Chapter 5: A stranger, a perv, and a knight at the bottom of the stairs

SOFIA’S POV

            The bell at the restaurant door jingled again. I barely looked up as I fumbled through my notepad.

Sliding my pencil behind my ear, I grabbed the menu and forced an excited smile. But as I approached the table, hesitation suddenly crept in.

The new customer sat unnaturally still, fingers laced together on the table like he was waiting for someone. His all-black outfit—black shirt, black leather jacket, even black gloves—was what intrigued me the most. Still, something about him set me on edge.

Despite my personal feelings, I relaxed and acted professionally. “Hi! What can I get you?”

His lips curved slightly, but the smile never reached his eyes. “No need for the menu, Miss Morales.”

I stiffened. My name tag only showed my first name. How the hell did he know my surname? My fingers fumbled with the pencil still tucked behind my ear. “Have we met?”

He tilted his head but didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled out a phone, tapped a few times, and turned the screen toward me.

My eyes widened as he showed me a familiar email. A dinner invitation. Tonight. With a certain Rios Alcaraz. A slow, uneasy chill ran down my spine. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know him.” I stepped back slightly. “I don’t do dinner dates with strangers unless—”

“It’s a job proposition.” The stranger cut me off.

He pocketed the phone and sat back. “You should think about it. The boss doesn’t take no for an answer.”

I scoffed. I didn’t like the way he said that.

“Anyway,” the man continued, standing and leveling his gaze at me. “A package will arrive at your apartment later, and your schedule for the night has been cleared.”

“W-what?” I stammered, pulse skipping in my wrist.

With a shrug, the man smiled. “Don’t worry, Miss Morales. We’ve taken care of everything.”

A cold weight settled in my stomach. ‘We?’ I forced my voice to stay steady. “Hey, you don’t get to decide my schedule.”

“It’s already been decided.”

I curled my fingers into fists, nails pressing into my palms. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like him.

“Tell your boss I am not interested.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Miss Morales. You’ll see.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the restaurant, the bell above the door ringing in his wake.

I stood frozen, staring after him, notepad and pencil still in hand. How could they just step on my boundaries like that? Shaking my head, I tried to dismiss the encounter.

My shift ended at three in the afternoon. Unlike most days, when I would stop at the library, I decided to grab a taxi straight to my apartment. I felt strange. Even though I hadn’t seen the man again, it still felt like someone was watching me the whole time I was on my shift. Now, walking toward my apartment building, the feeling hadn’t left.

I adjusted the strap of my bag, glancing over my shoulder. Nothing. Still, the unease crawled under my skin. I quickened my pace. Maybe I was overthinking.

Pulling out my phone, I decided to dial my agent. “Hey, Ashley, I’m just checking in about the gig tonight?”

“Oh, hey, Sofia! Actually, you’ve been given the night off.”

I stopped walking.

“What?”

“Yeah, uh… last-minute thing. Your client pulled some strings. Don’t worry, you’ll still be paid.”

My fingers tightened around my phone. “Client? I don’t—"

“I’ve got to go, babes,” Ashley cut me off. “Enjoy the night.”

Then she was gone.

Strange. I never had clients powerful enough to change my schedule before. A slow prickle ran down my spine. This was getting more bizarre.

I finally stepped onto my floor—and stopped cold.

Indeed, a huge box sat on my doorstep. Waiting for me. My heartbeat quickened.

“A package will arrive at your apartment later, and your schedule for the night has been cleared." The man’s words replayed in my head.

So this was it.

I hesitated before crouching down. Exhaling a sigh, I lifted the box carefully. Surprisingly, it wasn’t heavy. I nudged open my door with my hip and set the box on my small table.

For a moment, I just stared at it. My gut told me not to open it. But—what the hell.

Peeling the lid off, I blinked at what lay inside. A simple yet elegant red dress. Soft fabric. Smooth. Expensive. The dress was designed to look effortless but stunning. My fingers ran through the thin straps and the subtle neckline. I was honestly stunned.

Resting beside it was a pair of strappy nude-colored sandals. And a note: "I'll see you tonight wearing this. – Rios."

My face fell into a frown. Are you fucking kidding me? Angrily, I crumpled the note in my fist. The audacity. The arrogance! Heat flared in my chest as I thought about it. This man—a complete stranger—was telling me what to wear? Where to be? Seriously, what was his game?

