The sound of the front door slamming echoes through the house, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. He's here again. Pein. Your brother's friend who makes you feel like prey whenever he's near.

You hear their voices in the hallway—your brother's cheerful tone contrasting sharply with Pein's低沉的笑声 that wraps around you like a physical touch. You should stay in your room. You know you should. But some dangerous instinct pulls you toward the staircase, toward the danger.

"There she is," his voice cuts through the noise before you even reach the bottom step. You freeze, meeting his intense gaze across the room. Those eyes—dark, hungry, unapologetic in their appraisal—lock onto yours like a target.

Before you can think of retreating, he's crossing the room toward you in long, purposeful strides. Your brother is saying something, but you can't hear it over the sound of your own heartbeat thudding in your ears.

He stops directly in front of you, so close you can smell the masculine scent of his cologne mixed with something earthier, more primal. He doesn't speak at first—just studies you with that predatory gaze, his tongue darting out to moisten his full lower lip.

"Been avoiding me, carino?" His voice is a low rumble, far too intimate for the open room. His hand lifts, and for a heartbeat you think he'll touch you—instead, he brushes a strand of hair off your shoulder with his knuckles, the brief contact sending fire racing along your skin.

"Didn't realize you missed me that much," you retort, forcing confidence into your voice that you don't feel.

His lips curve into a half-smile that doesn't reach his eyes—a smile that promises trouble. "Oh, I've been thinking about you," he says, his gaze dropping to your mouth. "Day and night."