I said Yes to a MAFIA KING

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, or any incidents are products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This story may not be reproduced in any material form or transmitted to any persons without permission from the author. "The Mafia King Wants Me" is a tale of love, danger, and the unexpected twists of fate that can change a life forever. As Helena navigates the treacherous waters of the mafia world, she must confront her feelings for Draven Thorn and the reality of her new life. Will she be able to save her grandmother and find a way to survive in a world where loyalty is tested and danger lurks at every turn? Only time will tell in this gripping story of love and survival. CHAPTER 1: THE train Helena steps off the bus in New Liberty, she takes a moment to breathe. "Okay, breathe, Helena. You can do this," she whispers to herself, recalling her father's advice. The mission is clear: get to New York, pick up the grand, and do it all for Grandma. But as she steels herself for the task ahead, she can't shake the feeling that danger is lurking just around the corner. the heart of New York City, where the skyline pierces the heavens and shadows lurk in every alley, a young woman named Helena Cole finds herself on a perilous journey. With her grandmother's health hanging in the balance, Helena must navigate the treacherous world of the mafia to secure a life-saving grand for her beloved relative. The stakes are high, and the clock is ticking A Dangerous Encounter Helena's instincts prove correct when she unexpectedly crosses paths with Draven Thorn, the notorious head of the Thorn family. Known for his ruthless reputation, Draven is a man who commands fear and respect in equal measure. As Helena witnesses the chaos surrounding him, she realizes that she has stumbled into a world far more dangerous than she ever imagined. "Thorns here! Draven f*****g Thorn!" someone shouts, and panic ensues. Helena's heart races as she realizes the gravity of the situation.we have to go!" she urges, but the chaos is overwhelming. A Twist of Fate In a shocking turn of events, Helena finds herself face-to-face with Draven, who is bleeding and in desperate need of help. Despite the danger, her instincts kick in, and she rushes to his side. "Let me help you... oh god!" she exclaims, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Draven, however, is not just a wounded man; he is a force of nature. "Everyone wants me dead," he mutters, but Helena's determination to save him shines through. "No, no, don't move. You're going to bleed out if you keep moving," she insists, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. As helena tends to Draven's wounds, an unexpected bond begins to form. "What are you doing? Get off me!" he protests, but there’s a hint of something deeper in his eyes. "Not a chance, sweetheart," he replies,pulling her closer in a moment that defies the danger surrounding them. "Is this your way of saying thank you?" Helena asks incredulously, realizing the absurdity of the situation. "Look, I said, you're mine now," Draven declares, his possessiveness both alarming and intriguing. Just as Helena begins to process the whirlwind of emotions, the reality of her situation crashes down on her. "I'm married, and my husband is not someone you're going to want to mess with," she warns, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. Draven's laughter echoes in the chaos, a sound that sends shivers down her spine. "Yeah... who's the lucky bastard?" he taunts, but Helena knows that her husband, a man of power and influence, is not to be trifled with. "Draven Thorn? The Draven Thorn?" she gasps, realizing the magnitude of the man. she is entangled with. As the dust settles, Helena finds herself thrust into a world she never wanted to be a part of. "Nice to meet you. I'm your husband," Draven says, his tone shifting to one of authority. "The one that owns Manhattan." The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, and Helena realizes that her life will never be the same. "Mrs. Thorn, how are you?" he asks, a smirk playing on his lips. In that moment, Helena understands that she is now part of a dangerous game, one that could cost her everything. chapter 2: the step mom "Okay, I lied," Helena admitted, her voice trembling. "I'm not married... but— Please, just let me go." "No," the Mafia king replied, voice cold as steel. "You're mine now." "Are you out of your mind? Are you insane? I don't even know who you are! I should've let you bleed out!" A metallic voice interrupted, echoing through the