Loving the Cold CEO

*** Ayana's Pov New York was drowning in rain. The glass towers were drenched, and so was I as I ran through the streets. The black, strapless haute couture gown I had worn to the gala a few hours ago was tattered at the edges, destroyed by my own hand so that I could escape. The city's heartbeat echoed beneath my bare feet as I pushed my body beyond its limits. With my Louboutins hanging in my left hand, I pressed my right into my ribs. Everything hurt so bad, but I knew better than to stop, and the sound of a man's voice- distant and furious-echoing down my avenue reminded me of the nightmare I was in. Keep moving, Ayana.... don't stop. Your life depends on it... The sound of my labored breathing filled my ears, shallow and uneven. It felt like I'd been breathing like this for hours, maybe days. It feels like my whole life has been a single, held breath, waiting for this night to come... A flash of a billboard caught my eye, the sight of my own face- larger than life, making my steps stutter. I knew that campaign well. Knew it like the back of my own hand. There I was, thirty stories high, perfect, polished, and untouchable, gaze scorching with an unnamed emotion, and with lips parted in the practiced promise of desire. My makeup had been perfect - dark winged liner, mascara, brown and pink lipstick combo that matched the light blush on my cheeks, and the brown bottle poised on my arm like I could hold light itself. My hair was curly and wet, flowing down to the small of my back. It was one of the few times I had ever worn my natural hair to a photo shoot without having to fight tooth and nail to be allowed to do so. And it had everything to do with the campaign's owner... ECLIPSE by Prion The words beneath my photo glowed white through the rain. Where shadow breathes against light. I moved forward wordlessly, staring at the woman on the billboard. She smelled like cedar, storm, and control. She had hidden all her bruises, her scars, and her pain behind the perfectly crafted facade. A facade I now detested with every fiber of my being. A laugh, low and cracked, escaped me, gradually shifting into a sob. That girl never begged, bled, or ran. She was never desperate enough to be seen. Lightning flashed, and for a heartbeat, I saw myself reflected in the glass storefront below the ad. Mascara bleeding down my face, split lip, bruised knuckles, fear widening my hazel eyes. The two versions seemed to blur before me: one luminous, the other human. The sound of a revving car engine behind me broke me out of the trance as tires hissed on puddles. I turned slowly, the sight of the headlights slicing through the rain sending a fresh wave of fear through me. The car was slow, almost too slow to be random. Move, Ayana. You have to keep going... My instincts were screaming, begging my body to hold on. I took off, fast, not allowing my mind to catch up to the burst of adrenaline that pumped through my veins. The rain thickened with every step I took, the metallic taste of fear on my tongue. My phone began to buzz again in my trench pocket, sending a shiver down my spine as it vibrated against my hip. I didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was. With trembling hands, I pulled it out, flinging it into the main street. The glass shattered in a small flash of light. I felt nothing if not slight relief to not have to hear the buzzing sound any longer. Any modicum of peace was welcome. He might have been using it to track me...he's capable of far worse, let alone that... I kept moving, finding the strength to keep going. My feet carried me down one block, then another. I went past shuttered cafés, the scent of wet asphalt and perfume trailing in my wake. It was like my body knew exactly where to go, and I chose to trust it as I passed quiet residential streets of the Upper East Side, the city's roar fading with every step I took. I followed memory more than a map. The path to Ha Joon's door lived somewhere in my bones and I would never forget it, not for as long as I lived. My soul will always remember... always.... The truth written in my being manifested before my very eyes as I stood now before that very door, soaked and trembling. I hesitated, glancing momentarily at my disheveled appearance. I had never let him see beyond my perfectly crafted persona. No one was allowed to see who I truly was when the layers were peeled back. Liar. You know he sees more than you could know... but he has certainly never seen me like this... The thought was daunting but every reservation I beheld was replaced with the familiar chill of terror as a car slowed behind me, its headlights sweeping the vicinity of where I stood. Men's