My Walking Danger

The room was spacious and quiet. Ariel sat on the edge of the bed with her knees drawn up, staring at the locked door, wondering how three weeks could feel like three years. A woman she had never seen before stepped inside carrying a folded set of clothes, placed them on the dresser, and left without a word. Ariel waited until the footsteps faded before rising. She crossed the room and looked at what had been left for her. Exactly as she expected: thin fabric, a short hem, a neckline cut far too low. The skirt would barely reach her thighs. She opened the wardrobe instead. Most of the clothes inside belonged to someone else—older, larger, clearly not meant for her, but she searched until she found a pair of baggy dark pants and a plain grey hoodie. She changed quickly, tightening the drawstring around her waist and pulling the hoodie over her head. The sleeves fell past her hands. She looked almost ridiculous, but at least she felt covered. She sat back down on the bed. The memory came without warning. Three weeks earlier, she had still been living in the small house at the edge of town. Her grandfather had called her into the front room, where a tall, middle-aged man who introduced himself as Harlord was waiting. Her grandfather had not met her eyes. “You’ll go with him.” Ariel had stared at him, certain she had misheard. She had cried and begged him to send the man away. When they reached for her, she bolted through the back door and across the yard, barefoot and terrified, heading straight for the trees. She had almost made it to the road when they caught her. That was the last time she had seen her home. The double doors burst open, and Harlord stood in the doorway, his eyes moving from her to the untouched clothes on the dresser. “You’re seriously wearing that? I told you to get ready. We have a meeting.” “I’m not going.” The words came out quieter than she intended, but she did not take them back. Harlord stepped inside and closed the door. “That isn’t up to you.” Ariel’s fingers curled inside the sleeves of the hoodie. “I don’t want to sit in those rooms while you talk business. You’re almost my father’s age. Send me back home.” She shoved past him and burst into the hallway. Her bare feet slapped against the floor as she raced toward the stairs. She made it halfway down before an arm wrapped around her waist from behind and lifted her clean off the steps. She kicked and twisted. “Let me go!” Another man appeared at the bottom of the stairs, blocking the only path out. They carried her back up while she struggled. By the time they reached the room, Harlord was already waiting, smirking. “Put her down. And if you try that again, the door stays locked for a week. No food and no light. Clear?” He turned to his men. “Get her to the car. We’re already late.” One of them took her arm, and they led her downstairs and out through the front door, where a black car waited in the driveway. She was guided into the back seat. Harlord got in beside her. As the car pulled away, Ariel turned her face toward the window and watched the city lights blur across the glass. The car stopped in front of a large private building with dark windows and tight security. One of Harlord’s men opened her door and waited until she stepped onto the pavement. Inside, the air smelled of expensive cologne and polished wood. Men in dark clothes stood near the walls, speaking in low voices. No one looked surprised to see Harlord, but several pairs of eyes followed Ariel. He placed a hand on the small of her back and steered her toward a wide set of doors at the end of the hall. They had taken only a few steps when a man leaning against the wall looked at her. “Well, Harlord. You’ve been keeping yourself busy tonight. This one’s young for you. Did you spend the night with her, or did you bring her along to make the rest of us jealous?” Harlord gave him a warning look. “Watch yourself, Marco. She’s not here for your entertainment.” Marco chuckled. “Relax. I was joking.” The moment Harlord opened the doors, a sharp, metallic edge in the air hit her at once. When she opened her eyes, she was met with a lounge larger than she had expected. A long bar ran along one wall. Most of them looked up, but one barely lifted his head. On the desk in front of him sat a nameplate: Jay Sterling. It was the only name in the room. Clearly, it was his space. Jay sat in a low armchair near the far side, one arm resting along the back. Even seated, he looked taller than she expected, broad-shouldered and dressed entirely in black. A woman with long brown hair and a tight red dress sat close beside him, her hand resting on his knee. When she leaned in and whispered near his ear, he barely reacted. And she smiled anyway, clearly accustomed to receiving attention even when she was given very little in return. Harlord walked straight toward them, while Ariel stayed half a step behind. “Sterling. Or should I say Jay.” Jay’s gaze moved from Harlord to Ariel. His eyes settled on her oversized hoodie, the baggy pants, the sleeves pulled over her hands, then returned to her face. “You’re late,” his voice came out deep and unhurried. Harlord gave a small shrug. “Traffic. This is Ariel, she's here with me.” Jay’s gaze lingered a second longer before he looked away. “Then keep her out of the business.” Ariel did not know why that irritated her, but it did. “I wasn’t planning to be involved in your business anyway.” The woman beside him gave a small laugh. “She’s got an attitude.” Ariel turned toward her. “And you have a very loud voice for someone who wasn’t part of the conversation.” Across the room, Marco let out a low whistle. The woman's face tightened with confusion. “Jay—” The look he gave her cut the rest of the sentence short. Lina pressed her lips