Murder, She Desired She was hired to clean floors. She ended up tangled in blood, lies... and his bed. Eva Torres lives in the shadows-scrubbing floors after hours, keeping her head down, and minding her business. But one night, everything shatters. A locked office. A dead body. And a man with a gun who should've pulled the trigger. Dominic Moretti doesn't make mistakes-until her. He's ruthless, untouchable, and far too dangerous. He lets Eva walk out alive... but not free. Now, he's everywhere. Watching. Testing. Tempting. And Eva is spiraling into a world of velvet secrets and deadly games-where every glance is loaded, every touch is a threat, and every kiss tastes like betrayal. She knows she should run. She knows he'll destroy her. But desire doesn't care about right and wrong. And Dominic never leaves a loose end. In a city ruled by crime and seduction, the most dangerous thing isn't what she saw-it's what she's starting to feel.
Chapter 1 IT WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE ANOTHER DAY
Eva Torres clocked in at 10:02 p.m., late by two minutes, though no one ever noticed. That was the beauty of cleaning after hours-no bosses, no coworkers, no questions. Just the echo of her mop sloshing over marble floors and the hum of fluorescent lights above. She liked it that way.
The skyscraper's 43rd floor was silent, its glass walls reflecting the city's glittering skyline. She started in the hallway, headphones in, a true crime podcast droning in one ear. Ironic, maybe. But murder didn't scare her anymore-not the fictional kind, anyway. Real life, real pain? That was different.
At 11:06 p.m., she pushed her cart toward the executive wing. She hated that floor. Too clean. Too quiet. Too... watched. Something about the long corridor of black-tinted glass doors made her feel like someone was always just behind them, breathing on the other side.
That night, one of those doors was open.
Room 4310. CEO conference suite. Lights on.
That wasn't normal.
Eva paused at the threshold. "Hello?"
No answer.
She stepped in, fingers tightening around the handle of her cart. The room smelled off-not like bleach or paper or wood polish. Something sharper. Metallic.
Then she saw it. A man slumped in the leather chair at the end of the table. Eyes wide. A bloom of crimson soaking his white shirt.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Blood.
Real. Blood.
And then-
A sound behind her. The door clicking shut.
She spun, and there he was.
Tall. Dark suit. Brooding eyes that cut through her like ice. And in his hand, a gun.
Time stopped.
They stared at each other, frozen in the stillness between predator and prey.
But he didn't raise the weapon.
He stepped forward instead, calm as a shadow, his voice low and rich.
"You weren't supposed to see that."
Her knees trembled.
"I didn't. I mean- I won't say anything- I'll leave-"
He moved closer. Close enough that she could see the fine cut of his jaw, the slick of blood on his knuckles.
"You're the cleaner, right?"
She nodded, heart slamming in her chest.
His eyes dropped briefly to the name stitched on her uniform: Eva.
"Well, Eva," he said, brushing past her with maddening composure, "you just became part of a very messy night."
She turned to run.
He caught her wrist.
And with that touch-fire, fear, desire-everything changed.
Her breath came in shallow gasps. She yanked at her wrist, but his grip was firm-not painful, just... absolute.
"I didn't see anything," Eva whispered. "I swear."
Dominic tilted his head, studying her like she was a puzzle he hadn't expected to find. "You saw everything," he said softly. "And you walked into the middle of something that doesn't let witnesses walk away."
She flinched.
"I didn't mean to," she stammered. "I don't even know who that guy is."
"That's the problem," he murmured. "You don't have to."
A beat of silence stretched between them. Her eyes darted toward the door. Could she make it? Her legs felt like rubber. His grip tightened just enough to remind her-no, she couldn't.
He exhaled, as if deciding something, and slowly let go of her wrist.
She didn't run. She wanted to, but something rooted her to the spot.
Was it fear?
Or something more dangerous?
Dominic walked past her to the dead man's body, crouching beside it with eerie calm. He wiped the handle of the gun clean with a monogrammed handkerchief and tucked it inside his jacket. He moved like this was routine. Like it didn't even register anymore.
"Who are you?" she asked before she could stop herself.
He glanced over his shoulder, one brow raised. "You really want to know?"
Eva swallowed. "No. Yes. I don't know."
He rose to his full height, taking two slow steps toward her. "Then I'll make it easy for you, Eva."
The way he said her name made her shiver.
"You forget tonight happened. You walk out of here. You go home. You throw that uniform in the trash and get yourself a new job. Somewhere far from this building. Far from me."
"And if I don't?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Something flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Not threat.
Something darker. More curious.
"Then maybe you're not as innocent as you look."
The words sent a chill down her spine.
But it wasn't just fear prickling at her skin.
It was the fire in his gaze. The hunger barely restrained. The way danger clung to him like cologne, intoxicating and suffocating all at once.
He turned, hand on the doorknob.
"I'll give you one chance to walk away, Eva," he said without looking back. "Take it."
And then he was gone.
The room was silent again.
Except for the thundering of her heartbeat.
And the part of her-buried deep, dark, and trembling-that didn't want to run