Unshattered Beginnings
The buzzing of her phone startled Sarah Whitmore out of her agitated reverie. She knew what the screen would say as she gazed at it. Another rejection.
"We appreciate your application, but we must tell you—"
The rest she didn't have to read. Sarah hid her face in her hands and threw her phone on the coffee table. The surrounding flat appeared to get smaller, its leaky ceiling and peeling wallpaper mocking her suffering. This was her life now: just enough money to keep the lights on, no job prospects, and three months late on rent.
Her voice faltered as she muttered to herself, "Sarah, pull it together." But when every door she knocked on slammed shut in her face, it was difficult to pull herself together.
She was surprised by the knock on her flat door. Hope briefly wavered; perhaps her landlord was finally granting an extension. However, she froze when she opened the door.
Before her loomed a man in a dark suit, his face calculating and icy. Two stout men stood like statues behind him, their presence oppressive.
The man said in a glass-cutting tone, "Sarah Whitmore?"
"Yes?" She spoke in a little voice.
An envelope was held out by the man. "You've received service."
Her hands were shaking when she accepted the envelope. A huge amount she had never incurred was requested to be paid in a note within. Her eyes welled up with tears, and the words became hazy.
Her voice cracked as she uttered, "There must be some mistake." "I owe no one any money."
"I don't care about that," the man stated. "We'll take further action if you don't pay within seven days."
Sarah leaned against the door and banged it shut as the men left, her heart racing. The notification was a harsh reminder of how far she had fallen, and it felt heavy in her hands.
She was unsure of where to go. Her so-called friends vanished the moment her life took a turn for the worse, and her parents had died years before. She felt completely and agonizingly alone.
But fate stepped in that night as she wandered the dark streets looking for comfort.
The alley had a damp concrete smell and was dark. Sarah held her battered jacket firmly around her, keeping her head down. It was too late for her to notice the two men.
One of them scowled and stepped in front of her, saying, "Hey there, sweetheart."
Sarah's heartbeat accelerated. "I want no trouble at all."
"Is something wrong? The second man's smile was predatory as he said, "We're just here to chat."
One of them took hold of her arm before she could respond. She struggled in vain against their strength, but panic swept through her.
"Give me a break!" The alley was empty as she screamed.
The tension was broken by a low, authoritative voice. "I think the woman asked you to release her."
A stranger entered the alley, and the three of them froze. Wearing a fitted black suit, he looked towering and commanding. His chiseled jaw and piercing gray eyes were highlighted by the streetlight's reflection of his face's precise planes.
The men looked at each other uneasily. Although his voice faltered, one of them added, "This isn't your business, buddy."
"Now it is," the man said calmly.
The following few seconds flew by. The stranger rendered her assailants helpless with a speed that left Sarah gasping for air. Muttering insults, they ran away, leaving Sarah shaking and gazing at her improbable savior.
"Are you hurt?" he said in a quiet, steady voice.
"I am... Even though her legs felt like jelly, she mumbled, "I'm fine."
She paused before accepting the hand he held out to her. His touch was unexpectedly warm, and his grip was tight.
Then she managed to inquire, "Who are you?"
Simply, he said, "Dominic."
She muttered, "Thank you, Dominic," but the whirlpool of feelings roiling inside her was too strong for gratitude.
His eyes were impenetrable as he scrutinized her. "Take extra care. The weak are not treated with kindness in this city.
Sarah was left alone again as he turned and left without a word.
Sarah couldn't get Dominic out of her mind that night as she lay awake in her run-down apartment. He had come out of nowhere, and his icy exterior was a cover for something more sinister. Although she was unaware of it at the time, their futures were now inextricably linked.
Someone was also observing from the shadows, staring at Sarah with icy ferocity.
