Chapter 4

Third Person’s POV

The morning sunlight from a nearby window woke up the injured mob boss. 

Phoenix’s vision adjusted to his surroundings and he abruptly attempted to sit only to fall back down after a sharp sting from his side. He looked at his bandaged wound and groaned in pain.

“Ah, you’re awake,” the familiar voice of the woman from last night spoke behind him. He turned around to get a proper look at her face.

The girl was smiling while he scrutinized her under his sharp gaze.

She’s pale and petite, looks pretty harmless with her doe eyes that would deceive most people because of her ‘innocence’—but not him. He remembered most of the bits and pieces he heard from the call last night and had his guard up.

Meanwhile, Clover was just relieved that he is conscious now. She really didn’t want to have to bury a dead body.

“Don’t move around and stay in your place,” she told him in concern but Phoenix heard it differently… he thinks she’s warning him to not make any move.

“You have a pretty bad wound,” she points out.

Phoenix was ignoring her and scanned the small room instead. The old wallpaper on the wall… the shabby furniture and raggedy equipment… 

‘A perfect place to hold me hostage,’ he thinks.

In reality, Clover is just broke and struggling.

She sighed, realizing that he refuses to acknowledge her properly. “Guess you want to do this the hard way,” she says and sits on the creaking table in front of him.

Phoenix thinks it was a threat. But really, she’s just being kind.

He watched her closely and decided to play along with her little act for the meantime. She must’ve kept him alive for a reason, right? He needs to know why and where he is so he can make his move.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” he asked.

“Uhm…” Clover looks up at the ceiling, thinking about it before meeting his eyes. “You can leave anytime you want, for your safety… I guess.” She smiled.

In her head, Clover thinks her problem is solved now: he can walk on his own to leave and since she saved him, she thought he’ll be grateful enough and spare her life—if he truly was part of the mafia.

On the other hand, Phoenix is confused.

For his safety, she says? Was she mocking him? Was she going rogue from her gang? Is it a trap? His untrusting attitude remains very skeptical of her and misunderstands her every word.

“Won’t your boss be pissed off if you let me go?” he questions.

This time, Clover was confused.

“I think it’s best that you two don’t meet. After last night, well… I don’t think he’d be glad to meet you,” she shrugs, not minding her words.

Clover was just thinking about how she will definitely be scolded if her boss meets the man who bled out in his truck, most likely earning him a visit from the local health department soon. 

However, her statement just made his suspicions worse.

‘So the guy I killed last night has a superior who is still after me?’ Phoenix assumes.

He looks at her keenly and goes straight to the point, “Are you keeping me alive as a bargaining chip?”

Clover blinked at him and tilted her head. “Huh?” 

Bargaining chip, he says? Like a favor? She paused and decided to be honest, “Well, I was hoping you won’t harm me after I saved you.”

“You want a deal?” he responds.

She stares at him and replies, unsure, “Maybe?”

Just like he thought—predictable. She wants something in return.

Except, Clover just really meant to end things peacefully and go on with her life... a pathetic, struggling life of a broke college dropout on her way to her nth unemployment; yet still better than actual crime, right?

But the problem is it’s hard to communicate between two people who live very different lives.

She was unassuming of danger, naive to the dark side of things; while he’s too accustomed to the dark side of things, only ever knowing danger.

Phoenix pretends to agree and then asks, “Can I borrow your phone first?”

At this point, Clover was seriously considering that she was mistaken. He seems cold and has a temper but pretty normal. Maybe he isn’t a criminal, after all. Perhaps he simply got caught up in the gunfire last night.

Should she ask? But what if it triggers him? She can probably take him down with that injury, right?

In the end, she decides it’s not worth the risk. If he truly were part of a syndicate, it’ll be hard to defeat him even injured.

So she gives it to him, “Here.”

Her friend also told her to be careful and wait until they get there. That might be her best option right now.

Meanwhile, Phoenix had a different plan.

He gave a missed call to his crew’s number so they could trace his location before returning her the phone to prevent her from noticing.

When Clover took the device back, she felt how hot his temperature was. Catching him off guard, she instantly feels his forehead with her palm.

“You’re burning up,” she says, worried.

He pushed her hand away instinctively, thinking it was an attack. “Don’t touch me,” he glares.

She retracts her hand and crosses her arm over his chest, “You’re being rude.”

He squinted his eyes at her weird behavior. This woman is odd—he muses. At that second, he re-evaluated his perception of her. He decided to test it. He stood up and walked to her window while her eyes followed him.

“I think I’m allowed to be rude after you kidnapped me,” Phoenix deadpans, walking around her place.

Clover gaped at him. “Wha—” Her jaw dropped and she exclaimed, “Why does everyone think I abduct people all the time?! It was a misunderstanding! Do I seriously look like a kidnapper?”

Phoenix halted. There’s nothing that divides her living room and dirty kitchen. He silently inspects her things.

“You said it last night,” he told her nonchalantly.

By now, she was stomping towards him with a frown. “You misheard me!”

He turned around and saw her hands on her hips. “I didn’t kidnap you, I treated your wound and things just became what they are. I’m still thinking you’re involved with the event last night!”

So she witnessed what went down yesterday?

He observed her. Phoenix can’t wrap his head around the concept of genuine kindness and he is sure she has other intentions.

“You’re a strange one,” he comments.

“Because I didn’t leave you to die?” she replied with a huff.

He tilted his head and gave her a blank stare. “Because you expect me to believe you saved me out of the goodness of your heart.”

She sighs and looks at him with exhaustion. “I’m not playing a saint here, I just didn’t have it in me to leave a person for dead.”

“You’re telling me that you just happened to be the dumbest Good Samaritan in town?” he asked.

Clover pouted and mumbled, “I wouldn’t use the word dumb to call it, you know…”

While Phoenix was deciding her true nature, they were suddenly interrupted by the noise outside.

Sirens—police sirens.

He slowly looks at her with disbelief.

Clover watched the way his face became murderous.

“I didn’t call them!” She raised her hands in panic.

But that moment was all the confirmation he needed.

With one swift move of his arm, he grabs a nearby knife and wraps his hand around her neck, slightly lifting her off the ground.

Phoenix leaned forward and snarled at her.

“Tell me who sent you… or I’ll make sure you never open that pretty mouth again.”