A dangerous curiosity

Amara tried to go back to her normal routine—classes, tutoring, sketching in the park—but her mind kept slipping. Not to Roman's face, exactly, but to how he made her feel.

Like she'd stepped off the edge of something and didn't care where she landed.

Three days passed with no contact.

No text. No flowers. No mysterious black cars idling at the curb.

She told herself that was good. He was dangerous. Complicated. A man with blood on his hands and power in his name.

But when a plain white envelope slid under her apartment door on the fourth day, her heart jumped.

Inside was a handwritten note in sharp, elegant script.

*Dinner. 8 PM. No pressure. — R*

No address. Just a keycard with the Aria Hotel logo.

Amara stared at it for hours.

Nia didn't help. "You're seriously not going, right?"

"I shouldn't."

"But you are."

Amara didn't answer. But at 7:30, she was already dressed.

---

The top floor of the Aria was quiet. Too quiet.

The suite opened to a space that smelled like leather and something expensive she couldn't name. Roman was at the window, back to her, glass of scotch in hand.

She took a step in, heart pounding.

He didn't turn. "You came."

"I was curious."

"You shouldn't be."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's not how invitations work."

Now he turned.

Roman's gaze swept over her, slow and unapologetic. Not lustful. Just... observant. Like she was a puzzle only he could solve.

"You're different," he said.

"Different from what?"

"Everyone."

She crossed her arms. "Do you say that to all the women you invite to your fortress in the sky?"

His smirk was slight. "No. You're the first one who ever came without being told twice."

He motioned to a private table set by the window. Candlelight, a view of the city, and two covered plates.

"Dinner?" he offered.

"Interrogation?"

He gave a soft laugh. "Maybe both."

She sat. He joined her. The air between them crackled with unsaid things.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, not touching her food.

Roman looked at her, serious now.

"I want to understand why a woman with no reason to be near danger walked into it like she belonged."

Amara's pulse jumped. "Maybe I don't scare easily."

"Or maybe you're reckless."

They stared at each other, and the moment stretched—taut and electric.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said finally. "But I will, without meaning to."

She took a slow breath. "Then maybe you should let me walk away."

Roman leaned forward slightly, voice low. "Maybe I can't."

---

Hey guys it's me again.

Like I said I am an upcoming writer and I will really appreciate if you tell me what you love about my story. I would really appreciate. And tell me if I should write another one. And which theme. I will pick one person