train car: "Attention passengers. We are now arriving at East Bridge Station. Please take all your belongings with you before exiting the train." Helena’s thoughts raced. —I need to get off here. —And get Dad’s money. —Grandma needs me. Suddenly, she slapped him—hard. "Jack!" one of the men shouted. "Boss, she slapped you!" "She can't get away with that," another growled. But the king only smirked. "She's Mrs. Thorn now. She's my wife." "What? What are you talking about?" "Wife!" he repeated, eyes never leaving Helena. "And don't you dare lay a finger on her." "She's just some chick off the train!" "You don't understand," the boss said, voice low. "She’s got fire. That passion—I need that. Find out everything about her in twenty-four hours. Go it? "copy that. let's get out of here." Cole Mansion "Mom, Dad—be honest," Olivia Cole, Helena’s sister, said, twirling in her new dress. "Gorgeous, right? Two hundred grand, straight from Paris." "Beautiful, sweetheart," their father, Richard Cole, replied. "Absolutely stunning," Miranda, their stepmother, added. "Our baby could wear a trash bag and make it look couture." Helena stood awkwardly at the doorway. "Helena? What are you doing here?" Miranda sneered. "The farm girl crawled all the way uptown. What's the emergency this time? Run out of chicken feed?" "I just need the money for Grandma’s surgery," Helena said quietly. Richard Cole’s face hardened. "$200,000? Are you out of your mind? Absolutely not!" Helena’s voice shook but she pressed on. "This house, your company—every luxury you have came from Mom’s trust fund. When she died, you brought them here and dumped me and Grandma. All I’m asking for is $200,000. That’s nothing compared to what you took." Miranda rolled her eyes. "Did you come all the way here to guilt-trip us? You and that old hag aren’t worth a dime of my big toe!" Helena’s fists clenched. "Just give me the money and you’ll never see me again, you plastic w***e!" "What? You little trash!" Miranda lunged, but Richard stepped between them. "Ladies! Let’s take it down a notch," he said, forcing a smile. "Helena, nice to see you. I said I’d help and I will. Business has just been a little tight, that’s all. Stick around a few days, I’ll get you the check. We’re all family." He turned to Olivia. "Show your sister her room, huh?" As they left, Miranda whispered, "You’re not really going to give her the money, right?" Richard shook his head. "You remember Mr. Brown? He’s ready to drop a couple million into our company. We just need to keep Helena under our roof." Miranda’s eyes sparkled. "Wait, Mr. Brown... isn’t he the one who can’t stop staring at our daughter’s legs?" "That’s the one," Richard said. "He’ll cut the check—as soon as Helena marries him." Miranda laughed, kissing Richard’s cheek. "So the farm girl gets useful, and the rich get richer. I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out that check comes with a wedding ring—and an old p*****t. chapter 3: Langford Hotel This is the maid's room. You'll be staying here, sister. Starving and homeless. Perfect... Grandmother is calling... Grandmother: Sweetheart! You make it to Dad’s okay? Everything alright? Helena: Hey, Grandma. Yeah... Yeah, everything’s... everything’s good. Dad gave me the money. He’s throwing me a big dinner tonight. I’m staying here for a few days, but I’ll see you soon. Grandmother: Took that bastard long enough to show some heart. Alright then. Have fun and stay safe, honey. I love you. Helena: I love you too. (Call ended) Okay, don’t panic, Helena. Put it together. Two days to get the money. I’ll do whatever it takes! --- (Thorn drinks alcohol)Jack (Thorn’s man): Boss, we found her. Miss Cole’s at the Langford Hotel. Draven Thorn: And... and what? Jack: She’s working as a cleaner. Draven Thorn: You’re telling me my girl is scrubbing floors? Where are you going? Jack: Boss... Draven Thorn: I’m going to the Langford Hotel. --- (Langford Hotel. Helena is cleaning the floor.)Vaness (Hotel Manager): So you’re the country girl—from England? Helena: Yes, ma’am. Vaness: Grab your things. You’re done here. Helena: What? Why? Vaness: Look at you: those thrift-store kicks, that bird’s nest hair, that smell... This is a five-star hotel, not a trailer park. Yeah, you bet. She looks like Taylor Swift from Temu. Look at you—dollar store Daisy, duck trying to play big city. Helena: You can mock me all you want. But you can’t mock someone for working hard. At least I work for what I’ve got! Vaness: Big talk for a janitor. If you still have that attitude after this... (Suddenly, the doors burst open. Draven Thorn enters.) Jack: