The Reaper

They say you can’t serve two masters.

But I was trying to serve a hundred—

my restaurant, my reputation, the impossible standards I’d wrapped around myself like armor.

I built Promenade from nothing. I clawed my way into the culinary world one reservation, one review at a time.

There was no room for distractions.

Especially not men.

Then Caleb Dane walked in.

New in town. Quiet. Lethal.

He didn’t say much that first night, just sat alone and watched.

But somehow, I felt it—that weight of his stare, the danger in his stillness.

It was like being hunted in plain sight, and something inside me—something buried—rose to meet him.

I told myself he was just a customer.

Then he came back. Again and again.

Not for the food.

Not for the view.

For me.

He says he wants to keep me safe.

But I’ve seen the look in his eyes.

There’s nothing safe about Caleb Dane.

He’s not just a man—he’s a force of nature.

Unmovable. Unrelenting. And already circling.

I’ve spent years controlling every detail of my life.

But the second I let him touch me, I knew—

I wasn’t in control anymore. He was.

Because when Caleb wants something, he takes it.

And when he decides it’s his?

There’s no escape. No negotiation. No second chances.

I thought I was building a legacy.

Turns out, I was building a cage.

And he just walked in with the key.