HIS SWEETEST DECEPTION

--- CHAPTER 1: THE BODYGUARD WHO LIED 2 AM. I was running in the rain in Brooklyn, New York. No umbrella. No shoes. My feet were bleeding. My face was bruised. My phone was broken. "AMARA! COME BACK HERE! YOU'RE MINE!" Jake. My ex. The man I loved for 3 years. The man who beat me for 3 years too. I hid under the Brooklyn Bridge. I was shaking. I was crying. I had nowhere to go. I had no money. I had no family in New York. My sister Sofia was in Los Angeles. Then, a black SUV stopped in front of me. A man got out. Tall. Around 6'1. Wearing a black t-shirt soaked in rain. He had a tattoo on his arm. But his eyes were not scary. They were soft. "Miss, are you okay?" he asked. "Don't come near me!" I screamed. "Leave me alone!" "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, slowly kneeling in front of me, in the rain. "My name is Kian. Your friend sent me. She said you might need help." He took off his jacket and put it on my shoulders. His jacket smelled like rain and coffee. Safe. For the first time in 3 years, I felt safe. "Come with me," he said. "I have a small apartment in Queens. You can stay there. No rent. No questions. Just rest." I should have said no. I should have run. A stranger in the middle of the night in New York? That's how girls disappear. But I said yes. Because his hand, when he held mine, was warm. And Jake's hand, when he held mine, was always cold. That night, in his small apartment in Queens, Kian cooked me tomato soup and grilled cheese. He bandaged my feet. He gave me his hoodie to wear. He slept on the couch while I slept on the bed. "Sleep, Amara," he whispered from the couch. "No one will hurt you here. I promise. I will protect you." And I believed him. DAY 1 WITH KIAN. The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee and pancakes. Kian was in the kitchen, wearing an apron. An apron. A man with tattoos, wearing an apron with a small flower on it. "Good morning," he said, smiling. "I made you breakfast. Eat. You need strength." "Why are you helping me?" I asked. "Because your friend Sofia asked me to," he said. "She said you're her sister's friend. And she said you need a bodyguard." "Bodyguard? I can't pay a bodyguard. I have no job. Jake got me fired. He told my boss in Manhattan that I stole money. He told everyone I was crazy." Kian stopped cooking. He looked at me. His eyes turned dark for a second. Just a second. Then soft again. "Then I'll be free," he said. "I'll protect you for free. Until you're safe. Until you're strong again. Deal?" I nodded. "Deal." What I didn't know was that while I was eating his pancakes, Kian's phone was vibrating in his pocket. A message from a man named Rico: Don Dante, mission complete. Jake did what you told him to do. Amara is now with you. Should we kill Jake now? And Kian, or should I say Dante Villacorte, typed back with one hand while smiling at me with the other: Not yet. Let him live a little longer. I want Amara to hate him more first. So she'll love me more. DAY 30 WITH KIAN. One month passed. Kian became my everything. He taught me how to lock the door three times. He taught me how to walk without looking back. He taught me how to cook. He taught me how to laugh again. Every night, he made me hot chocolate. Every morning, he made me breakfast. Every time I had a nightmare about Jake, he would sit beside my bed and hold my hand until I fell asleep again. "Kian," I said one night, while we were sitting on the rooftop, looking at the lights of New York City. "Why are you so good to me?" He looked at me. He didn't smile. He looked serious. "Because, Amara," he said. "I saw you once. Two years ago. In a coffee shop in Manhattan. You were drawing. You were smiling. You were happy. And I said to myself, I want that girl. I want her smile." "And then?" I asked. "And then I found out you had a boyfriend. Jake. And Jake was hurting you. So I... I had to do something." "What did you do?" He paused. He looked away. He took a deep breath. "I made Jake lose his job. I made your boss fire you. I sent Jake the photos of you with another man. Fake photos. I made him jealous. I made him beat you. So you would leave him. So you would run to me." The world stopped. "What did you say?" I whispered. "Amara, listen to me," he said, holding my face. "I did it because I love you. I love you so much that I couldn't watch you stay with a man who didn't deserve you. I had to destroy your life so I could rebuild it. With me." I pushed him away. I stood up. I was shaking. Not because of Jake anymore. Because of him. "You... you destroyed me? You got me fired? You made Jake beat me?" "Yes," he said, tears in his eyes. Tears. The Mafia Don was crying. "But I did it because I love you. Amara, I love you more than anyone. Jake only loved your body. I love your soul. I will never hit you. I will never leave you. I will protect you forever." I ran. I ran down the stairs. I ran out of the building. I ran into the rain again. But this time, when I looked back, it wasn't Jake who was chasing me. It was Kian. It was Dante Villacorte. The Don. The man who ruined me. The man who saved me. The man I loved. And he was screaming, "AMARA! I LIED TO PROTECT YOU! PLEASE, COME BACK! IF YOU LEAVE ME, I WILL BURN THIS WHOLE CITY TO FIND YOU!" And for the first time, I didn't know who I was more afraid of. Jake, who hit me. Or Kian, who loved me so much he destroyed me to have me.