C19 Dangerous

ALARIC

I had lived for centuries with discipline as my only weapon.

Discipline kept me from killing.

Discipline kept me from wanting.

Discipline kept me sane.

Until her.

Sydney Stallone had a way of unraveling me without even trying. And now, she had gone too far.

---

“Effective immediately,” she had said, in front of half the office. “Mr. Alaric will serve as my personal secretary.”

The room went silent. I could feel the stares on me like needles. I could also feel Sydney’s smug satisfaction radiating across the conference table. She didn’t even try to hide it—her smirk was practically glowing.

Now the whole office knew. I was officially her secretary. Didn't know if that was a promotion or a demotion.

I wanted to strangle her.

Instead, I inclined my head like the obedient employee I was pretending to be. But beneath the surface, rage and hunger coiled inside me.

---

Now, I sat in her office, a sleek glass-walled space high above the city, pretending to review schedules while Sydney leaned back in her chair, eyes on me.

“You know,” she said lazily, tapping a pen against her lips, “most secretaries fetch coffee. But since you don’t look like a latte kind of guy, I’ll settle for you carrying my files.”

My jaw tightened. “I’m not your errand boy.”

Her smile widened. “Then what are you?”

Dangerous, I thought. The last man you should ever play games with.

But all I said was, “Efficient.”

She tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t wait to solve. My pulse shouldn’t have quickened under her gaze. I shouldn’t have noticed the way her hair spilled like molten gold over her shoulder, or how her heartbeat quickened whenever our eyes met.

But I did.

And it terrified me.

---

She dropped a folder onto my desk. “I need you at dinner tonight. Business meeting. Don’t be late.”

I looked up sharply. “You presume too much.”

“You work for me,” she said sweetly, “so technically, I don’t presume at all.”

The corner of my mouth twitched before I could stop it. A ghost of a smile—one I hadn’t felt in decades.

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she had caught sight of a rare animal in the wild.

And for a split second, my hunger surged.

Her scent—warm, intoxicating—hit me like a blade. My fangs ached, pushing at the surface.

I turned away, digging my nails into my palms until blood welled. Control. Discipline. I would not break.

---

Later, when she left for a call, I stared out the floor-to-ceiling window at the city lights. Twenty-four years since Sophie’s death, and I still hadn’t found the man who killed her. That was why I had come here. Not for this. Not for… Sydney.

But every time she walked into a room, Sophie’s ghost blurred at the edges, replaced by the fire in Sydney’s eyes.

This was dangerous. She was dangerous.

And yet—I was the one who couldn’t walk away.

---

When she returned, tossing her phone onto the desk, I spoke before I could stop myself.

“Play your games if you want,” I said, my voice low. “But be careful, Sydney. You don’t know the kind of man you’re tempting.”

Her lips curved into a smile that was half-challenge, half-invitation. “Good. I hate boring men.”

She had no idea what kind of monster she was poking at.

And if she wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t be able to protect her—from myself.