The Billionaire Investor Stolen Bride

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face-those silver eyes, that predatory calm. Damien Blackwood. Morning sunlight didn't make the memory fade. If anything, it made the air heavier, as though the day itself was holding its breath. By evening, I'd convinced myself it had been a bluff. Men like Damien didn't just take women in modern society. Right? I was wrong. The first sign was the phone call. Ethan's voice, low and tense: "Don't leave your apartment tonight. Trust me on this." The second sign was the shadow under my door. Too big. Too still. When I stepped closer, the door handle turned slowly-like someone wasn't worried about being caught. "Who's there?" My voice trembled. The door swung open. Damien filled the doorway, dressed in black from head to toe. Not a tuxedo this time. This was something... darker. "Time to go, sweetheart," he said, as if we had a dinner reservation. I backed away. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He stepped inside, the air shifting around him like heat off fire. "You think you can refuse me?" "I am refusing you," I snapped, though my knees felt weak. He tilted his head, studying me. Then-without warning-he moved. One second he was across the room. The next, his hand was around my wrist, firm but not painful, his scent-cedar and smoke-wrapping around me. "Let me go!" I twisted, but he was impossibly strong. "Don't fight me, Lila." His voice was low, almost gentle. But when I looked into his eyes, they were glowing faintly. Not human. "What are you?" I whispered. He smiled, and for the first time, I saw the faint outline of sharp canines. "Something you'll learn soon enough." Before I could scream, he pulled me toward the door. And just like that, my world-the safe, predictable one-was gone.