The garden was bathed in silver moonlight, its towering hedges casting long, eerie shadows over the stone pathways.
The scent of night-blooming jasmine curled through the cool air, mingling with the distant murmur of the party still echoing from the grand house.
The upstairs balcony overlooked the scene, its wrought iron railing tangled with ivy, while the glow from the chandeliers inside barely reached the garden’s darkest corners.
Laz stood there, leaning against the ivy-covered wall at the garden’s edge.
The moonlight reflected on his sharp features, casting haunting shadows across his face.
His dark eyes, unreadable and intense, followed Frida as she stord toward him, her breath coming in short, furious puffs.
She didn’t want to scold him in front of everyone, so she had grabbed his wrist and dragged him outside.
"How could you be so relaxed right now?" she fud. "You were literally just caught!"
But sothing about Laz felt different...off. The energy rolling off him wasn’t the boy she knew. This was sothing else. Sothing darker. Sothing... intoxicating.
"Talk, Frida." His voice was a deep, lazy drawl, slow and unrushed, as if he had all the ti in the world. "You’re going to choke on those words stuck in your throat."
She swallowed but didn’t back down. "How could you?"
His gaze locked onto her, sharp as a blade slicing through her defenses. "Do what?" he asked, his voice smooth, dangerous.
She reached behind her, pulling the crumpled red notes from where she’d tucked them, inside the waistband of her panties, the only hiding place in her thin pajama shorts.
She held them up, her hands trembling slightly. "These. Are you the one who’s been sending these?"
His lips curled into a slow, foreign smirk. "Yeah."
So easy. So unbothered.
Laz’s smirk deepened, sothing predatory glinting in his eyes. He reached out lazily, plucking the notes from her fingers, but instead of reading them, he brought them to his face... and sniffed.
Frida’s breath caught in her throat, heat rushing through her body like wildfire.
Her fingers twitched, resisting the urge to snatch them back, but she was frozen, entranced, scandalized.
His eyes t hers as he inhaled slowly, deliberately, his lids half-lowered like he was savoring sothing forbidden.
Her stomach flipped. She tried to get a grip of her senses. "You’ve been stalking !"
A wicked chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Stalking is a strong word, Frida," he murmured. "More like... watching." He tucked the notes into his pocket, his other hand sliding into his jacket as he leaned back against the wall, one leg bent lazily.
For so reason, he had never looked hotter.
She’d always thought Laz was fine, cute, attractive, even, but this... this was sothing else.
He was a stranger wearing the face of the boy she used to know, and it sent a thrill through her veins.
"Sa thing!" she snapped, shaking herself. "God, I had to go to therapy because I thought I was crazy!"
He shrugged, utterly unfazed. "You can’t bla , Frida." His face was mostly hidden in shadow now, but the sharp gleam of his teeth flashed in the dark. "Who wouldn’t watch you?"
His voice dropped into a deep rumble, and she flushed.
"You cut off," he murmured, stepping forward. She instinctively took a step back. "You deprived of your voice, of being near you. I had no choice."
She blinked, flustered. "That doesn’t make it right!" she pouted. "What have you been doing all these years?"
He ran a hand through his hair, the moonlight catching on the strands, making them shine like silk. "I’ve been busy. School. Developing projects for the company. Turns out, I’m good at what I do, grew it into a billion-dollar industry. But..." he took another step, close enough that she could feel his heat.
"I’ve also been watching you."
Her breath hitched. He said it so casually, so unashad.
Her heart stopped.
A slow smirk curled his lips. "Should I say I’m sorry?"
Her skin prickled. "I could’ve called the cops on you, you know?"
"But you didn’t." He countered smoothly, his grin was tangible, even in the dim light.
Damn it, why did he sound so smug?
She glared, placing her hands on her hips. "What is wrong with you?!"
His expression darkened. "You." His voice was husky, raw. "You’re what’s wrong with ."
She barely had ti to react before he moved, pushing off the wall in one smooth motion.
The mont he stepped fully into the moonlight, she sucked in a sharp breath.
She had forgotten just how tall he was, how broad his shoulders had beco, how his presence alone could steal the air from her lungs.
"I’ve been trying so hard to be your knight in shining armor. The boy next door. Your prince charming." He stalked closer, his every step slow, deliberate.
"But I’m not."
The cold stone wall pressed into her back, a cruel contrast to the heat radiating from him. He caged her in, his arms bracketing her without touching.
"I’m not your prince, Frida. I’m not the sweet boy who had a crush on you. That boy is gone."His voice was thick with sothing dangerous, sothing real.
The chill of the night and the heat radiating off his body was making her head spin.
Her breath was coming in ragged pants now, her pulse hamring as his presence consud her.
"I want you, Frida," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her skin. "I want you so bad it’s driving insane. But I respect you, so I wait."
She gasped as he dipped his head, his lips brushing just beneath her ear. His voice was a husky growl. "But don’t push ."
A shiver ran down her spine as he inhaled deeply against her neck. "Because I want you in ways that would ruin us both."
His big veiny hands found her waist, his grip firm, possessive, yet unbearably gentle. She nearly buckled.
"I feel no remorse for wanting you," he murmured before his teeth grazed her skin, nipping at the sensitive spot on her neck. A whimper escaped her lips.
"I desire you," he continued, his voice a sinful rasp. "I want to feel you unravel beneath . I want to touch you...taste you."
Her head was spinning. Her fingers found his shoulders, holding on for dear life.
He pulled back slightly, his lips just inches from hers. "You might want to avoid , but you crave that red-note guy, don’t you?" His gaze burned into hers.
She didn’t respond, but her body betrayed her. Her breath ca in ragged gasps, her pupils blown wide.
"Don’t you?" he repeated, voice dark velvet.
A broken moan was her only answer.
He exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead to hers. "I’m a man, Frida. Don’t do this to ...don’t stand here looking like this under the moonlight."
And just as suddenly as he had caged her in, he let her go.
Her body mourned the loss of his heat. He took her trembling hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to her knuckles.
"First, I win you back," he murmured, gaze flickering to her parted lips.
"Then, you’re mine."
She was too stunned, too breathless, to move.
Laz simply smirked.
And then he walked away, leaving her reeling beneath the watchful eye of the moon.
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