Pulling his classic black Cadillac onto the side of the street, he positioned himself perfectly to watch the house. Then he looked at the clock and saw he had timed it perfectly. School’s out.

He flipped his lighter off and on, off and on, waiting for her return. Lucca had never been good at sitting still, nor was he a very patient man when he was tired. The night before had been a long one, and his body still felt it this afternoon. Regardless, he had enjoyed every second of it.

Last night, he had lain Mr. Johnson to rest and held up his promise of fucking the blonde until she regretted it. Both things had satiated his dark side … for now, anyway.

Lucca flipped his lighter closed as a stuck-up BMW pulled into the driveway. He had never trusted a German car. The only thing good about it was its black paint color.

A strawberry blonde exited the car. Elle Buchanan. He couldn’t help the sneer he pasted on his face. His little brother was in big fucking trouble.

Watching her walk to the front door, he believed the girl only got prettier the more you looked at her.

It’s going to be a shame when I have to strangle the life out of her.

One thing was for sure, the girl was going to die, and nothing was going to save her. It was unfortunate she had been there when the trigger had been pulled, but some girls were just born unlucky, this one in particular. She was only going to make it another month to her eighteenth birthday.

The stuck-up looking car reversed, drawing back his attention. He wondered who would drop off a girl in this neighborhood. Truthfully, he was a little shocked this was the address, considering the girl had come from a prep school.

Looking at the clock again, he noticed there was a bit of time before Elle went to work. His gut told him to follow the car. Anyone she hung out with could possibly be collateral damage if her fucking mouth blabbed too much.

Lucca started his car, deciding to follow the BMW. He kept a good distance back, following it in a direction he hadn’t been expecting. This part of town was mostly owned by the city, along with some expensive restaurants and shops.

Watching the car pull into one of the most expensive shops in town, he parked on the street and pulled out his cell phone to text the license plate number to a friend. He waited in anticipation, the curiosity slowly eating away at him, only growing worse when the car door opened.

Immediately, he knew it was a woman when tall, black boots and black jeans hit the ground. The next thing he noticed was her long, silky hair. It was the blackest hair he had ever seen.

He desperately wanted a glimpse of her face, but she never turned around.

Lucca found himself turning off the car and getting out, wondering how this was more important than anything else he could do with his time. His instincts were what kept him going, following her into the store.

Lucca prided himself on being able to go unnoticed. His appearance of dark jeans, black shirts, and black sweatshirts allowed him to do that, plus his scruffy face and hair. He could go places no one in the family could go. Made men demanded attention with their suits and immaculate grooming, whereas he didn’t need that kind of attention. I have other ways to get the attention I demand.

Entering the store undetected was easy with all the expensive shit it held. He navigated the store, finding the girl in all black who seemed to be looking for a particular piece. A slight glimpse of the left side of her face revealed her soft porcelain skin. He stalked closer.

Have I seen her before?

Another small glimpse revealed her young age.

Stopping, he was about to turn around. She’s too young.

The girl turned then went back to a table she had missed.

His heart stopped a beat when he saw the whole left side of her face and a striking gray eye. The other half of her face was covered by a veil of hair. He wished he could reach out to feel the pure black strands of silk and move it to reveal the rest of her face.

Leave now. Nothing good would come of this. He should have left the moment he had noticed she was just a teenage girl.

He was unable to place it yet, but something about her called to him. It kept him from looking away from the girl and leaving.

The whole thing felt so wrong yet so right. He was being pulled in different directions. His mind told him to leave, but his body kept him patiently waiting.

Watching her hand go up to her face, he felt his breath catch in his throat when she swept her hair behind her ear. Fuck.

His heart skipped another beat at the sight of her face in its entirety. His eyes traveled down the right side of her gorgeous face that held a scar from above her eyebrow down to the hollow of her cheek. Another one graced the right side above and below her luscious lips. The instinct to let his fingertips glide down each mark was so strong he thought he might break his cover.

Her gray eyes held the story behind the scar, a story of sadness, grief, and torture. It was like staring at a perfect porcelain doll that had been dropped one too many times. Others would see a flaw in the cracked doll, making her no longer perfect, but he saw only beauty. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

He could watch her study the delicate piece with gentle hands for hours.

The gold, ornate piece she was infatuated with was unfamiliar to him until she opened the egg-shaped object, and music began to play. Her eyes danced as she watched a ballerina twirl to the music. He wondered what it would feel like if she looked at him that way.

“It’s a beautiful piece, isn’t it?” the older woman who looked to be the storeowner asked as she came up to her.

The girl quickly became startled, shutting the music box. He wanted her to go back to the way she had been a moment before.

When her tongue peeked out to lick her lips, he eagerly waited to hear the voice that belonged to her.

“Y-yes.” She went back to looking at the box, avoiding the gaze of the woman. “H-how much is it?”

“Three thousand dollars.”

She removed her fingers from the piece. “Oh.”

The woman kindly smiled. “I know Christmas just passed, but you could always ask for it for your birthday, maybe. I could hold it.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s too much.”

The lady smiled. “Well, you could always come back if you talk your parents into it.”

“Thank you.” The girl took one last glance at the music box before she left the store.

Watching her leave was harder than he had thought it would be. He wouldn’t be able to come out of the store until she pulled out. Therefore, he had to watch her go to the car through the display window, and that wasn’t close enough for him.

A vibration in his pocket had him pulling out his cell phone. He didn’t say a word when he accepted the call.

His friend Sal came over the phone. “The BMW is registered to Maxwell Masters.”

That wasn’t what he had expected, though it explained why he felt like he had seen her before.

“Girl,” Lucca spoke into the phone carefully, watching her approach the driver’s side.

“He’s married to Elaine Maste—”

“Younger,” he cut him off.

Sal paused. “Scar?”

Lucca’s eyes traced her markings. “Yes.”

“That’s Maxwell’s daughter, Chloe Masters.”

He ended the call with the push of a button.

Time stood still for him as he soaked in anything and everything he could about her before she disappeared into the car.

There was always a moment one faced in life when a choice had to be made, and this was his.

Her tortured soul called to his dark one, whispering for him to save her. His heart was now slow, steady, finding its purpose—Chloe Masters …

Taking one last look at the scar on her face, he couldn’t wait for the day he could run his fingers across it. Beautiful.