Lily Anderson genuinely thought the man had lost it.

The whole villa was huge and flashy, the kind of place that usually screamed luxury.

But right now, with not a single light on, the place sat in the dark like it was being swallowed whole by the night.

Hidden in that suffocating black, everything felt even more terrifying.

Especially now.

The entire villa was empty—just the two of them inside.

The girl slid her hand along the wall, barely daring to breathe, then slipped soundlessly into a room.

Her movements were so light they didn’t make the slightest noise.

Her white chiffon dress outlined her slim, delicate figure. A gust of wind drifted in through the window, lifting the curtains, and the cold moonlight scattered across the floor—landing right on her panicked, beautiful face.

Her fox‑like eyes shimmered with fear; she looked like a startled fawn lost in a foggy forest, the panic written all over her.

Sweat dampened her palms. Her chest rose and fell way too fast.

Curling up in the corner, she didn’t dare move, her clear eyes locked on the door as if she could hear every sound from the hallway.

He’s not chasing me… right?

Hands trembling, she fumbled out her phone and dialed Snow Shepherd.

Thank god—Snow picked up.

“Hello? Lily? Where are you?”

Snow’s voice came through.

Lily finally let out a shaky breath.

She opened her mouth to answer—

But in the next second, the door was kicked open.

A tall male silhouette stood there, wrapped in darkness. Slowly, his sharp, flawless features came into view.

And in that split moment, Lily felt her heart just… stop.

A soft laugh drifted from the other end of the line, cool and teasing at the same time.

“You little troublemaker… found you.”

“…”

With a sharp crack, the phone slipped from Lily Anderson’s hand and hit the floor.

Zachary Preston, still in his suit, walked into the room with slow, deliberate steps.

A second later, he gently closed the door behind him.

Just one look at him—those almost unreal, breathtaking features—was enough to make anyone forget how to breathe. But right now, the stormy, unreadable emotion in his eyes made Lily’s stomach twist in fear.

She swallowed hard and shuffled back, her voice trembling,

“Zachary, we… I… I don’t think I ever did anything to upset you, right?”

Something that looked like amusement flickered in his eyes. He kept walking toward her, unhurried, every step dripping with that lazy arrogance unique to him.

He looked like an angel who’d fallen straight into the dirt—too beautiful, but carrying danger with every breath.

Each step he took echoed in the quiet room, thudding straight into Lily’s chest, the pressure tightening around her like invisible chains.

She kept backing up until the cold wall pressed against her spine.

Finally, he stopped right in front of her.

Lily sat on the floor, staring up at him. Her pretty eyes were full of panic, confusion, and nowhere to run.

His gaze was dark—too dark—and then he bent down, slowly, that devastating face softening into a faint smile.

“Lily, you’re still adorable. It’s been five years. Didn’t you miss your Brother Zachary? Hmm?”

His voice was low and unrealistically magnetic, and the little lilt he added at the end made her heart jump in all the wrong ways.

She was on the verge of tears, her voice wobbling with fear,

“Zachary, don’t… don’t do this. You’re scaring me…”

He’d been drinking.

The second he leaned closer, the heavy scent of alcohol hit her, sharp and dizzying.

A pale wrist suddenly appeared in her line of sight—long, distinct bones, elegant fingers—too close, too intimate.

The man bent down slightly, like some polished gentleman, but the way he stared at the girl was anything but safe—his eyes were obsessed, almost like he wanted to swallow her whole.

The girl’s clear, watery eyes met his, and the fear in her only spiked.

She shot up, ready to bolt.

But he narrowed his eyes, danger rolling off him in waves, and without even trying, he snagged her right back into his arms.

His crisp, clean scent hit her all at once.

She let out a startled cry.

In that dizzy, spinning second, she was already scooped up—lifted straight into a princess carry, locked tightly against his chest.

“Zachary Preston!”

Holding her, he turned toward the door. Even in such a casual, loose posture, he looked untouchable, almost like something carved out of ice and divinity—except for the wildness burning behind his eyes.

His voice came out low and husky, too pleasant and too dangerous. “Lily, you used to trail behind me calling ‘Brother Zachary’ all the time. Five years apart, and now you don’t even want to call me that?”

“…”

Ugh… she never expected the boy she knew back then to grow into this devilish man who looked refined on the surface but screamed trouble underneath.

The lights snapped on, harsh and bright enough to make her squint.

She curled up instinctively like a frightened little bunny, arms pale and slender as they clung around his neck.

Her white gauzy dress shimmered against her snow‑fair skin, making her look like some lost fairy who’d accidentally wandered into the human world—so beautiful it didn’t feel real.

By the time her eyes adjusted and she dared to look again, he had already carried her into the master bedroom.

And then, just like that, he tossed her onto the snow‑white bed.

The soft mattress caught her.

She propped herself up with her hands, sitting slightly upright, staring at the dangerously charming man standing by the bed.

The girl froze under the man’s sharp, predatory stare, her head tilted back like a fragile white swan caught in a spotlight. Her posture was perfect, almost too perfect, and those usually bright, foxy eyes of hers were now brimming with tears.

“Zachary Preston, don’t… don’t scare me…”

He’d been drinking, and right now he looked like the definition of a polished menace — the kind who smiled like a gentleman but moved like trouble.

So was he sober enough to know what he was doing? Or was this all because he was drunk and out of control?

His tall, cold frame blocked the ceiling light as he stood by the window. In the dim glow, his face looked unfairly beautiful, the kind that could pull someone in even while scaring them half to death.

Head lowered, eyes half-lidded, he stared at the girl on the bed while his long fingers slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, the corner of his lips lifting.

“Brother Zachary has liked Lily for a long time. How about… Lily stays with Brother Zachary, hm?”

“No!” He was terrifying!

Especially that smile at the corner of his mouth—

like some grim reaper signing off on her fate.

She flipped over, trying to bolt off the bed.

But the next second, his body dropped down suddenly.

He pinned her in place.

“Mmph… Zachary, stop—” She sucked in a sharp breath. Tears clung stubbornly to her lashes, making her already stunning eyes look even more heartbreakingly beautiful.

Her back was pressed tightly against him, her wrists caught in his grip. His hold felt like iron clamps, squeezing so hard it stung.

He leaned down, knees planted on either side of her like a hunter trapping his prey, elegance and danger blending together in a way that made her heart pound painfully.

His hand slid around her waist, and he murmured by her ear, voice low and coaxing, “Lily, be good.”

He dipped his head, and his cool lips brushed the side of her ear, his scorching breath spilling out against her skin.

Then he flipped her over, forcing her to face him.

His features were stunning, distant, almost unreal, and the moment she met his eyes—

the sheer possessiveness in them was overwhelming.

It terrified her.