Chapter two
990 Words
Lyon
The sirens were getting closer.
Not distant anymore.
Not background noise.
They were loud, sharp, slicing through the night like blades. Red and blue lights reflected off brick walls and broken glass, turning the alley into something unreal like a nightmare painted in flashing colors.
I hated police.
Not because I feared them.
Because they complicated things.
They asked questions.
They wrote reports.
They left trails.
And trails were dangerous in my world.
I looked down at the girl in my arms.
Emily.
She was shaking.
Not the quiet, subtle tremble people tried to hide. This was violent, uncontrollable. The kind that rattled through her bones and told me her body was still trapped in survival mode.
Her fingers were twisted in the front of my jacket like she was holding on to the only solid thing left in her world.
Her face was pale.
Her lips were parted slightly.
Her green eyes were wide, glossy, filled with shock.
Too much for someone so young.
Too much for someone who had only been walking home from work.
I tightened my hold just enough to steady her.
“Hey,” I murmured softly. “Look at me.”
She didn’t respond.
“Emily.”
Slowly, like it took every ounce of strength she had, her gaze lifted to mine.
There it was.
That fire.
Buried beneath fear and exhaustion.
Still alive.
Good.
“You’re safe,” I said quietly. “It’s over.”
Her lips trembled. “I… I shot him.”
“You defended yourself,” I corrected. “There’s a difference.”
She shook her head weakly. “I’ve never… I’ve never even held a gun before tonight.”
I believed her.
Which made what she’d done even more impressive.
And more dangerous.
Sirens wailed louder.
My jaw tightened.
We didn’t have much time.
I glanced toward the street. My men were already in position, shadows slipping between buildings, blocking entrances, erasing evidence. Efficient. Silent.
Family.
Years of training.
Years of blood.
I pulled out my phone.
“Marco,” I said quietly. “Two minutes. Clean and clear.”
“Already on it,” my brother replied. “You good?”
“I am.”
I ended the call.
Emily was watching me now.
Not just reacting.
Observing.
Trying to understand.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
I’d told her my name.
Not my truth.
Not my power.
Not my sins.
“I’m someone who doesn’t let monsters win,” I replied.
She swallowed.
“You were watching, weren’t you?”
Smart.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
Her brows furrowed. “That’s creepy.”
I almost smiled.
“Fair.”
The sirens were nearly on us.
“Emily,” I said firmly, “you need to come with me.”
Her spine straightened instantly.
“No.”
Expected.
“I’m not going anywhere with a stranger who carries guns and watches me without my permission,” she snapped.
Defiant.
Even after everything.
God, she was incredible.
“You’re not safe here,” I replied calmly.
“I’m not safe with you either.”
That one hit harder than it should have.
“They weren’t random,” I said quietly.
She froze.
“What?”
“Those men,” I continued. “They weren’t just looking for someone to hurt.”
“They were sent.”
Silence.
Her face drained of color.
“By who?” she asked.
I hesitated.
Truth could break her.
Lies could kill her.
“By people who won’t stop,” I finally said.
Her breathing quickened.
“So… I’m a target now?”
“Yes.”
Honest.
Always.
She laughed shakily. “Great. Just great.”
Flashback — Two Weeks Earlier
I had noticed her long before tonight.
First time, she spilled coffee on my suit.
Apologized five times.
Blushed.
Refused my tip.
Second time, she stood up to a drunk customer twice her size.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t beg.
Didn’t cry.
She had spine.
Rare in my world.
I started coming back.
Watching.
Learning.
Wanting.
Then my intel told me she was being followed.
And I knew.
She was already in too deep.
Back to Now
“I won’t force you,” I said quietly.
Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t force women,” I continued. “I protect what’s mine.”
She stiffened.
“I’m not yours.”
“Not yet.”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“I’m honest,” I replied. “You deserve that.”
She stared at me like she might punch me.
“You’re insane.”
“Possibly.”
That almost made her laugh.
Almost.
Police lights washed over the street.
Time was up.
“Just tonight,” I said. “Come with me. Let me keep you alive.”
She hesitated.
“I won’t trap you,” I added. “I won’t marry you. I won’t touch you.”
Not without consent.
Not without vows.
Her gaze searched my face.
I didn’t hide.
Finally, she whispered, “One night.”
I nodded.
“My car.”
We walked quickly.
She stumbled once.
I caught her.
She didn’t pull away.
Progress.
As we reached my car, she asked quietly, “Why do you care so much?”
I paused.
Because you’re rare.
Because you’re strong.
Because you changed everything.
“Because you matter,” I said.
She didn’t reply.
I opened the door for her.
Before she climbed in, I leaned close.
“Six months,” I murmured.
She frowned. “What?”
“In six months,” I continued, “you’ll love me.”
She laughed softly. “You’re delusional.”
“Confident.”
“Same thing.”
I smiled.
As she settled into the seat, I looked back at the dark alley.
War was coming.
And she was now in the middle of it.
Whether she liked it or not.
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