chapter 7
2124 Words
Third Person Pov
Rain hammered against the city like sheets of falling glass, the kind of storm that drenched New York in a restless, shimmering gloom. By the time Ana finished visiting the restaurant, her shoes were damp, and the cold breeze sank under her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself, more out of habit than warmth.
Alex offered her dinner before leaving. She refused, but he insisted with a firm tone that allowed no argument, and eventually she agreed. Dinner was warm, delicious, and unexpectedly comfortable. But as soon as they stepped out, the rain had worsened.
“I have to do some shopping,” she told him, her voice soft yet determined.
Alex frowned. Who in their right mind would go shopping in a storm this furious and at night? But he didn’t stop her. Something in her eyes told him she had already made up her mind. He greeted her good night and walked back to his car, irritated curling inside him.
"This girl… impossible."
Meanwhile, Ana walked toward the nearest mall, her footsteps splashing through shallow puddles. She bought raincoats, umbrellas, blankets, and some food packets—more items than she had planned. On her way out, she tightened the grip on the shopping bags and stepped into the night, letting the rain fall heavily on her shoulders.
The storm was unkind, but her heart wasn’t.
---
Alex was about to leave when he remembered something he needed to confirm with the restaurant manager. The discussion took nearly half an hour. By the time he exited, the sky looked darker, the roads crowded with vehicles struggling through the flood-like streets.
Traffic in New York was always bad, but tonight it was a battlefield of honking horns and slow-moving headlights. Alex sighed. It would take nearly two hours to reach his main penthouse, so he decided to stay in an apartment he had bought nearby.
But as he sat in the car, waiting for the traffic to move, his eyes drifted outside the window.
And then he froze.
Under the flickering streetlights, a girl was handing out blankets, food packets, raincoats, and umbrellas to street children and elderly people sitting helplessly on the sidewalks. She was soaked, holding an umbrella in one hand, bags in the other.
Her face turned slightly toward the passing headlights.
Ana.
His heartbeat stilled.
She moved from one group to another, her hair clinging to her face, her clothes nearly transparent under the rain. She was shivering but continued offering whatever she had bought. Children clung to the blankets she gave them, old women blessed her with trembling hands.
Alex’s chest constricted in a way he didn’t expect.
*What is she doing out here alone? And in this storm?*
He had never seen someone give away everything so selflessly—especially a woman who barely had enough for herself.
After giving away everything she had purchased, Ana began walking toward the bus stop. The wind pushed against her, making the rain sting harder. On the way, she noticed an elderly woman selling roses to the cars passing by.
But no one stopped.
No one rolled down their window.
No one cared.
The old lady’s hands trembled. Her clothes stuck to her frail body, completely soaked. Yet she didn’t stop smiling, didn’t stop offering roses to uninterested strangers.
Ana’s heart twisted.
“These rich people…” she murmured under her breath. “At least buy one rose.”
The sight hurt her. She walked to the old woman and bought **all the roses**, handing over every last dollar she had in her purse.
“Thank you, child. May God bless you,” the woman whispered, her eyes gleaming with gratitude.
“You deserve to go home early,” Ana told her gently.
When she realized the lady didn’t have an umbrella, she hesitated for only a second before offering hers.
“Take it,” Ana insisted.
The old woman blessed her again and slowly walked away, protected under the shared shelter.
Now Ana had no umbrella.
She pulled her jacket over her head and trudged forward through the rain. By the time she reached the bus stop, she was dripping, cold, and exhausted.
Some girls waiting for the bus glanced at the roses in her hand.
“You want these?” Ana asked softly.
They nodded eagerly.
She handed the entire bouquet to them, smiling faintly.
Then she checked her purse.
Empty.
Reality struck her like a blow.
She had given all her money away.
Even her phone battery had died. She had no way to call Jen. No taxi money. No umbrella. No energy left.
She would have to walk home.
And so she did—slowly, step by step, her legs trembling, her breath shaky. The rain felt heavier now, like the sky itself was pushing her down. She leaned against a wall for support, her head spinning, nausea twisting her stomach.
Her vision blurred.
Her knees weakened.
She collapsed sideways—
But didn’t hit the ground.
---
He had parked his car minutes earlier and rushed toward her.
“How can she be so careless?” he muttered angrily. “She had money… yet she gave every cent away.”
Her kindness infuriated him.
Her innocence terrified him.
There was no one helping her now.
But *he* was there.
She was about to faint, her eyes half-closed, her body swaying when he caught her in his arms.
“Ana!” he called, tapping her cheek gently.
She was completely unconscious.
He dropped his umbrella, but a kind woman nearby picked it up for him and held it over both of them. Alex nodded gratefully, lifted Ana into his arms bridal-style, and carried her to his car.
She felt weightless yet precious.
Inside the car, he buckled her in carefully, brushed her wet hair away from her face, and whispered, “What am I going to do with you?”
He thanked the woman and drove toward his nearby apartment, glancing at Ana every few seconds. Her skin was ice-cold. She shivered violently, and her white shirt clung to her like a second skin.
Alex's jaw tightened.
"Focus on driving. Not on her."
But the way she unconsciously curled toward him, the way her small hand gripped his jacket, the way her soft breaths hitched—every little thing made something inside him twist painfully.
