CHLOE’S POV
"Can you show me to Brooks Street please?," a voice echoed from behind, its baritone timbre sending ripples through the still morning air. I swiveled around, my heels clicking against the concrete pavement. A man towered over me, his frame a silhouette against the breaking dawn.
His skin was a rich, dark hue, a striking canvas that seemed to absorb the sparse morning light. His presence was imposing, disconcertingly so, casting an ominous shadow that made the hair at the back of my neck stand on end. But I dismissed the unease, blaming it on my overactive imagination. I had a critical early meeting, and time was slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.
"Take a right and then a left," I gestured with my hands, pointing down the path that led to Brooks Street. His ins