together and leaned back. Harlord pulled out a chair and drew Ariel down beside him. Jay flexed his hands and nodded briefly. “Let’s get to it.” The conversation began at once, numbers, shipments, names she did not recognize. Lina kept trying to reclaim his attention, leaning closer, laughing a little too loudly at things that were not funny. And Jay answered with short replies or nothing at all. Ariel, however, was beginning to dislike Jay almost as much as she disliked the man sitting beside her. She kept staring at the table and counted the minutes by the sound of ice shifting in someone’s glass. The meeting stretched longer than she expected. Every so often, she felt Jay’s gaze settle on her for a second too long before moving away again. Then one of the men across the table leaned back and let his eyes rest on Ariel in a slow, open, and unmistakably interested manner. She shifted slightly, turning her face further away. The man smirked and murmured something under his breath to the person beside him, and whatever he said made the other man glance at her as well. Jay’s voice cut through the room. “Is there a problem?” The man looked over, still half-smiling. “Just appreciating the view. Harlord brought something pretty into a room like this. People are going to notice.” Jay’s hand moved closer to the gun at his side. “That means she is not yours to look at. What does not belong to you will never be yours. You would do well to remember that.” The man let out a short, humorless laugh, and instead of looking away, he reached toward Ariel. His hand had barely moved when Jay acted with complete certainty. A sharp sound cut through the air, and the man dropped back into his chair, a hole through his forehead. Ariel’s hands clenched so tightly inside the sleeves of her hoodie that her nails dug into her palms. She could not look away from the empty space where he had been. Jay sat back down as if the interruption had been minor. “Does anyone else have something they want to say?” Harlord’s hand closed around her upper arm. “We’re leaving.” She did not resist when he pulled her to her feet, and she kept her eyes down as they walked past the silent men and out of the lounge. His men opened the back door of the car and waited until she was inside before Harlord followed. “Stay away from Jay Sterling,” he said the moment the engine started. “I saw how he looked at you, and how you looked back after he dealt with that man. Do not ask him for help. Jay does not interfere in matters that are not his. If you go to him hoping he will take you from me, you will be disappointed. At best he will ignore you. At worst he will decide you are a problem and handle you accordingly. Clear?” Ariel kept her eyes on the glass. “I wasn’t going to ask him for anything.” “Good. Keep it that way.” ✿✿✿ Across the city, the lounge had emptied. Jay stood by the windows, looking out over the lights. Lina stepped closer and rested her hands on his chest. “You didn’t have to do that in front of everyone. It unsettled people. You allow your men to look at me however they please, yet you shot a man for looking at that girl the wrong way. Am I not important enough, Mr. Sterling?” Jay glanced down at her hands, then met her eyes. “And who are you to question me? You choose how you dress. I have no interest in anything that is not entirely mine, especially half-owned property.” She rose onto her toes, trying to reach him, but he turned his head at the last moment, and her lips brushed only his jaw. Lina forced a smile, clenching her fist. Jay turned to one of his men near the door. “His people will want an explanation. And they can want whatever they like. So, you handle them. Because he looked at something that wasn’t his and opened his mouth, and that was enough.” Victor gave a short nod and said nothing more. Lina tried again, her voice lighter. “That girl Harlord brought looked completely out of place, did you see how she was dressed?” Jay’s glass paused briefly. Most women who entered these rooms dressed for attention and smiled when it suited them. This one was young, clearly new to this world. Girls like her did not appear in Harlord’s company without payment. Whatever she was, she remained Harlord’s problem. He finished his drink in one motion, set the glass down, and walked. Victor and Lina followed at a distance. When the car stopped in front of the villa, Jay stepped out and disappeared toward another building with his men. The house stood high above the water, its windows reflecting the city lights. Lina remained outside a moment before entering. She found Jay’s grandfather alone in the formal living room, settled in a high-backed chair, his cane resting against his leg. Andrew gave her an unimpressed look. “I told you to leave hours ago. Why are you back?” Lina offered a polite smile. “I only wished to pay my respects, and to speak about the future. Jay and I—” “There is no future with you. Your arrangement with my grandson is business, nothing more. I want him married, but not to you.” “With time he might—” The cane tapped once against the floor. “You are useful for now, and that's all. When the contract ends, so do you. Leave.” Before she could answer, footsteps raced down the hallway. A five-year-old girl with dark curls burst into the room, laughing, until she saw Lina. “Uh-uh.” She turned and ran back the way she had come. Lina stepped forward. “Mia, wait—” The child’s footsteps faded down the corridor. Jay’s grandfather regarded Lina with open dislike. “Even the child knows. Get out of my house.” Lina stood frozen a second longer, then turned and left. In the hallway, she nearly collided with Jay. Taking the opportunity, she opened her mouth, but he was already walking past her. “Don’t come back here unless I call for you. Take care.”