The invitation came as a simple text.
Dominic: Rooftop. 9PM. Wear something red.
No explanation. No emojis. Just a time, a place, and a color.
Amelia stood in front of her mirror that evening, staring at herself in a crimson silk dress that clung to her curves like a whisper. She'd tied her hair into a loose knot, let strands fall on purpose, and painted her lips in the same exact red as the dress. She wasn't sure what she expected from tonight—but she wanted to feel like someone who belonged beside a man like Dominic.
The driver arrived precisely at 8:40PM. Black car. Tinted windows. Silent man at the wheel.
The ride was smooth, taking her through unfamiliar parts of the city until the car pulled into a gated building that towered over its neighbors like a silent watchman. The elevator inside led her to the top floor—straight to the rooftop.
And what a rooftop it was.
There were string lights draped from the beams, glowing golden in the twilight. Classical music poured from hidden speakers. People in tailored suits and designer gowns sipped champagne under the open sky, surrounded by the soft hum of wealth.
Dominic stood at the center of it all. Black shirt. Black slacks. The top two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing the edge of a tattoo curling down his collarbone.
His eyes met hers, and the entire world blurred around the edges.
He walked to her, hands in his pockets, the predator in silk. "You look like temptation incarnate."
"And you look like you own the sky," she replied.
He offered his arm, and she took it.
The evening was a maze of polite introductions and unspoken hierarchies.
Everyone knew Dominic, but no one reallysaid how. They just called him Dominic—no last name. Some bowed their heads slightly. Some watched him with wariness, others with admiration. But always with distance.
There was only one person who broke the pattern.
Vivienne.
Tall. Raven-haired. Dressed in a velvet gown that hugged her body like skin. Her lipstick was the same blood red as Amelia's.
"You're the girl," Vivienne said smoothly, her eyes sliding over Amelia like a blade. "The one he's been keeping in the shadows."
Amelia blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, he always brings someone new. But never here. Never this close."
Dominic appeared at Amelia's side then, his hand curling around her waist—casual, but firm.
"Viv," he said with warning in his voice.
"Don't."
Vivienne smiled, teeth flashing. "Just saying hello. It's nice to meet a woman brave enough to play with knives."
She walked away without another word.
Amelia turned to Dominic. "Who was that?"
"No one that matters."
"That's a lie."
He paused. "It's a truth that hurts less."
Later, when most of the guests had left and the night was thick with city glow, Dominic led her to the edge of the rooftop.
Below, the world buzzed in miniature.
"You didn't belong here," he said softly.
She stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"I mean—you made them look dull. You burn brighter than this place."
Amelia exhaled, the tension in her chest uncoiling slightly. "You're not very good at giving compliments."
"I'm better at giving confessions."
"Then give me one."
He looked at her for a long time. And for a moment, she thought he might finally tear the veil.
But instead, he kissed her.
Slow. Sure. A kiss that said I can't tell you who I am, but I want to be yours anyway.
Her fingers slid into his hair. He pulled her closer until their bodies molded together. The kiss deepened. His hands roamed with aching restraint, as though he was trying not to lose control. Her dress slipped slightly from her shoulder, revealing skin that flushed at his touch.
The rooftop blurred around them. The city noise faded. There was only heat, breath, skin.
But just as he backed her gently toward the rooftop wall, his phone buzzed.
One buzz. Two.
Then a third.
He pulled away, jaw clenched.
"Don't," she whispered. "Not now."
But he was already checking the screen.
His face changed.
Just for a second, it drained of color.
He locked the phone, slipped it into his pocket, and kissed her forehead.
"I have to go."
"Dominic—"
"I'm sorry."
He left without a backward glance.
Alone on the rooftop, Amelia felt the night crash back in.
What the hell had just happened?
She walked to the edge, staring at the streetlights below, trying to steady her breath. Every inch of her body still ached for him. But her mind was loud now.
Who had texted him? What could pull a man away from a moment like that?
She pulled out her phone. No new messages.
Just the photo of Dominic from 2006.
She opened a new note and started typing. Something she hadn't done in years.
"I've never wanted someone who scared me before.
But every time I get close, I feel like I'm trespassing in a life I don't understand."
She saved it and stared at the skyline.
Behind her, the rooftop was empty. But for the first time, she wondered if she had ever really been alone up here at all.