---
The staff in the lobby stared in open shock.
Mr. Alexander Black King carrying a woman?
That had never happened.
He ignored everyone and entered the elevator, holding Ana close to his chest. Her face nuzzled into his shirt, her arms curling instinctively around his neck.
His breathing hitched.
Her warmth seeped through him, making him clench his jaw to maintain control.
By the time he reached his penthouse floor, the storm inside him was almost as strong as the storm outside.
He entered his room—the only unlocked room—and laid her gently on the bed. She immediately grabbed his collar even in her sleep.
He removed her hand with effort.
Her fever was burning hot. Her clothes were soaked. If he didn’t change her, her condition would worsen.
He turned off the lights.
Without looking directly at her, he changed her into his oversized black shirt—one that reached her mid-thigh. His fingers brushed her skin several times, and each accidental touch sent a jolt through him.
" Cold shower. Now."
After cleaning up, he returned to give her medicine and wrapped her in warm blankets. Only when she was resting peacefully did he finally lie down on the right side of the bed, exhaustion pulling him into sleep.
In the middle of the night, a soft whimper jolted him awake.
“Please… don’t leave me… please… I’ll be a good girl…”
Ana was crying, her hands clutching the sheets, her face twisted in fear.
Alex rushed to her side.
“Hey… it’s alright,” he whispered, touching her shoulder gently. “I’m here.”
She didn’t wake but continued sobbing, lost in her nightmare.
“I won’t leave you,” he said firmly. “I promise.”
Her breathing slowed.
“Promise?” she whispered, her voice small, like a vulnerable child.
“Yes. Promise.”
And then—unexpectedly—she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. She tucked her head against his chest, her legs curling instinctively.
Alex’s eyes widened.
He had never let any woman touch him like this. No one except his mother and sister had been this close.
Yet with Ana…
He didn’t pull away.
He didn’t want to.
He held her protectively and drifted into sleep with her cuddled against him.
---
NEXT MORNING
His phone rang. He shifted slightly—and felt a warm weight on his chest.
Ana.
Her face was peaceful, almost angelic. Her eyelashes brushed her cheeks, and her lips… God, her lips looked too soft, too inviting.
His heart thudded painfully.
Every girl in his life had drooled over him.
But she… didn’t even give him a second glance.
It was infuriating.
And charming.
And dangerous.
He gently freed himself from her arms and went to the bathroom.
Ana opened her eyes slowly.
This wasn’t her room.
Panic rose inside her like a wave.
She sat up sharply, dizzy and weak. Her heart pounded. “Where am I?”
Just then, Alex entered with a shopping bag in hand.
“Good afternoon,” he said calmly. “How are you feeling?”
“Afternoon?” Ana blinked. “Wait—what? How did I get here?”
“You fainted on the road. I saw you and brought you here.”
She looked down at herself—at his shirt.
Her face is drained of color.
“Who changed me?” she whispered, mortified.
“I did,” he said honestly. “You were soaked and burning with fever. I turned off the lights. I didn’t look.”
Her shock turned into anger.
“How could you change me without my consent? You should’ve left me—”
His eyes sharpened.
“What did you expect me to do?” he snapped. “Leave you unconscious in the rain? Is that what you wanted?”
Ana flinched.
“My parents raised me with manners,” he continued, voice low and cold. “I don’t take advantage of women. Ever.”
Guilt stabbed her.
“I—I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I woke up confused… I overreacted… Thank you. Truly.”
He didn’t respond.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“One o'clock.”
Her eyes widened. “I have a client meeting at 2:30! I don’t have clothes, money, anything—”
“I bought you clothes,” he said, handing her the bag.
“And I’ll drop you at your workplace.”
She nodded silently and went to get ready.
They left at 2:15 PM. The silence in the car was thick, heavy with unspoken emotions.
Before stepping out, she whispered, “Thank you… for everything. And I’m sorry again.”
He didn’t reply.
She reached for the door.
“Take leave for the rest of the week,” he said suddenly.
She turned, confused.
“We’ll meet on Monday. We have things to discuss.”
Then he drove away without another word.
Ana stood there, her chest aching.
Everyone she cared about always left.
No one stayed.
Except Jen.
People helped only when they wanted something. She had learned that the hard way. Maybe that was why she reacted so defensively.
She continued her work quietly, went home, cleaned, cooked, and laughed with Jen as if nothing had happened.
Thank God Jen didn’t know. She would have lectured Ana for hours.
Days passed.
Jen, Fin, and Ana planned a girls’ night. Ana rarely partied—she spent her life saving money, working, and chasing her goals.
When Fin arrived, she hugged Ana tightly.
Ana froze like a statue.
Fin pulled back, laughing. “Jen was right about you.”
“What did she say?” Ana asked, confused.
“That you need to socialize. To loosen up. You act like hugging is a crime.”
Jen nodded. “She works 24/7. She needs to change.”
Ana sighed. “I’m happy the way I am. I don’t need to change.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Fin smirked, pulling her to the sofa, “tonight we’re going to make you realize everything you’ve been missing.”
And just like that, her lecture began.
Ana rolled her eyes—but deep down, somewhere she barely admitted…
There *was* one person she couldn’t stop thinking about.
And he was the man she least expected.
- Writer
