Chapter 1

It’s been five years since my mother married into the Sterling crime family, and my relationship with my stepbrother, Louis, is still ice-cold.

He’s arrogant, aloof, and wouldn’t give me the time of day. I know better than to even try.

Until I saw it: a birthmark on Louis’s body, identical to the one on my online boyfriend, Rowan.

I thought about the messages Rowan had sent me every night for the past two years, the ones that made my face flush and my heart race:

Baby, I can only fall asleep thinking of you.

I need to see you. I’ll show you how much I want you. I’m going crazy thinking about you…

I just couldn’t square the man in those messages with the cold-as-ice Louis.

To make matters worse, I had just lied to Rowan, telling him I’d failed to get into Harvard and wasn't good enough for him, before breaking up with him.

If he finds out it was me who dumped him, I’m pretty sure he’ll tear me to pieces.

I was already packing my bags, ready to bolt.

But then Louis appeared, blocking my path. He leaned in, his low laugh a menacing rumble in my ear. "Think you can play me and just walk away? Who gave you the balls?"

Chapter 1

After grad school applications were done, my online boyfriend, Rowan, asked me where I was headed.

“All my applications got rejected. Looks like I’ll be waiting tables to make ends meet for a while.”

On my desk, the corner of my acceptance letter from Harvard’s graduate school peeked out.

I didn’t tell him the truth.

He was too controlling, and I’d been looking for a way out for a while.

Less than three seconds later, Rowan’s reply popped up.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I already sent you money. Come to me. I’ll take care of everything. You won’t be doing that kind of work.”

There it was again.

I ignored it and called my best friend, Mia, to brag about my brilliant plan.

“I heard him chewing out one of his guys on the phone once. He’s a total perfectionist.”

“So I told him I didn’t get into Harvard and have to work odd jobs. He’ll get sick of me and dump me in no time!”

Mia burst out laughing on the other end. “Carrie, you’re a genius!”

Just then, a knock sounded at my door.

It wasn’t locked. The door swung open.

A tall shadow fell over the doorway, blocking out the light.

It was Louis.

My stepbrother, in name only. The sole heir to the Sterling crime family.

He wore a custom-tailored black shirt, no tie, the top buttons undone.

The scent of cold cedar and a hint of tobacco cut through the air.

I flinched back, my hand tightening on my phone.

He was the person I feared most in this house.

The entire North American underworld knew how ruthless he was.

He was always indifferent to everyone in the family, and his eyes, whenever they landed on me, were cold and condescending.

He stood in the doorway, looking down at me.

“Family dinner next Friday. Don’t make a scene.”

His voice was deep, heavy with authority.

“I know,” I said, dropping my gaze to my feet.

I thought he’d leave after delivering the message, like he always did.

But he didn’t move.

Louis’s gaze drifted over my face before landing on the hand gripping my phone.

He took a step forward.

“What were you just saying,” he narrowed his dark eyes, staring at me, “about working odd jobs?”

“N-nothing.” I forced a calm I didn’t feel, my voice cracking. “Just joking around with Mia…”

Louis was silent for a moment before letting out a short, cold scoff. He glanced away and strode out of the room.

I didn’t breathe again until his footsteps faded down the hall.

“Carrie? You still there? Was that Louis?!”

“Yeah, he’s gone. I think he heard us.” I pouted. “Since when do mob bosses eavesdrop?”

“He probably didn’t hear everything. Besides, who cares if he knows? The real problem is your mom. If she finds out you’re dating someone online, she’ll kill you.”

My heart sank at the mention of my mother.

Evelyn.

A social climber obsessed with money and control. Ever since she married the godfather and dragged me into this life, she’s treated me like a pawn to secure her position.

“You have to be perfect!”

“No carbs! Your waist can’t be an inch over the limit!”

“If you can’t marry into a top-tier family, you’re worthless!”

She drilled those words into my head every single day.

I’ll never forget what happened two years ago.

I’d messed up a single note while practicing a Chopin sonata.

Her face went cold. She dragged me to the pitch-black basement and slammed the iron door shut.

“Stay in there and think about what you did! You can come out when you can play it perfectly!”

That day, suffocating in the darkness, I used an old phone I’d hidden to log onto a forum.

I posted about my despair.

That’s when Rowan appeared.

He understood my pain. He told me he hated the people trying to control him, too.

We confided in each other, comforted each other.

I poured out all the frustration and anger I’d bottled up my whole life.

And he took it all in, never judging.

But now, I wanted out.

His need for control was becoming suffocating.