I tossed the dress back into the box, gripping the edge of the table so hard my knuckles ached. I still couldn’t understand what the hell his problem was. First, he cleared my schedule without asking. Then, he sent his goon—or whoever the hell that was—to my workplace. Now, he sent me these clothes like I was a doll to be dressed up? Give me a break!

I exhaled sharply, trying to shove the anger away.

‘Oh, Rios Alcaraz, if you want to offer me a job, make sure it’s worth my time.’

Letting out a slow, frustrated breath, I grabbed the box, shoved it into a corner, and turned my back on it. I had better things to do. Now that I had the night off, I could finally edit content for my TikTok mini vlogs.

But first, a shower.

My muscles ached from hours at the restaurant, and the sticky Manila humidity only made it worse. Peeling off my blouse, I caught my reflection in the mirror—skin glistening faintly with sweat, collarbones sharp beneath the dim bathroom light.

I made a face and reached behind me, unclasping my bra and letting it drop carelessly onto the laundry pile. My toned stomach tensed as I stepped out of my jeans, the fabric clinging to my legs before pooling at my feet.

I wasn’t a stranger to my own beauty. I had curves in the right places, a waist that dipped smoothly, and legs that carried me through long shifts and longer nights. I wasn’t delicate—but I was gorgeous.

With a sigh, I twisted the shower handle, stepping under the cool stream as water cascaded down my bare skin. I tipped my head back, fingers running through my damp hair. The scent of strawberry body wash filled the air as I lathered my arms, my shoulders, and the slope of my neck.

But as the steam curled around me, my mind wandered back to the box. Back to the man who sent it.

Rios Alcaraz. Who the hell did he think he was?

I tried to shake the thought, but his name lingered. I imagined our first encounter—the way he moved, the way he spoke—the way he laughed at me. A slow heat curled in my stomach, realizing how hot he was at that moment. Suddenly, something tickled beneath me, and I felt aroused.

My eyes snapped open. ‘What the hell was that?’

Annoyed at myself, I ran a hand over my face, letting the water rinse away the ridiculous thought. Rios Alcaraz might be used to getting his way, but he sure as hell wasn’t getting into my head. Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it tightly around myself, pushing the thought—and the lingering heat in my chest.

It took me a few more minutes before slipping into my most comfortable pajamas. With my hair still damp, I finally stepped out of the bathroom.

“Took you so long to be in the shower.”

I froze. Someone was sitting in my living room. Instinctively, I turned on the lights. And there, with his stinking face, my landlord sneered.

My breath hitched as my grip tightened on the towel in my hand. ‘What the hell is he doing here?’

He sat casually, legs spread slightly, hands resting on his knees. “You left your door unlocked, Sofia.”

His voice was calm. Too calm. I slowly glanced at my door. It was shut. I knew I had locked it. A cold shiver crawled down my spine.

“That’s funny,” I said evenly. “Because I never leave it unlocked.”

Silence. Then, a small, amused chuckle.

“Of course, I have a spare key. This is still my building.”

Without hesitation, I darted toward the door. Donato’s voice followed, angrier now. "Rent’s due, Sofia."

I didn’t stop.

"I know. I—I just need more time."

"You always need more time," he sighed, sounding exasperated. "I could make arrangements," he said. "If money’s an issue."

A sick feeling curled in my stomach. “Nope. Not happening, Mr. Donato.”

My heart pounded as I walked down the hallway. I had barely reached the stairwell when he yanked my arm.

“You are very stubborn!”

I caught a whiff of his breath that always smelled like stale beer.

"What do you want?" I snapped, spinning on him.

Donato smirked, eyes roaming over me. "You know what I want."

Disgust burned in my throat. "You perv!"

His smirk disappeared. "And you’re a slut!"

I slapped him. Hard. But Donato barely flinched. Instead, he shoved me aside, grabbing me.

“Stop! Help me—”

“No one’s going to help you, missy. You know that!”

I struggled as he dragged me back to my door. Several heads peeked from the windows of the rooms next to mine, but no one dared to help. I thought it was the end of me.

But just as we reached my doorstep, a vaguely familiar voice echoed.

"Let the woman go."

I spun my head toward the direction of the voice and noticed Donato stiffened.

Rios Alcaraz stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching us.

And for the first time that night, Donato looked shaken.