Cheers to this year—may it be quiet, calm… maybe even mine.

I lifted my glass, ready to drink, when a sudden jolt knocked me forward.

“Ohhh, fuck!” I cursed, spinning around.

A stranger—sharp suit, eyes like he had memorized secrets no one should know. He didn’t apologize. Not a word.

Something about him… felt wrong. Or maybe, terrifyingly right. My pulse skipped.

“Hey, heyyy girl!” Kian snapped, grinning like he owned the night. “Come on, let’s hit the dance floor—it’s New Year!”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, smirking. “It’s the fucking New Year… might as well go wild.”

“Woooohhooo! Let’s go, gurl! What are you waiting for?”

We pushed through the crowd. Lights flashing, bass thumping so hard it rattled my ribs. The air was thick with perfume, sweat, and the tang of champagne. I could barely see, but I didn’t care. I didn’t need to.

There I was—center of it all—spinning, jumping, letting the music devour me.

“Eee gutta ba gasoline na tabbe da gaslina!”

I shouted, lost in the chaos. The night was ours to burn, every second a spark igniting the dark.

Then—

A hand slid around my waist. A sudden pull. My heart skipped.

“Mi luna…” [My Moon]

a voice whispered, low and sharp, slicing through the music. “Be ready. I’m coming to haunt you.”

I froze. That voice. That scent—smoky, sharp, intoxicating. My stomach twisted.

A shiver ran along my spine. A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it.

“Ralph…” I murmured, half curse, half laugh.

“Ralph the ass‑kicking Ivanov.”

I blinked, trying to process him. Glimpses flickered between strobe lights—he moved through the crowd like shadows bent around him. Eyes that saw too much. A grin that promised chaos.

And then… gone.

Vanished.

Only the echo of his voice. The scorch of his cologne. A faint trace of him lingering in the air, impossible to chase, impossible to forget.

The music roared on. The crowd danced on. But I could still feel him, just behind my skin, threading through my nerves.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Maybe the New Year hadn’t begun with me.

Maybe it had begun with him.

And maybe… maybe he had plans that weren’t mine to escape.