My mother already made it hard to breathe; I didn't need him doing the same.

He’d asked more than once to call, to video chat, even to meet in person.

But I always refused.

Chapter 2

I didn’t reply to Rowan’s messages all afternoon, but he didn’t give up like I’d hoped.

My screen lit up again and again. His messages were relentless.

“Talk to me, Carrie. Don’t pretend you’re not there.”

“How about we meet tonight? I’ll pick you up.”

“Or I have a business trip overseas next month. Want to come with me?”

Then, two photos of impeccably decorated apartments appeared on my screen.

One was a high-rise flat overlooking the city lights, all minimalist black, white, and gray.

The other was a penthouse duplex with a sunroom, cozy and private.

“Which one do you like?” his next message read. “Pick one. I’ll have someone help you move. Don’t bring much; I’ll buy you whatever you need.”

I stared at the screen and sighed.

There it was again.

He was always so damn bossy, arranging my life for me without even asking.

I had to admit, I’d grown to rely on his presence over the past two years. The way he singled me out made my heart flutter.

But he was acting more and more like a patriarch, trying to cage me in his territory with his immense wealth.

I didn’t want to be a canary in a gilded cage.

I flipped my phone face down on the desk, biting my lip. I decided to give him the silent treatment.

The minutes ticked by.

Five minutes later, a new message lit up the screen. This time, just three words, dripping with his unyielding authority.

“Answer the phone.”

My heart skipped a beat.

He was serious.

Ever since we’d met online, I’d made it clear: no calls, no video.

We’d never even sent voice notes.

The most I’d ever seen of him were his hands or a shirt cuff in the occasional photo he sent.

The most he’d ever seen of me was my shadow on the ground in a picture I’d taken.

Before I could figure out how to refuse, the screen flashed with an incoming voice call.

The sudden ring sent a jolt of panic through me. I fumbled to hit decline, but my finger slipped and hit the green answer button instead.

I held my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I scrambled to hang up, but his voice came through first.

“Don’t hang up.”

A deep, slightly raspy voice came through the speaker. It carried the lazy authority of a man in charge, but underneath, there was a hint of tenderness I couldn’t quite place.

The voice was magnetic, and for some reason, strangely familiar.

“Eight o’clock tonight. I’m sending a car for you.” His tone left no room for argument. “Don’t say no. Be good.”

That “be good” sent a shiver down my spine.

I couldn’t let him keep leading me around like this.

I snapped back to reality, my face burning as I slammed the hang-up button.

Taking a deep breath, I opened our chat and my fingers flew across the keyboard:

“Rowan, thanks for everything these past two years. This isn’t working for me. I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

“Don’t contact me again. We’re over.”

I hit send.

To stop myself from caving, I grit my teeth and blocked his number.

After it was all done, I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath. But my chest felt hollow.

Ding.

Just then, my phone lit up again.

It was a text from an unknown number.

“Breaking up isn’t your call to make.”

“I’ve been holding back these past two years, trying to give you space. I can find out who you are and where you live anytime I want. The only reason I haven’t is because you didn’t want me to, not because I couldn’t.”

“Darling, if you dare to run, I’ll drag you back myself and lock you by my side.”

I stared at the words on the screen, my fingers curling into a fist.

That possessive, obsessive tone. He wasn’t even trying to hide his aggression.

My heart pounded in my chest. I was finally realizing just what kind of dangerous man I’d gotten myself involved with.

Chapter 3

I turned off my phone and barely slept a wink.

Rowan’s obsessive, possessive threats echoed in my head all night.

My mind raced. I was terrified he’d just show up at my door.

The next morning, my mother’s impatient knocking rattled my door.

“Carrie! Get out here and try on your gowns! The designers are here!”

I rubbed my sore eyes and forced myself out of bed.

As I reached the turn of the stairs on the second floor, I froze.

It was Louis.

He was wearing a black silk robe, a cup of black coffee in his hand, leaning against the railing.

A dark, heavy mood radiated from him. He looked pissed.

I could smell the faint, sharp scent of gunpowder on him.

The butler once told me that when Louis was in a bad mood, he’d spend all night at the shooting range.

Looks like he had a rough one.

I instinctively tried to detour around him, but he’d already looked up.

His eyes, usually so cold and arrogant, were bloodshot. He looked exhausted and irritable, like he hadn’t slept.

He shot me a cold glance, said nothing, and turned back to his room with his coffee.

I clutched my chest and hurried downstairs.

I spent the entire morning trying on an endless parade of elaborate gowns under my mother’s critical eye.

