoughts returned to Damian, for some reason.
Ia menggeleng. “No. He has nothing to do with this.”
Just as she closed her laptop, the library phone rang. Lila answered. “Clarion Gazette Library, Lila speaking.”
The voice on the other end of the phone was low. It was dark.
And he recognized it.
“Miss Bennett.”
Lila's heart stopped for a second.
That voice… belonged to Damian.
“How did you get...”
“You left something behind last night.”
Lila swallowed. “I don’t...”
“I want to return it.”
There was a moment of silence, then he added, quietly but menacingly,
“Get out of the building. Now.”
The phone was disconnected.
Lila froze.
Clara would definitely tell him not to go. Holton would definitely forbid it.
But there was something about Damian's voice. Something captivating.
Drag it.
Tie it up.
He took his coat and walked out without thinking about the worst.
The cold air hit her face as she exited the building. The London streets were bustling, but they felt eerily quiet. Lila looked around, searching for a sign.
Then he saw it.
Damian stood across the street, leaning against a black car that looked too expensive to be parked in that area. His dark suit was neatly trimmed, his hair slightly messy in the wind.
And that look…
The gaze that had been bothering his mind since last night.
He stepped closer. “How do you know where I work?”
Damian didn't answer. He just looked at Lila up and down as if assessing whether she was dangerous or not.
“You look surprised to see me,” he said finally. His voice remained even. But there was something behind it. Something holding back. Something dark.
“I didn't leave anything behind,” Lila said defensively.
Damian took a step closer.
Lila stepped back reflexively.
Damian raised an eyebrow, as if pleased with the reaction.
“No. You didn't leave anything behind,” he said.
“But I need a reason to meet you.”
Lila was stunned. "Why?"
Damian's gaze changed… intense, sharp, as if he wanted to say something but was holding it back.
For obvious reasons.
Because he is dangerous.
“I thought I was clear enough at the party,” he said quietly. “I don’t like repeating myself.”
Lila clutched her bag. “What do you want from me?”
Damian lowered his head slightly, his face only inches from Lila's.
“I want to make sure you know what you're getting into.”
“What does that mean?”
A small smile appeared on her lips. Not a sweet smile, but… deadly.
“You are investigating something you shouldn't be touching.”
Lila's blood froze. "How do you know that?"
“There are many things I know, Lila Bennett.”
Damian's voice was as low as a whisper.
“Including the fact that the four people you were researching… didn't disappear.”
Lila frowned. "Then where did they go?"
Damian's eyes were as dark as the night sea.
"They were killed," he said finally.
“And the person who did it… is looking at you.”
Lila was silent, between fear and disbelief.
Damian stepped closer. “I won’t let you get involved. You better stop now before something happens.”
"No."
Lila surprised herself. “I’m a journalist. I didn’t run away just because someone told me to be afraid.”
Damian closed his eyes for a second as if trying to hold something back.
When he opened his eyes, his gaze was darker than before.
“You don't understand, Lila.”
Her voice was small, almost faint.
“I tried to protect you.”
"Of whom?"
Damian stared at him for a long time.
A long time ago.
Then he answered in a barely audible voice.
“From me.”
And that was the first time Lila understood that Damian wasn't just a dangerous person. He was the danger itself.