It’s Mr. Thorn! Vaness: Move!! Draven Thorn: You just couldn’t wait to fall into my arms. Helena: You again? Draven Thorn: You gonna let them walk all over you just like that? Did you tell them?Helena: Tell them what, exactly? Draven Thorn: That I’m your husband. That you’re married to Draven Thorn. Vaness (shocked): What? She’s married to Mr. Thorn? Draven Thorn: You know what your biggest mistake was? You touched my girl. Draven (to Jack): Jack! This hand, right here? The one that shoved Miss Cole? Vaness: Stop! What are you doing? Mr. Thorn, please! We’re sorry! We really didn’t know she was your wife. I’m so sorry, please! This is all just an accident.Helena: Draven, this is my problem, not yours. Let me face it on my own. Draven Thorn: Yeah, well, your problems are my problems now. Draven (to Vaness): The Langford’s treating their own like that? Perhaps it’s time for a change in ownership. Jack: Give him the down check... Draven Thorn: Fifty million. A down payment. Vaness: B-but, Mr. Thorn... Draven Thorn: Sign the contract. And the extra five million? Consider it a tip. Now, do we have an understanding? (Real estate acquisition agreement slides across the desk. Vaness signs, trembling.) Jack: The whole place—it’s yours now. Helena: I don’t want your hotel! Stop fighting what’s already begun. From that day, you saved me. That’s the day you got into my life, into my world. And now you’re part of it. Helena: I want to earn my own life, not steal it. I have my own path, Draven. Draven Thorn: Mrs. Thorn, from here on out, this is your hotel. From now on, you control the shots here. Jack: So, Mrs. Thorn, what are you gonna do next? Draven Thorn: Helena Cole? chapter 4: Thorn’s Proposal “Where are you running to?” Thorn’s voice echoed behind her. Helena spun around, startled. “What are you doing?” she demanded, pushing Thorn away. “Easy, girl. You don’t want to run from me.” Thorn’s tone was calm, almost teasing. “This city belongs to me. See the street down there? Every single building... it’s all mine. Even the tower west of Central Park.” Helena crossed her arms. “And what does that have to do with me?” “Marry me,” Thorn said, stepping closer. “Half of my future will be yours. The trust, the island in Tahiti—everything. All yours.” She shook her head. “I don’t want any of that, Draven. I want you.” Draven moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her neck. “Looks like you do,” he whispered, pulling her closer and capturing her lips in a kiss. “No! Stop!” Helena protested, trying to pull away. “Don’t go any further!” Draven’s grip tightened as he pushed her gently onto the bed. “Your body’s begging me not to stop,” he murmured. “What do you want?” she whispered. “You, Helena.” His hand trailed down her stomach, his touch electric. “Feel that?” he asked softly. “Want to know what else I can do? Marry me, Helena. I’ll make every heartbeat feel like this.” He kissed her again, deep and lingering. “Rule number one, Mrs. Thorn,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t ever lie to your husband in his bedroom.” --- chapter 5: Owen’s Proposal “So, what was it?” Draven asked, watching her closely. “Was it good enough?” Helena pulled away. “Mr. Thorn... Draven, please, let me go. I’ve never... you know...” Draven silenced her with another kiss. “You don’t like me?” She shook her head. “I don’t even like you.” He smirked. “Give me enough time, sweetheart, and you’ll be crazy about me. But for tonight, we’ll stop right here.” He knelt at her feet, pulling out a small velvet box. “Marry me, Helena,” he said, opening it to reveal a dazzling ring. “I’ll take care of your grandmother’s surgery.” Helena’s eyes widened. “You’ve been spying on me?” “A man in my position needs to make sure that what he possesses is safe,” Draven replied. “Just say yes.” “You think you can buy people with money? You’re sick, you know that?” Helena’s voice trembled. “People try to bribe me with money, s*x, fame... none of that matters. But you’re different. You’re the only one I really want,” Draven admitted. “I told you, I’m engaged.” He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, to me.” “No. To someone else.” “Seriously? To whom?” “That’s none of your business.” “Can he keep you safe the way I can? Can he give you a life where you never have to worry again? Give me your hand. Can he make you feel this way?” “I told you, that’s none of your business.” Draven’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got one day, sweetheart. Twenty-four hours to say goodbye to your fiancé.” He stood, motioning to the door. “You can go.” --- “Helena! Helena!” She turned to see Owen, her boyfriend, rushing toward her. “Babe, what are you doing here?” Owen asked, concern etched on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me about your grandmother’s surgery?” Helena hesitated. “Owen...” “I thought we were supposed to face everything together, right?