“Stand up straight! A lot of important people will be at the dinner on Friday. You have to be at your absolute best!” she scolded.

When I finally got a break for lunch, I collapsed back in my room, exhausted.

After a long hesitation, I couldn’t resist turning my phone back on.

The inbox was empty. No more domineering threats from him.

But when I checked my email, I found one that had arrived in the middle of the night.

I clicked it open, my heart starting to race.

“I’m sorry, Carrie. I lost my temper last night.”

“I’m used to giving orders, and I forgot you’re not one of my men. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry if I scared you. That was my fault.”

“We don’t have to meet yet. If you feel pressured, I can give you space.”

“But I will not accept breaking up. Please don’t ignore me.”

I stared at the email, stunned.

This man, always so dominant and proud, was carefully crafting an apology to me at four in the morning.

He held all the power. He could find out who I was whenever he wanted, but he chose to back down for me.

Something soft and aching tightened in my chest.

An image of Louis’s bloodshot eyes and his foul mood from this morning flashed in my mind.

I shook my head, trying to clear the random thought.

Rowan’s retreat made me soften. I sighed and slowly typed out a reply, testing the waters:

“Why do you keep giving in? You don’t even know the real me.”

“The internet is a filter. What if in real life, I’m just an ugly, pathetic liar? Would you still be this persistent?”

I sent the email.

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding, waiting for him to finally back off.

But just a few seconds later, a new email popped up.

He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he asked, “Are you feeling any better now?”

My eyes suddenly burned.

The reason I’d started this online thing with him in the first place was because I was drawn to the rare moments of gentleness beneath his cold exterior.

The pressure in my life was immense. Back then, I really needed that.

His next message came right after:

“I don’t care what you look like. I trust what I feel. I’ve seen more than my share of beautiful faces, but you’re the only one who’s ever gotten to me.”

Chapter 4

After that day, I didn’t dare to ghost Rowan again.

I used the excuse that I was busy looking for a job to slow down my replies.

His compromise in the email had softened me, but I was still terrified of his suffocating need for control.

Before I knew it, it was time for the Sterling family’s annual gala.

The estate was lit up, filled with glamorous people in their finest.

As the family’s sole heir, Louis was naturally the center of attention.

He sat at the main table in a perfectly tailored black suit and a crisp white shirt, looking as arrogant and cold as ever.

I sat in a corner, bored, cutting into the steak on my plate.

Suddenly, a small commotion broke out at the main table.

A nervous waiter had tripped, spilling a glass of red wine all over Louis.

The dark red liquid instantly soaked through his white shirt.

The waiter, trembling, dropped to his knees, apologizing over and over.

Louis didn’t explode. He just scowled, his eyes cold enough to freeze water.

He took off his soiled suit jacket, stood up, and impatiently loosened his tie.

The wet fabric of his shirt clung to his torso, outlining the lean, powerful muscles beneath.

My eyes drifted over, and then they froze.

Under the semi-transparent, damp fabric, on his left side, just over his ribs, I could make out a dark red birthmark.

It was shaped like a crescent moon.

A deafening roar went off in my head, and my mind went completely blank.

Six months ago, Rowan had sent me a post-workout mirror selfie.

He hadn’t shown his face, but on his side, there was an almost identical birthmark.

No. Fucking. Way.

It had to be a crazy coincidence.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I had to know for sure. When no one was looking, I quietly slipped out of my seat.

Holding my breath, I trailed Louis up to his suite on the second floor.

The hallway was empty.

His door was ajar, leaving a small crack.

I swallowed hard, my palms sweating.

All I had to do was push open that door, see the mark clearly, and I’d have my answer.

My hand trembled as I reached out and gently pushed the door open.

Inside, Louis had his back to me, slowly unbuttoning his wet shirt.

His broad back came into view.

I was about to shift to the side for a better look when he whipped around, as if he had eyes in the back of his head.

A cold storm gathered in his dark eyes.

“Who let you in?”

His voice was pure ice.

I stumbled back, stammering, “I… I was just…”

“Get out.”

He cut me off without a shred of mercy, his eyes filled with disgust and suspicion.

Slam!

The door slammed shut in my face, the draft washing over me.

I leaned against the hallway wall, trying to catch my breath, my heart still racing.

Back in my room, I locked the door and dove for my phone on the bed.

The idea was insane.

Louis was Rowan? Impossible.

I bit my lip and sent a probing message to Rowan.

“What are you doing?”

Less than two seconds later, the screen lit up.

