Chapter 14 – The Fracture in Reality

The air inside the elevator changed all at once.

Too real.

Too cold.

Too… human.

Raviel, with tears on his cheeks, looked at her as if his soul were breaking.

Evangelina felt everything. The intrigue, the fear, the desire…

And even so, she wanted to know more.

She blinked once.

Twice.

He parted his lips to reveal something else, something that seemed to burn in his chest.

But in that instant, as if fate were afraid of the truth coming to light…

The elevator doors opened.

Raviel disappeared.

As if he had never been there.

Only his scent remained suspended in the air, that intoxicating blend of dark roses and burnt vanilla.

The elevator mirrors were fogged up, as if someone had exhaled centuries of passion and torment.

A thick mist covered the glass… but there was no face.

Nothing.

Not a reflection.

Not a shadow.

Only her.

Alone.

“Where are you…?” she whispered, but it sounded like a lament.

“Where are you…?” she repeated, barely a breath.

There was no answer.

No echo.

Only the sharp sound of the elevator announcing its arrival…

And the impact of her back against another body.

A warm body.

Solid.

Alive.

“Whoa, easy,” said a masculine voice, deep, with a subtle accent and that low tone that slips beneath the skin.

“Are you okay?”

Evangelina looked up and met steel-brown eyes.

Cold, intense, as if they saw more than they said.

The man had messy dark hair, and a scar crossed his left eyebrow like a line written by life.

He wore elegant clothing, formal.

Headphones hung around his neck like a casual detail.

And he carried a black leather briefcase that seemed to never leave his hand.

Everything about him screamed control.

But his eyes… said something else.

“You’re shaking,” he said, more serious now. “Did you get hurt?”

Evangelina shook her head, though her body still trembled.

The energy of what she had just experienced coursed through her like an impossible echo.

Her medallion burned against her skin.

As if it recognized…

Someone else.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice cracked by confusion and vertigo.

He looked at her with a mix of surprise and… pity.

“Kim. I live in 1503.”

Pause.

A dense silence.

A glance exchanged that said too much.

“And you… shouldn’t be alone,” he said, lowering his voice with a warmth that brushed tenderness, yet never lost that dangerous elegance that surrounded him entirely.