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black card. “It’s not much. There’s a hundred grand on it. Please, just take it.” Helena accepted the card, her heart swelling with emotion. Owen had always been her hero. When they were kids, he’d saved her from a wolf during a hunting trip. Now, he was saving her grandmother too. She’d always known... he was the one. Owen knelt before her, holding out a ring. “Will you marry me, Helena? Please, just say yes.” Tears filled her eyes. “I do! I do!” Owen’s face lit up. “Holy s**t! Oh my god! You said yes! Baby, I’m going to make this so special. Music, church, the whole shebang. Yeah!” Suddenly, a sleek car pulled up. Draven’s face appeared in the open window. “Mr. Thorn! Nice to see you here,” Owen called, trying to hide his surprise. Draven’s eyes flickered between them. “Here. Some pocket money,” he said, tossing something from the car before speeding away. *part:6 the missing groom Jack: “I’ll be damned, boss... that Helena girl’s got steel in her spine. You slap ten million in her hand and she doesn’t even blink. Not a damn flinch.” Draven: “Doesn’t matter.” His eyes didn’t leave the window. Cold. “She’ll fall in love with me. Not today. But she will.” He crushed his cigarette, slow. “Start prepping the wedding.” A pause. Then, quieter. Deadlier. “Tomorrow... she becomes Mrs. thorn.” The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns on the cream-colored walls of the bridal suite. Helena Cole stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror, her hands trembling as she adjusted the pearl earrings Olivia had insisted she wear. Her heart pounded in her chest, a wild drumbeat of anticipation and dread. "Mr. Brown, this is Helena," Olivia announced, her voice slicing through the nervous silence. Mr. Brown, a man with a broad, ruddy face and a smile that never quite reached his eyes, looked Helena up and down. "Pretty face! Nice body!" he declared, his gaze lingering a moment too long. Helena felt a chill crawl down her spine. She forced a polite smile, glancing at Olivia for support, but her stepmother only beamed with pride. "Her mother must have been a stunner!" Mr. Brown added, chuckling as if he’d made a clever joke. Helena’s cheeks flushed. She wanted to shrink away, to disappear into the folds of her wedding gown. But she stood her ground, determined not to let this man—her supposed future—see her fear. Owen... Where was Owen? The thought of him steadied her, if only for a moment. Mr. Brown’s hand slid around her waist, squeezing her in a way that made her skin crawl. "Don’t worry about Owen, sweetheart," he whispered. "He’s just one of Richard’s business partners. Don’t overthink it." Helena tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. She forced herself to breathe, to focus on the promise of escape once the ceremony was over. "Then we’re all set, Mr. Brown," Richard Cole announced, clapping his hands together. "Tomorrow, everything is going to be perfect. Mr. and Mrs. Cole—Helena and I—we’re getting married tomorrow." "Wonderful! Congratulations! We’re so happy for you both," Olivia chimed in, her eyes glittering with triumph. "Congratulations, Helena," Olivia repeated, her voice icy. "I guess that makes us family now." Helena’s stomach twisted. Why did everyone feel... off? Why did her wedding day feel like a cage closing around her, rather than a door opening to her future? My fresh start. My forever, she reminded herself, trying to summon hope. Outside, she caught sight of a group of men in dark suits. Thorn’s men, she realized with a jolt. Draven Thorn—her father’s most dangerous associate. She’d heard he was getting married today as well, somewhere in the same lavish hotel. "Those are Thorn’s men," she whispered to Olivia. "I heard he booked this place for a wedding later today too," Olivia replied, barely glancing up from her phone. "What... Draven Thorn? He’s getting married? To whom?" Olivia shrugged. "How the hell should I know? Guys like that don’t exactly send save-the-dates to people like us." Helena’s anxiety mounted. "Dad, where’s Owen?" Richard Cole smiled, his eyes cold. "Don’t worry, sweetheart. You found yourself a good guy. You made your old man proud." "Yeah," Olivia said, her tone mocking. "You get to be a rich girl for real." Helena’s breath caught as she saw