Rowan replied instantly: “Working. What’s up, miss me?”

Reading those words, the tension in my body suddenly eased.

That gentle, slightly teasing tone could never belong to Louis.

Remembering how he’d furiously yelled at me to get out, there was no way he had a gentle side like this.

It was probably just a coincidence.

After all, lots of people have similar birthmarks.

I let go of my suspicion for the moment and breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, another message from Rowan came through, thick with flirtation.

“But I miss you a lot, baby.”

“Every night, I have to think about you, about the things you’ve said, just to get some sleep.”

“When can we finally meet? I can’t wait to hold you. The day we meet, I’m going to make up for all the kisses you owe me.”

My cheeks burned reading his blunt words.

His affection for me was always so direct and intense.

But the moment he mentioned meeting, that old fear of being controlled washed over me again.

I couldn’t see him.

“No, we agreed not to meet yet,” I took a deep breath and typed, rejecting him flat out. “I don’t want to.”

I had just hit send.

Click.

The sound of the lock turning.

My mother pushed the door open, interrupting my conversation with Rowan.

Chapter 5

“What are you doing hiding in your room? The party’s not over. Get downstairs with me, now!”

My mother, Evelyn, frowned, her sharp gaze sweeping over me.

I scrambled to shove my phone under my pillow and stood up, feeling a flush of guilt.

“I wasn’t feeling well, so I came up to rest,” I mumbled an excuse.

She snorted, not pressing the issue, just telling me to touch up my makeup and get back downstairs.

It wasn’t until the party was completely over that I dragged my exhausted body back to my room.

I locked the door and immediately grabbed my phone.

On the screen, Rowan had sent two more messages.

Even through the screen, I could feel his suppressed frustration.

“Why do you always say no? Am I not your boyfriend?”

“Is meeting me really that hard for you?”

Those two questions exposed his domineering nature all over again.

I looked at my phone, thinking back over all the details of our conversations from the past two years.

His bossiness and need for control had always been there, plain as day.

He demanded I report my whereabouts every day.

He interrogated me about every friend I had.

For my birthday last month, despite my firm refusal, he insisted on sending me a priceless set of antique jewelry.

He was always like that, invading my life with this high-and-mighty attitude.

I took a deep breath and finally found the courage to reply.

“Rowan, are we equals in this?”

“I’m not your subordinate, and I’m not your pet. I don’t want you arranging my life from on high.”

“I need respect.”

After sending it, I tossed my phone aside.

This time, he didn’t reply instantly.

By the next morning, the screen was still dark.

I felt a pang of disappointment, but also a sense of relief.

“Carrie! Hurry up! You’re going to be late for your piano lesson!”

My mother’s voice boomed from outside the door.

I quickly got dressed.

As I was picking out accessories at my vanity, my eyes fell on a velvet box.

It was a diamond necklace, the most understated piece in the mountain of jewelry Rowan had sent.

Tiny diamonds formed the shape of a crescent moon. It was delicate and subtle.

On an impulse, I picked it up and fastened it around my neck.

I opened the door and followed my mother down to the main hall.

Just as we reached the entrance, we ran right into Louis, who was on his way out.

He was wearing a dark gray trench coat today, his posture ramrod straight, still radiating that keep-your-distance coldness.

“Louis, good morning. Where are you off to?” My mother immediately put on a fawning smile and greeted him warmly.

Louis didn’t even spare her a glance and walked straight out.

My mother froze, embarrassed, and quickly pulled me back to make way for him.

As she did, the silk shawl on my shoulder slipped.

I instinctively reached up to fix it.

Just then, Louis, who had already reached the door, suddenly stopped.

He turned his head.

His gaze swept past my mother, over my hand on the shawl, and then locked onto the diamond necklace at my throat.

The air seemed to freeze.

His focus was intense, a dangerous current swirling in his dark eyes.

It was a predatory, possessive gaze.

As if the necklace, or maybe the person wearing it, was the prey he had been hunting for a long, long time.

His stare was so hot.

So hot it made me snatch my hand back, my heart starting to pound uncontrollably.

Louis stared at the necklace for a long time.

Then, he slowly raised his head.

His gaze traveled up, inch by inch, finally stopping on my face.

It was the first time I could remember ever making direct eye contact with my cold stepbrother.

His expression was a mixture I’d never seen on him before—searching, yet laced with a hint of absolute certainty.

Louis looked at me for a long time, so long that even my mother noticed something was off.

Then he finally strode to his car. The tinted window rolled up, hiding the storm brewing in his eyes.