Three years after Hogwarts, running into Draco Malfoy in Muggle London was the last thing you expected—and the one thing you couldn’t escape. He’s darker now, richer, and far more possessive than the rival you once knew, watching you like something unfinished between you still belongs to him. Some grudges fade with time, but whatever burns between you and Draco Malfoy only grew sharper.

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Rain lashed against the grimy windows of The Rusty Nail, each drop a dull drumbeat against the din of low voices and clinking glasses. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap perfume, a distinctly Muggle haven that had become a refuge for those who wanted to be anonymous.

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