Chapter 1

This is a bad idea.

For the umpteenth time that sentence rang in my head. A little regret tucked into my heart for rejecting Oliver's offer to take me home.

Well, it was actually part of my pride that prevented me from taking up the offer.

We just ended our relationship two weeks ago. After two years of being with him, finally a few weeks ago a woman came into my apartment and slapped me just like that before screaming at me to stay away from Oliver.

She claims to be Oliver's girlfriend, and admits they have been dating for over a year.

Damn Oliver, he's not even that handsome. But that damn thing has been cheating on me behind my back for over a year.

I looked back again for the third time, while my feet were still moving. My instincts told me something was following me, or someone.

All this because Mr. Newman forced some of his staff to work overtime for the past three days.

And today is the worst, we can only go home at half past twelve in the evening. Me, Oliver, and several other staff.

Unfortunately there are no buses running at this late hour, whereas waiting for a taxi will take longer. So I stupidly decided to walk.

Now, the idea of ​​walking alone to my apartment at 12 at night sounds so stupid.

I turned my head back to the deserted street behind me. This area is too quiet.

"This is a really bad idea, Ella." I muttered to myself. I should have been patient and waited for a taxi.

I've passed this road several times because it's the quickest route to my apartment on foot.

This street is filled with food shops and Mexican goods which I remember always being busy during the day. Unfortunately the atmosphere during the day is in stark contrast to tonight.

All shops have stopped operating and closed tightly. I could only see the light from some of the shop windows and from the street lamps. The rest was pitch black.

The sound of my heels which were not too high sounded faint when I knocked on the pavement I was walking on. Somehow the fine hairs on the nape of my neck have stood up a little since entering this damn street.

I forced my eyes to look straight ahead, only a hundred meters left until I got out of this terrible road. And I promise I'll never go through it again at night.

Suddenly a shrill scream broke the silence around me, making my steps stop in place. His voice sounded slashing, as if the owner of the voice was really in pain.

A stark contrast to the silence I previously heard.

All the fine hairs on my body are now standing up together with the instinct in my head that screams to run. But part of my conscience told me to turn around and help the owner of that voice.

This is one of human weakness; trusting his conscience more than his brain. If this were a horror film, I would be the first to die horribly.

My heart pounded hard inside my chest cavity as I turned around again. No matter how loud my instincts screamed inside my head, I took a step toward the source of the sound.

The screeching came again, this time intermittently. While walking, my right hand, which was slightly shaking, slipped into my handbag, looking for my cell phone.

My steps stopped hesitantly in front of a dark alley that might be the source of the sound. Now the screams had stopped completely and returned to leaving silence.

I squinted my eyes toward the dark alley, hoping to see more clearly. This alley is not very big, just like the alleys in horror films where Jack the Ripper comes out of the dark with his bloody knife after butchering his victims.

Hands still a little shaky, my fingers dialed 911, then out of the corner of my eye I could see a shadow moving in the darkness.

"Hello?" Suddenly a man's voice echoed in the alley, almost making me drop my phone from my hand in surprise.

I looked up at the silhouette of a man walking toward me. This time I followed my instincts, my feet stepping back a few meters.

He was wearing a white shirt with a black leather jacket and jeans. What is clear is that he does not look like Jack the Ripper.

"Are you okay?" asked the man with a small smile. The smile on his face looked a little strange, so I stepped back again.

"What sound is that?" I asked in a slightly panicked voice. My heart was pounding so fast I could almost hear it pounding in my ears.

The man stopped a few feet in front of me right under the street light, the light shining on his face clearly.

His slightly long black hair touched the collar of his shirt. His two awkward black eyes stared at me. He fell into the handsome category.

Or very handsome if we met under normal circumstances.

But there was something odd—something wrong with him. The man smiled again when he saw the expression on my face.

"What sound did you hear?" He tilted his head to the right slightly, his deep voice almost pleasant.

Like the voice of a rented Santa Claus who is usually displayed in malls to take pictures and give Christmas gifts to children.

It's just that this one sounds a hundred times more dangerous than Santa Claus's voice.

My mouth opens to answer him, then I close it again. If he's a killer, then telling him isn't a good idea. My hand gripped my phone tightly.

"Ummm, I think I heard wrong." I muttered while getting ready to turn around.

"Wait a minute, Miss." The voice sounded commanding as it called out to me, making me back rooted to the spot.

"Is someone following you?" he asked in a worried tone as he glanced behind me.

On reflex, my head turned behind me too to look, but there was nothing there.

"Ah, I think I saw wrong." Suddenly the voice sounded so close that it made my heart jump in my chest. When I turned back, he was right in front of me.

"Tsk. Sweet miss, I'm a little sorry to hurt you." He said it in a lazy voice before grinning slightly, a pair of fangs showing from behind his lips.

His hands moved as my mouth opened to scream. And in just one second, his warm and wet lips touched my neck.

A pair of sharp fangs tore through the skin of my neck very painfully. My mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out of me.

The last thing I remember was the bright light from the streetlights and the horrible sound of loud gulping.

***

(6 months later)

"I've asked Oliver to book a plane ticket for you, Eleanor." Mr. Newman's voice sounded final. I could only look at my manager with a look of despair.

