Chapter 2 The Game Starts

"You're shaking."

Noa stared at the empty doorway like it might bite him.

His hands weren't shaking. His whole damn body was.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered.

The bastard had gotten inside.

No lock picked. No sound. No warning.

Just there. On his couch. Like he belonged.

Noa's gut twisted.

And not all of it was fear.

"I will have you," Alessio had said. The words still crawled under Noa's skin like a second pulse. Slow. Certain.

Noa scrubbed a hand hard over his face, like he could wipe the memory away.

"Like hell you will."

But the words rang hollow in the quiet apartment.

The next morning was worse.

He barely slept. Tossed and turned until dawn, the sheets tangled, skin too hot, too cold.

And when he did sleep, silver eyes haunted him. Cold fingers traced paths down his skin in the dark of his dreams.

He woke up with a strangled sound in his throat hard, sweating, furious with himself.

"Fuck."

Noa dragged himself out of bed. Yanked on jeans, a hoodie. Something casual, forgettable. Like maybe he could hide in plain sight today.

Coffee first. Maybe if he poured enough caffeine down his throat, the images would stop chasing him.

He barely made it to the corner shop. Shadows under his eyes. Jaw tight.

Ordered black. No sugar.

"Rough night?" the barista asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You could say that."

He didn't elaborate. Couldn't. There weren't words for that kind of night.

He took the coffee. Took a deep breath.

Then burned his tongue on purpose.

Pain was easier than the heat still curled low in his gut. Easier to handle.

When he left, the street was quiet.

Too quiet.

Noa's skin prickled. Instinct screaming.

Someone was watching him.

He stopped.

Looked sharply over his shoulder.

Just in time to catch a glint of black glass.

A car. Parked across the street. Windows tinted darker than legal. Engine idling, a faint growl under the soft hum of the morning.

Noa froze mid-step.

The passenger window rolled down. Smooth. Silent.

And there he was.

Alessio.

Same gray eyes. Same slow, dangerous smile like a tiger who had found its prey wandering just a little too close.

"Get in."

Noa's heart jumped to his throat. His fight-or-flight instincts kicked hard. His feet wanted to bolt.

But he forced himself to stay rooted.

Running wouldn't help. He knew that. Not with someone like Alessio.

"Not happening."

"I said get in."

The voice was velvet over steel. Not raised. No threat needed. It was the kind of command you obeyed without thinking.

Noa swallowed.

If he ran would they chase him? How fast would they catch him?

If he got in how much worse could it get?

His gut twisted. Every instinct told him don't do this.

But another voice whispered five minutes. You can survive five minutes. Better than the alternative.

He took a breath.

"Five minutes," he said, jaw tight. "No more."

Alessio inclined his head slightly. "Of course."

Liar.

The leather seat was cold against his back. The door thunked shut with a quiet finality that made the hairs on Noa's neck stand up.

The car smelled like cigarette smoke and that same expensive cologne that had been on Alessio's skin last night. Rich. Sharp. A little bitter.

Noa swallowed against the knot in his throat.

Alessio didn't speak at first. Just watched him.

Noa could feel the weight of that gaze dragging over him like silk and knives.

He tried not to squirm.

Failed.

"You shouldn't provoke me," Alessio said finally, voice low.

"You shouldn't break into my home," Noa shot back before he could stop himself.

A faint smile tugged at Alessio's mouth fond amusement, like Noa was an entertaining pet biting the hand that fed it.

"I wanted to see how far you'd go."

"You got your answer. Now leave me the fuck alone."

Alessio leaned closer, body language shifting, predatory.

"No."

Noa's pulse jumped, stupid and fast.

"Why?" The word came out a little breathless.

"Because," Alessio murmured, "you're the first person who's looked me in the eye and told me no."

His fingers moved light, deliberate. They ghosted over Noa's wrist, tracing the fast thrum of his pulse.

"It's intoxicating."

Noa yanked his hand away like it burned.

"You're insane."

"Maybe." Alessio smiled, eyes gleaming. "But you're still here."

And damn it he was.

Still here. Still trapped in this seat, heart racing, body thrumming with adrenaline and something far, far more dangerous.

The car stopped.

Noa blinked.

"What the hell?"

"Come with me."

The words were soft. Too soft.

"Not a chance."

Alessio opened his door. The cold morning air rushed in.

He came around the car with a predator's grace.

Before Noa could bolt, strong fingers gripped his chin. Tilted it up slow, firm, intimate.

"Last chance, Noa. Walk with me. Or I'll make you."

The heat in his eyes made Noa's stomach flip wildly.

God, he hated him. Hated how his body was reacting.

"Fine," he spat. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be."

But under the words was something softer. A hunger that pressed against Noa's defenses like water through cracks.

Alessio released him.

Noa shoved the door open hard, got out fast. Slammed it behind him.

"Five minutes," he warned again.

"Of course."

Liar.

The building they entered was old. Stone walls. Heavy doors that looked like they hadn't been moved in years.

The air inside smelled of whiskey, leather, smoke. Dim lights flickered along the walls.

A club. But not the kind you danced in.

Noa's shoulders stiffened. His skin crawled.

Eyes followed him through the gloom.

Figures lounged in shadows, men and women both. All dangerous. All aware.

"What is this place?" he hissed.

"Neutral ground."

Alessio's hand brushed the small of his back light, possessive.

Noa bristled but didn't move. Couldn't not here.

"You're showing me off?" he hissed through his teeth.

"I'm warning them."

"Of what?"

Alessio's gaze burned through him.

"That you're mine."

Noa's breath caught.

Heat flared sharp and hot low in his belly.

"I'm not."

"Not yet."

Bastard.

A woman approached. Mid-50s. All curves and danger, wrapped in crimson silk.

"Rosetta," Alessio greeted, inclining his head.

"Alessio."

Her gaze flicked to Noa, sharp as a blade. "So this is the boy."

Noa squared his shoulders. "Not a boy. And not his."

Rosetta smiled. Sad, knowing.

"Careful, little one. Monsters don't love. They consume."

"I'm not here for love," Noa snapped, pulse hammering.

"No." Alessio's voice dropped lower. "You're here because you can't stop thinking about me."

Heat rushed up Noa's neck like wildfire.

"Fuck you."

Alessio leaned in. Breath warm against his ear.

"Say that again," he whispered, voice like smoke. "And I might just let you."

Noa's breath hitched. His body betrayed him again aching, burning.

"I hate you," he said. But it sounded thin. Weak.

Alessio's fingers brushed his jaw. Gentle. Almost tender. The contrast was maddening.

"Then hate me. But you'll still come back."

Noa swallowed hard.

"Don't be so sure."

Alessio smiled. Slow. Certain.

"I am."

Rosetta watched them. Eyes sharp as knives.

"Alessio. You play a dangerous game."

"I always do."

"This one could burn you."

"Let him try."

Alessio turned back to Noa, gaze searing.

"We'll be seeing each other again."

"Like hell," Noa said.

But his heart was racing. His fists clenched at his sides.

And part of him deep down wasn't sure if he meant it.

Alessio's smile deepened. "Soon."

The car brought Noa home.

He locked the door.

Bolted it.

Double-checked it twice.

Then paced the apartment like a caged animal.

"Stay away," he whispered to the empty room. "Just stay away."

But when he stripped off the hoodie, crawled into bed

His skin still burned where Alessio had touched him.

His body still ached with unwanted heat that refused to die.

And in the dark just as his eyes began to close a soft knock echoed at the door.

"Noa."

Alessio's voice. Low. Velvet.

"Open up. I want you."