voices, low and searching, pierced the night air as one of them laughed. The sound crawled up my spine, pushing me forward before I could think twice again. They're still looking for me... I am not out of danger, not yet... With my heart beating so hard, it hurt, I ascended the steps of the brownstone before me. The house was dark except for a faint strip of light beneath the door. My fingers trembled as I hovered over the doorbell. If I do this, there's no going back...nothing will ever be the same again... I pressed the doorbell, the sound lost in the storm that was growing outside. The door opened a breath later and there he was. Ha Joon Hattori stood before me, the chandelier light behind him breaking around his shoulders. His bow tie was gone, the three buttons of his dress shirt open. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing intricately tattooed arms. His face was the same, elegant and unreadable, but his eyes were different as they widened slightly whilst assessing me from head to toe as he always did. He's so much like Aimi when he does that... I knew what he saw- the split lip, bruised cheek and neck, bloodied knuckles, torn dress. And the monster I always knew he was hiding, the one who always lurked just beneath his skin, was there in his darkened eyes. And he wanted blood. "Ayana," His voice was soft. The kind of softness that frightened the hell out of me. "Who did this to you?" My lips parted, but no sound came, my words tangled with the panic that still clawed at my lungs, begging to come out. He stepped aside, hand hovering just above my arm without touching it. "Come in," I crossed the threshold, leaving a trail of rain behind me. I hadn't realized just how soaked I was until that moment. The warmth of the house hit me hard, making me realize just how cold I truly was in every way possible. The air inside smelled like him: black amber, bergamot and smoked sandalwood with a whisper of leather and rain, a scent that clung to the man before me. He's wearing it....the private collection... My thoughts were interrupted by the chattering of my teeth. I didn't realize how badly I was shaking until his warm hand settled in my own, as he tried to calm me down. The adrenaline I had been running on was gone, replaced with complete exhaustion. "I'm soaking your floors..." I voiced the first thought I could latch onto, watching as the man before me tried to gauge just how fractured my mind was. Our exchange was interrupted by the flash of headlights, the sight and sound of the slowly passing car making me flinch. The shadows seemed to shift before us, something or someone definitely lurking behind them. Ha Joon's expression hardened, though he said nothing as he reached past me and closed the door. The latch clicked in place, sealing my choice. We stood there for a long moment, saying nothing as both of us seemed to process the night's events. "I didn't know where else to go," I whispered, startled by my honesty. His gaze softened for a moment, breaking the indecipherable look he always beheld. "I told you once, Ayana. You will always have somewhere." My heart stuttered in my chest as I drank him in. The lines of restraint were drawn tight across his face, but his eyes were already distant, calculating. He took a slow breath before reaching for his phone, and dialing a number. His voice was low, deep and steady. "Watashidesu. Tōri o akete kudasai," "Its me. Clear the streets," The words hung in the air, harmless enough by themselves and yet heavy enough to leave the room charged. I wasn't surprised by his power and how he commanded it. What he had shown me was simply a tip of the iceberg. I always knew... I just never wanted to believe it...but no more running... Ha Joon ended the call without waiting for a reply before pocketing his phone. Something in his gaze had shifted when he turned to me once more. The hardness was gone, replaced with something I could not name. "Sit. You're safe now." He murmured gently, gesturing for us to enter the living room. I turned to move, but my body had other plans as my knees gave out from under me. Ha Joon's arms wrapped around me in a flash, keeping me safely in his embrace and away from the hard wood floors. My vision blurred, my body trying to shut down no matter how hard I tried to stay awake. "You're safe now," He murmured against my forehead, his voice a thread of calm against the storm raging outside. "No one will touch you again, tsuki. I'll protect you, even if it ruins me..." I shudder at his words as the storm fades, the world growing silent as it always does when I'm with him. I believed him with every fiber of my being. And I know he'll burn them all...just for me.... ***