"But sir, I really can't-"

"You are one of the best auditors in this company. You should be happy because I consider you one of the best employees here." Mr. Newman shifted his gaze to the documents on his desk, a gesture to gently shoo me out of his office.

I stood up from my chair quietly. However I'm not going to do something as childish as begging Mr. Newman again. One time is enough.

Without looking at him again I walked out of his room and walked over to Oliver's desk.

Oliver Sheldon Wright is my ex-boyfriend and assistant manager at the accounting firm where I work. I remember the first time I met him, when I was an intern and Oliver was a junior accountant.

I never thought I really loved this man, before his mistress came to my apartment and slapped me.

The damn thing. You son of a bitch!

I clenched my fists tightly then stopped in front of the assistant manager's desk. Oliver was focused on staring at his computer screen, a few strands of his light brown hair fell onto his wrinkled forehead, then he slowly looked up at me and smiled a little.

"Can I help you, Els?"

Els. He always calls me by that annoying name when we're dating.

"Mr. Newman said you handled my plane ticket." I tried to force my voice to sound as neutral as possible.

We have ended our relationship more than 6 months ago, although I still want to punch him in the face every time I see him but I have to act professional in the office.

He took an envelope from his desk drawer and handed it to me, still smiling. "Sorry, Els. Actually Mr. Newman asked me to go but I couldn't, so you had to fill in for me. Well, have fun, I heard there's going to be a big festival in Manhattan."

I stared at him in disbelief. He just stared back at me with his annoying smile.

His brown eyes stared at me, as if waiting for me to react. I resisted the urge to throw the porcelain vase in front of me at his face then turned towards his desk while muttering a thank you.

I won't be childish anymore. Oliver's words, after I told him about the woman who came to my apartment and slapped me, came back to me.

'You're overdramatizing, Els. Don't be childish.'

I opened the envelope in my hand angrily. It contained two tickets and a hotel reservation, my eyes stared at the departure date and destination; Manhattan.

I hate Manhattan.

I put the ticket back in the envelope and took a deep breath. As an auditor, I actually don't mind business trips like this.

It's just that usually Mr. Newman sends a team, if he only sends one auditor like this then his work will surely suck. This kind of work will usually take at least 2 weeks. Depends on the size of the company to be audited.

I exhale my breath again, I hate to go alone. Exactly since 6 months ago I hate when I have to be alone. My mind returns to that night, the streets are deserted and the sound of screams of pain suddenly breaks the silence.

The fine hairs on my neck stood up again. Even though I don't really remember the man's face, I still remember his voice. And I remember those strange black eyes.

My stomach hurts when I think about it again. I can't remember what happened after the man approached her, but strangely I woke up the next day in my apartment as usual.

The only signs that made me sure it wasn't a dream were only two red spots and bruises on my neck, until now the wounds haven't completely disappeared.

Of course I reported it to the police, but they didn't find any bodies or missing persons report so they stopped the investigation.

"Ella, do you want to join us for lunch?" a voice broke my thoughts.

I looked up at Christine who was standing in front of my desk with my wallet in her arms, her hands busy typing something on her cell phone. One corner of his mouth tugged at the end of his blond hair.

"Oh, okay." I replied before picking up my wallet and walking next to him. Christine shoved her cell phone back into her pocket.

"Mr. Newman assigned you alone?" asked Christine suddenly. I groaned at his question.

"Ouch. I thought he would give that to Oliver." he continued. We stopped in front of the elevator.

"It was supposed to be like that, but Oliver threw it at me." I replied while folding my arms across my chest. "I don't even know who the client is yet."

"You don't know? Shaw&Partner. I heard Mr. Newman and Paul talking about it. They themselves refused to send a team and asked for an auditor. I think Shaw&Partner wants to do a covert audit." Christine replied while shrugging her shoulders.

I groan again. "Is the company big?" I asked as I stepped into the empty elevator.

Christine turned to me with a frown, "You don't know Shaw&Partner?"

Well, I'm only familiar with the names of banks and financial companies, so I shook my head at him.

She rolled her eyes "You should watch the news more. Are you sure you haven't heard of Nicholas Shaw? Gregory Shaw?"

I shook my head again.

"Of course, I forgot your taste is Oliver's class." Christine grumbled "He and his brother are lawyers. They founded Shaw&Partner. They've taken off in the last few years, now Nicholas and Gregory Shaw are the highest paid lawyers. You should read their interview in GQ magazine. Oh my God."

"Are they that good?"

"Maybe. But they're both so..." Christine paused, as if searching for the right words, "So yummy."

My forehead furrowed slightly at his description. Yummy sounds disgusting to me.

"But you have to stay away from Nicholas Shaw. Some tabloids say he's gay. He's never been seen with women. Very different from his brother, Gregory." She continued.

I rolled my eyes when I heard that, I never cared about someone's sexual preference, besides I most likely wouldn't meet them.

Auditors will only deal with financial managers and the like. Not boss. And I really don't care if this client is insanely good looking, a job is a job.

One thing I knew for sure, the job waiting for me in Manhattan was going to be a pain