Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Yasmin’s POV

The heavy mahogany doors gave way with a quiet, expensive sigh, but the scene waiting on the other side hit me with the force of a physical blow.

Before my eyes could even register what was happening, the thick, heavy scent of premium tobacco and cedarwood invaded my senses. It was a rich, intoxicating smell, but it was laced with something far more primal and raw.

My feet fused to the floor. The air inside my lungs turned to solid ash, leaving me completely unable to breathe.

Standing behind the massive glass desk was a man who looked less like a human and more like a predatory force of nature. He was easily the most beautiful, terrifying person I had ever seen. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, his dark hair was a messy ruin, and his broad, tan chest rose and fell in heavy, ragged movements.

But he was not alone.

A woman was bent over the sleek glass surface of his desk, her fingers clawing at the polished edges. She was completely lost to her own pleasure, her head thrown back as she let out loud, breathless moans that echoed off the high ceiling.

Yet, it was the Alpha who held me entirely captive.

Clamped casually between his teeth was a thick, half-smoked cigar. A steady coil of grey, fragrant smoke snaked upward, framing his devastatingly handsome face in a hazy, villainous halo.

The moment the door clicked open, Roman did not flinch. He did not pull away. Instead, his piercing, dark eyes snapped directly to mine through the shifting veil of smoke.

The sheer power in his gaze pinned me to the spot. My cheeks burned with a sudden, violent heat, and a wave of raw embarrassment flooded my veins. I wanted to look away, to run, to vanish into the floorboards, but I could not move. What made the terror in my chest spike to a dizzying level was that he did not stop.

With one hand gripping the woman's hip, he reached up with his other hand, slowly plucking the smoldering cigar from his lips. He took a long, deliberate drag, the cherry of the tobacco glowing a fierce, hot orange in the dimness of his office. He exhaled the thick cloud of smoke slowly, directly in my direction, never once breaking eye contact.

His movements remained deep and entirely deliberate, his body driving into the crying woman with a ruthless, hypnotic rhythm, while his gaze remained locked on me. He stared right through my soul, watching the panic and shame play out on my face as if he owned every single emotion in my body. The combination of his raw, dangerous sexuality and the dark, nonchalant way he smoked that cigar was completely intoxicating. It was a display of pure, untouchable power.

"Ahh, fuck," he hissed under his breath.

The low, gravelly sound tore from his throat, accompanied by another puff of grey smoke that drifted over his desk. That sound finally broke the paralyzing spell.

I turned on my heel and bolted, my sneakers skidding on the polished floor. I ran like the devil himself was snapping at my heels, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

I slammed my hand against the elevator button, but the digital display showed the car was still dozens of floors down. It was too slow. I could not stand there, exposed and waiting for him to walk out. Spitting a silent prayer, I lunged for the heavy metal door of the emergency stairwell and yanked it open.

I practically flew down the concrete steps, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. My mind raced, trying and failing to erase the memory of his dark eyes watching me through the smoke while he took what he wanted. By the time I burst through the heavy doors at the bottom, my lungs were burning and my legs shook. I hurried toward the grand glass entrance of the lobby, desperate to melt into the safety of the crowded city streets.

But my steps faltered.

Standing near the exit, leaning casually against a towering marble pillar, was the exact same man.

He was not wearing a suit. He wore a worn leather jacket over a dark shirt, casual black jeans, and heavy leather boots. He did not look like a corporate executive or a wealthy businessman. He looked wild, dangerous, and completely out of place in this pristine tower. He still held the cigar between his fingers, the ashes cold now, but his aura was just as lethal.

My mind spun in a dizzying circle. There was no way he could have beaten me down here. It was physically impossible. Was I losing my mind?

I lowered my head, clutching my bag tightly as I tried to slip past him, pretending I had not seen him.

In the fraction of a second, the space in front of me was occupied. He moved with a speed that defied human limits, appearing directly in my path so quickly that I nearly slammed face first into his chest. The rich, overwhelming scent of tobacco, cedarwood, and fresh rain washed over me, completely trapping me.

"You seem to be in such a hurry, Yasmin," he murmured. His voice was a low, velvet purr that sent a sudden shiver cascading down my spine. He took a single step closer, his towering shadow completely swallowing me up. "And we haven't even been properly introduced."