Falling in Love with Mr. Untouchable
Chapter One – The Girl Who Knows Too Much
(Section 1 of Full Chapter – Draft in Progress)
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The rain never stopped in this part of the city. It didn't drizzle like in the movies—it slammed down like judgment, like fury, like something trying to erase the sins soaked into the pavement.
Elena Saint-Claire stood beneath a flickering streetlamp, her coat clinging to her like wet paper, her breath fogging up in short bursts as she stared across the street at a building no one should be looking at for long.
It didn't have a name. Not on the outside. Just dark, gleaming glass and guards in tailored black suits who didn't smile.
But Elena knew what it was. She had followed the threads. Names whispered in court transcripts. Money that vanished without explanation. Politicians who resigned suddenly and quietly. This building was the endpoint. The spider's nest.
And behind all of it was the name she had started dreaming about: Dominic Voss.
Not much was known about him. He didn't do interviews. He wasn't on social media. There were no childhood photos, no documented scandals—just rumors. Brutal ones.
They called him "The Untouchable." Because no one who tried to expose him ever got close. Because no one who crossed him ever got back up.
Elena's fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of her notepad beneath her coat. She hadn't planned to come tonight. She didn't have a plan at all. Just a deep, gnawing hunger to see the place where the devil kept his throne.
A sharp voice in her ear snapped her back to reality. "You've been standing there too long," said Liam, her ex-boyfriend and now reluctant tech contact. His voice crackled through the Bluetooth earpiece she wore beneath her rain-matted hair. "You're going to draw attention."
"I already have," she murmured. "Two guards clocked me ten minutes ago."
"Jesus, Elena—"
"I'm not going in. I just need to see if the black Maserati shows up again. Same time as last week."
There was silence on the other end. Then a sigh. "This obsession is going to kill you."
"Maybe," she whispered. "But I'll have the truth when it does."
Chapter One – The Girl Who Knows Too Much
(Section 2 of Full Chapter)
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Elena crossed the street like a ghost — invisible but watching. Her boots splashed through puddles of oil-slicked water, her eyes never leaving the polished black building that shimmered like obsidian beneath the stormlight.
The street was empty except for a beggar two blocks down and the occasional flash of a town car pulling into one of the city's quieter elite spots — a private club that didn't exist on paper. She knew the name, of course. Vesper. Exclusive. Untouchable.
Like him.
She paused near a maintenance van parked along the curb, shielding herself from the direct view of the building. Liam's voice returned in her ear, softer now.
"Still nothing?"
"Not yet." Elena scanned the street. "But I feel it. He's close."
"'Feel it'?" Liam said. "You sound obsessed."
She didn't answer.
Because she was.
It hadn't started that way. At first, Dominic Voss had just been a name in a file. A whispered connection between two seemingly unrelated overdoses and a senator's disappearance. The deeper she dug, the more links she found. Money that vanished. Women who left the country under fake names. Whistleblowers who disappeared without explanation.
Then she found the photograph.
It was grainy, zoomed in from what must have been a surveillance drone. A tall man in a black coat stood at the edge of a private airstrip. Face turned from the camera. Surrounded by three armed men who looked more like soldiers than bodyguards. The timestamp said: 3:17 a.m.
That had been enough to set her on fire. Because while the world was sleeping, he moved. While good men tried to clean the mess, Dominic made more of it.
She became obsessed with seeing his face. His real one. Not just the few pixelated hints hidden in grainy frames.
She had been watching the Vesper building for weeks now, keeping notes. The guards. The vehicles. The routine. Always just out of reach.
Until tonight.
A low growl of an engine turned the corner behind her, deep and slow. Her body stiffened.
"Liam," she whispered. "He's here."
A black Maserati slid up to the curb beside Vesper. No license plate on the front. Tinted windows. The engine didn't cut. The guards outside the door straightened immediately.
He hadn't even stepped out, and already the atmosphere changed.
That was power.
She watched with breath held. The rear passenger door opened.
A foot stepped out. Shined leather, custom-cut. Then a tall man emerged, black coat slicing through the rain, head tilted just slightly toward the ground.
Elena held her breath.
She couldn't see his face.
He didn't look around, didn't need to. The world turned itself to make way for him.
He walked through the door like a shadow—never rushing, never hesitating—and was gone.
Just like that.
But something strange happened.
He paused at the threshold.
A pause so brief it was almost imperceptible. His head turned, just slightly. And for one fleeting second, he looked directly at her.
Through the rain. Through the dark. Through the windowless mask of power.
Her heart stopped.
She pressed herself flat against the van.
"Liam," she said, voice trembling. "He saw me."