Falling For Mr. Ruthless

Lost And Alone

Isla’s POV

It was midnight.

The cold wind bit at my skin as I stared at the pile of my belongings scattered on the sidewalk. The landlady’s shrill voice still echoed in my head.

“You haven’t paid rent in two months! I’m not running a charity for beggers like you!” The landlady yelled.

I barely got a moment to gather my things before she shoved me out. I begged her again, even pleaded for more time but her face stayed stone-cold.

I was—homeless once again, freezing, and completely lost.

I shivered and pulled my thin coat closer as I dragged my suitcase aimlessly down the dark and empty street.

My stomach twisted painfully, not just from hunger, but from the pain of everything that had been building up since my parents’ accident.

I had no family left, no friends who could take me in. I was alone in a city notorious for its crime rate, where just last week, a young woman had been found dead in an alley two blocks from here.

My hands trembled as I clutched the suitcase.

“It’ll be okay, Isla,” I whispered to myself, though I didn’t believe it.

I wandered until I found myself at a small, deserted park. The only light came from a single flickering streetlamp, casting eerie shadows on the bench nearby. I sank down onto it, hugging my knees to my chest.

“Where do I even go?"

It felt surreal, as if any moment I’d wake up back in my tiny apartment, with the comfort of four walls and a roof over my head. But reality was harsh, and the cold breeze reminded me that there was no going back.

Just then, I heard a low murmur of voices. My heart raced as I spotted a group of men staggering down the path. Their voices slurred, carrying that unmistakable edge of drunken aggression.

Panic seized me, and I dropped down, pressing myself against the back of the bench.

“Stay quiet, Isla. Don’t move,” I whispered under my breath, barely daring to breathe.

The men stumbled closer, laughing and cursing. My pulse pounded in my ears as I held my breath, clutching my suitcase with all my strength.

If they saw me…I couldn’t finish the thought. I didn’t want to think about what might happen. I don't want to end as a headline in the crime section of this city.

They passed by and I let out a shaky sigh, slumping back against the cold metal of the bench. The relief was overwhelming, but it was short-lived. I couldn’t stay here. I needed somewhere safe.

A sudden clap of thunder split the sky, startling me from my thoughts. Heavy raindrops began to fall soaking through my thin coat within seconds.

“Of course,” I muttered bitterly, looking up at the dark sky.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, now I was stranded in a thunderstorm. I pulled my suitcase close, shielding it as best I could, though it did little to keep me dry.

The bench wasn’t an option anymore, I needed to find some kind of shelter.

Gathering the last of my strength, I got up, dragging my soaked suitcase behind me as I searched for anywhere that could offer a little protection from the storm.

My shoes splashed in the rising puddles on the pavement, my clothes clinging to me already wet.

As I walked down the dark street, I spotted an old, rundown building with a broken sign hanging above its door. It looked abandoned, but there was an overhang that stretched out just enough to keep me out of the rain.

Thunder rumbled again, and I clutched my suitcase to my chest, huddling against the wall. I was soaked to the bone, my body shivering uncontrollably as the cold crept into my skin.

I thought of my parents, of the life I’d once had, of the warm hugs and gentle words that were now only distant memories. It felt like years had passed since then, even though it had only been a few months.

A tear mixed with the rain streaming down my face and I couldn’t tell where the sadness ended, and the rain began.

The storm had finally subsided sometime in the night. I wandered aimlessly through the streets. I could feel the water pooling in my shoes with each step. I hadn’t slept. I hadn’t eaten. I was running on fumes, driven by the need to just keep moving, as if walking could somehow take me away from this reality.

The traffic light flashed green, and I stepped off the curb to cross the street, glancing both ways out of habit. My mind was foggy. Just a few more steps.

A sudden blinding light filled my vision, and the screech of tires made me froze. The blaring horn pierced my ears as a car hurtled toward me, too fast. I didn’t have time to move or even think.

I felt the air leave my lungs in a painful gasp. My head hit the pavement, and a sharp, searing pain shot through my body before everything went dark.

In the brief moments before I lost consciousness, one thought drifted through my mind.

Is this how it ends?

----

I blinked, trying to focus as my surroundings came into view. My breath hitched. I wasn’t on a park bench anymore. I was lying on an enormous bed in a room unlike anything I’d ever seen before.

The ceiling stretched high above with chandeliers.

Panic jolted through me as I looked around, and my eyes landed on a man standing at my bedside. He was older, perhaps in his fifties. Cradled in his arms was a small, dark-haired toddler who looked barely a year old.

The man offered me a gentle smile. “Are you alright?”

I stared at him, confusion mingling with a rising sense of fear. My throat felt tight as I forced out a response.

“W-Where am I?” My voice sounded small in the cavernous room.

“I apologize for last night,” he let out with a small smile. “You was hit against my car. "

That’s when I noticed the men behind him—three of them, all dressed in crisp black suits, with ties perfectly knotted at their necks. They stood straight and serious, like soldiers or...bodyguards. Their expressions were unreadable, but their presence alone was intimidating.

“I-I’m fine,” I stammered, forcing myself to sit up, though my legs felt weak and unsteady beneath me. Every inch of me ached from the accident, but I was too overwhelmed to think about the pain. All I wanted was to get out of there.

“Let me take you home as an apology,” the man said again, his tone kind but commanding.

I shook my head quickly. “N-No, it’s fine…uncle.”

I wasn’t sure what else to call him.

The man raised an eyebrow, as if assessing me, then asked, “Where were you going with your backpack in the middle of the night?”

His question was gentle, but his gaze was piercing, as though he could see right through me.

I lowered my eyes, a wave of shame washing over me. Where was I going? The truth was, I didn’t know.

“And where will you go now?” he pressed, his tone softening.

Silence filled the room as I clenched my fists, unable to hold back the tears that spilled down my cheeks. I tried to hide them, bowing my head so he couldn’t see just how hopeless I felt.

Finally, I spoke in barely more than a whisper. “I… I have nowhere to go. I’m… homeless. I lost my parents. I don’t have anyone left.” The words hurt as they left my mouth, but the weight of them felt all too real.

The man’s expression softened, and I saw a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. But before he could respond, the child in his arms began to whimper, his tiny face scrunching up as he started to cry. The man shifted the baby, trying to soothe him, but the little one’s cries only grew louder.

I watched the man’s attempts with a pang of curiosity. “Can I…?” I asked hesitantly, holding my arms out toward the baby.

He hesitated, glancing down at me, but after a moment, he nodded and carefully handed the child over. As soon as I cradled him in my arms, the baby’s cries quieted, and his big, curious eyes focused on my face. He had chubby cheeks and a small tuft of dark hair, and he looked at me with a look of fascination that made my heart melt.

“There, there,” I cooed softly, bouncing him gently. His tiny hand reached up and clutched my finger, his wide-eyed gaze fixed on mine. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and I found myself smiling back, lost in the innocence of his gaze.

For just a second, I felt warmth, something I hadn’t felt in so long. It was like a glimpse of a life I’d almost forgotten existed.

The man watched us, his expression a mix of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite place. “You’re good with him,” he said, almost to himself.

I looked up, pulling myself back to reality. “I-I’ve always liked children,” I said softly, brushing a finger gently across the baby’s cheek. “They make you forget things, even if just for a moment.”

The man nodded, his expression thoughtful.

“Well, it seems he likes you, too.” He paused, then added, “Would you like to stay here for a while, Isla? As my grandson's nanny?"