Isabella Reed hated the feeling of being watched.
It made her skin crawl, made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. But this wasn't just any gaze—it was his.
No matter how crowded the ballroom was, no matter how many people surrounded her, she could always sense him. It was as if his presence was imprinted into the air around her, thick and inescapable, pressing against her skin like an invisible touch.
She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
Ethan Lancaster.
The man who had become the shadow she couldn't shake.
She forced herself to keep moving, weaving through the glittering sea of the city's elite. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, casting a golden glow over the Lancaster Foundation Gala. Conversations hummed around her—polite laughter, business deals being struck between sips of champagne, whispered gossip about who had arrived with whom.
She should have felt safe in the crowd.
Instead, she felt trapped.
She exhaled slowly, reminding herself that she was here for Claire, that she wasn't going to let Ethan ruin her night. She had avoided him for weeks, had ignored his texts, declined his invitations, and yet… here he was.
Because Ethan Lancaster was the kind of man who never took no for an answer.
She spotted the bar across the room and made her way toward it, pretending not to notice the piercing blue eyes tracking her every move.
"Running from me again, Isabella?"
The voice came from behind her—deep, smooth, and maddeningly calm.
Her breath caught, but she refused to let him see how much he affected her. Schooling her expression, she turned slowly to face him.
Ethan Lancaster stood before her, impossibly tall and devastatingly composed, his presence swallowing up the space around them. He wore a black suit, tailored to perfection, the crisp white of his shirt accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw. His dark hair was neatly styled, but there was always an unruly strand that fell over his forehead, softening the otherwise brutal handsomeness of his features.
But it was his eyes that held her captive.
Icy blue. Cold and unreadable. Yet, beneath the surface, she sensed something dangerous lurking there.
Something obsessive.
"I didn't realize I needed to run from you," she said, keeping her voice steady.
A slow smirk curved his lips, the kind that sent warning bells ringing in her head. "You always do."
Her stomach twisted.
Because he wasn't wrong.
From the moment she had met Ethan, she had been running—from his intensity, from the way he watched her like she was something he planned to own.
It had started subtly. A glance that lasted too long. A fleeting touch that felt too intimate. A knowing smirk whenever he caught her looking his way.
And then it escalated.
He showed up where she least expected him—at charity events she hadn't even mentioned attending, at the café she visited every Sunday morning, at the bookstore where she lost herself in fiction to escape him.
Coincidence? She didn't believe in coincidences anymore.
"Enjoy the party, Ethan," she said coolly, turning toward the bar.
But he moved, stepping in front of her, cutting off her escape.
"One dance," he said.
It wasn't a question.
Her jaw tightened. "No."
"One dance, Isabella," he repeated, his voice low, velvety smooth. A lure wrapped in steel.
She lifted a brow. "Why? So you can add me to your collection?"
His smirk didn't falter, but something in his gaze darkened.
"You think that's what this is?" he murmured.
"I know what this is."
Her voice was firm, but inside, she was unraveling.
Because Ethan wasn't just some entitled billionaire who thought he could have anything he wanted. No, he was different. More relentless. More dangerous.
And the scariest part?
A part of her was drawn to him anyway.
The way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that existed in his world, was intoxicating. It made her feel exposed. Wanted.
But she wasn't some prize to be won.
Not by him.
Not by anyone.
She pushed past him, ignoring the way her pulse raced, the way her body betrayed her with every step she took. She didn't look back.
This time, she would walk away.
This time, she would escape him.
But deep down, she knew the truth.
Ethan Lancaster wasn't a man who let go of what he wanted.
And what he wanted… was her.