Mr. Brown approaching, his suit straining over his broad shoulders. "Look, there he is—the groom!" "What? Mr. Brown?" Helena’s voice trembled. "What’s he doing here?" Mr. Brown grinned, holding up a document. "I’m the groom, Helena. That’s my name right there on the marriage license." She stared at the paper, her world tilting. "Marriage license. No... No..." Panic surged through her. She fumbled for her phone, dialing Owen’s number with shaking hands. "Owen! Where are you? I’ve been standing here waiting for you," she pleaded, her voice breaking. His voicemail answered, calm and distant. "Hey, it’s Owen. Can’t talk right now. Leave me a message." Tears pricked her eyes. "He said he wanted to marry me. He promised me. Where is he? Why isn’t he here?" Olivia’s voice cut through her despair. "Oh honey, wake up! That broke boy is long gone." Mr. Brown stepped closer, his smile predatory. "Mr. Brown owns a construction company. You should be on your knees, thanking us," Olivia sneered. "No! I’m not marrying him! I don’t care who he is!" Helena shouted, her voice echoing off the marble floors. She tried to run, but Mr. Brown blocked her path, his hand clamping down on her arm. "Easy, sugar. Marry me, and I’ll make sure you’re riding high every day," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Let go of me, you creep!" Helena screamed, twisting in his grasp. "I like ‘em feisty," Mr. Brown laughed, nodding to his bodyguard. "Grab her!" Strong arms seized her, pinning her in place. Helena fought, kicking and clawing, but Olivia stepped forward, her eyes cold and hard. "Stop fighting, Helena," Olivia snapped, striking her across the head. Pain exploded behind Helena’s eyes, and the room spun. "This wedding’s always been for you and Brown," Richard said, his voice devoid of warmth. "What? No..." Helena’s voice faded as darkness closed in. Her dreams of love, of freedom, shattered around her like glass. -**Chapter 7: Thorn’s the Other Groom** The room felt colder now, as if Helena’s pleas had sucked the warmth from the air. Her wrists were sore from the iron grip of Mr. Brown’s bodyguard, and her heart pounded with panic and rage. The faces around her blurred—olivia’s triumphant smirk, Richard’s stone-cold glare, miranda's bored indifference. She felt like a lamb surrounded by wolves. “No need to be gentle,” Olivia said, her voice dripping with malice as she watched Helena struggle. “She’s a wild one, needs a little… taming.” Richard’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Relax. I know just how to break a wild horse like her.” He stepped closer, his presence looming. “You always thought you were better than us, Helena. But you’re not. You’re just another pawn.” Helena’s chest heaved. “f**k you!” she spat, her voice raw. “Dad! How could you do this to me? I’m your daughter!” Richard’s eyes flashed with contempt. “Don’t call me Dad. Olivia is my real daughter. You just came for the money, remember? For Mabel.” His words were ice, each syllable a fresh wound. “Just marry him, and bada bing, bada boom, the money is yours. Stop being a dead weight in my life. You never… belonged to this family.” The words hit Helena harder than any slap. She stared at the man she once called father, searching for any warmth, any hint of love. But there was nothing—just cold, hard ambition. “You are marrying up, sweetheart. Just be grateful!” Olivia chimed in, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Yeah,” Miranda added, barely looking up from her phone, as if Helena’s suffering was just background noise. Helena’s vision blurred with tears. “Get off!” she screamed, twisting with every ounce of strength she had left. For a moment, she broke free, stumbling toward the door, but the bodyguard caught her again, pinning her arms behind her back. “Let me go!” she cried, her voice echoing through the hall. But no one came to help. No one cared. --- **Thorn’s Mansion** The rain battered the windows of Draven Thorn’s study, the storm outside a mirror to the tempest brewing inside him. He stood by the window, watching the lightning split the sky, his mind restless. Jack, his loyal bodyguard, entered quietly, his face set in grim lines. “Boss, Miss Cole’s getting married. Right now.” Draven turned, his eyes sharp and dangerous. “What? To whom?” Jack’s jaw tightened. “Her f*****g dad sold her to some crusty bastard twice her age. Mr. Brown. The ceremony’s happening at the Cole estate.” A muscle twitched in Draven’s jaw. He slammed his fist onto the desk, sending a stack of papers flying. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice low and lethal. He reached for his g*n, checking the magazine with steady hands. “Born of these cockroaches are dead.” He turned to his men, who had gathered at the doorway, their faces tense. “All night, guys. Let’s gear up. Anybody who gets in our way is dead meat.” “Yes, boss,” Jack said, already pulling out his phone to coordinate with the rest of the crew. Draven’s mind flashed with memories of Helena—her stubbornness, her laughter, the way she’d challenged him without fear. He’d admired her fire, her refusal to be tamed. Now, the thought of her being forced into a marriage, her spirit crushed by those who should have protected her, filled him with cold fury. He holstered his weapon and strode out of the room, barking orders. “Get the cars ready. Full gear. We move in ten.” His men sprang into action, checking weapons, loading ammunition, pulling on bulletproof vests. The tension was electric—every man knew what was at stake. As Draven climbed into the armored SUV, rain pounding on the roof, he made a silent vow: **No one would hurt Helena Cole. Not while he was still breathing.** Chapter 8: THORN MADE OF IT* The chapel reeked of lilies and desperation. Helena Cole’s wrists were raw from fighting. Her white dress was stained pink with her own blood. And Mr. Brown’s sausage fingers were crushing hers, trying to force a diamond ring past her knuckle. “Feisty little thing, huh?” Randy Brown panted, his breath sour with whiskey and cigars. His other hand clamped around her waist. “Doesn’t matter. You’re mine!” “Get your filthy hands off me!” Helena thrashed, kicking his shin with her heel. “I would never marry you in a million years!” Brown’s face twisted. He backhanded her. Not hard enough to knock her out—just enough to make her ears ring. “Oh, for God’s sake, just shut the f**k up, would you?” Olivia, her stepmother, hovered nearby, wringing her hands but not helping. “Mr. Thorn’s gonna have his own wedding here soon. If we don’t get this show on the road, you’re gonna get us all buried here, Randy!” Helena’s father, Richard, finally spoke. But not to save her. “Helena! For once in your life, stop being so f*****g selfish! Put the ring on!” “Selfish?” Helena laughed, and it sounded broken. “You sold me!” Brown grinned, pressing the ring harder against her finger. Bone ground against metal. “Yeah, you do like trying to play rough, huh? Oh yeah? Let’s see how long that lasts.” “Wear the damn ring!” he snarled, using both hands now, forcing it down. Helena screamed. _BANG._ The stained-glass windows rattled. Every head snapped toward the entrance. Silence. Then footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Expensive. *Draven Thorn* walked in like he owned the air. Black suit. Black shirt. No tie. A scar cutting through his left eyebrow. Behind him, six men in black suits spread out, hands inside their jackets._Bodyguards. Or soldiers. Same thing._ “Thorn,” Brown choked out. Helena’s lips parted. Her vision was still blurry from Olivia’s vase, but she’d know that silhouette anywhere. _The man from the news. The man from her nightmares. The Mafia King of manhattan._ “Draven?” she whispered. Draven’s gaze found Brown’s hands first. Still on Helena. Still forcing the ring. His eyes went flat. Dead. “Touch her again,” Draven said, voice soft enough to be a prayer, “and I’ll paint these walls with your blood.” Olivia actually gasped. Then, because she was Olivia, she whispered, “Holy s**t… he’s smoking hot.” Brown stumbled back, releasing Helena so fast she collapsed to her knees. He raised both palms, placating. “S-Sorry! We’ll be done here in a minute, Mr. Thorn. Just a family—” “Wait, Mr. Thorn—” Draven moved. He didn’t run. He didn’t rush. He just _was_ there. One second beside the pew, the next, his fist was buried in Richard Cole’s face. _CRACK._ Richard hit the altar and didn’t get up. “Richard!” Olivia shrieked, scrambling toward her husband. “Shut up,” Draven said without looking at her. Brown tried to salvage it. He bowed, sweating through his suit. “Mr. Thorn! Such an honor, sir. We didn’t know you—” Draven punched him in the stomach. No warning. No speech. Just a precise, brutal hook that folded the older man in half. Brown wheezed, collapsing to the marble. “G-Gahh—” “Thank God I got there in time,” Draven muttered, crouching in front of Helena. His hands—clean, calloused, dangerous—cupped her face with impossible gentleness. He thumbed blood off her cheek. “You’re safe now.” “Draven…” Helena couldn’t breathe. _Why? How?_ “Hey.” His forehead touched hers. Just for a second. Just enough to steal her panic. “I got you.” Behind them, Jack—Draven’s right-hand man—hauled