เข้าสู่ระบบDarien’s pov
The Bentley’s engine purred as I drove through the rain-slicked street, and my phone buzzed for the umpteenth time in less than five minutes. I knew it was my mother no doubt, definitely calling to remind me about her ‘wonderful opportunity’ dinner she had arranged next week.
“Don’t think of bailing out on this Darien, you aren’t getting any younger.” Her text appeared on my screen.
I declined her call yet again, I was tired of the constant reminder to get married, I’m just twenty-eight, I still have lots of time to relax and toy with women as much as I wanted, why settle now? Besides, the main reason she wanted me married was to give her grandkids… kids? Those things are evil!
“I hope when you meet her you won’t scare her away like you did the others.” My phone lit up again with my mother’s text.
She had stopped sending me photos or even info of the women she wanted to meet because I always make sure to threaten them to stay away. Rolling my eyes I stared at the light turn yellow and brushed my fingers through my hair. Clicking the accelerator, I was happy I would be getting home soon since I’d had a long day at the company, dealing with a series of meetings for a new construction project I fought hard to get.
I was going to get a bottle of whisky as soon as I got home to relieve my aching body.
Suddenly a Honda Civic went through the red light and slammed into the passenger side of my car.
“Shit!” I cursed.
The impact wasn’t severe, it was more of a rap than a collision but the metal screech on metal made my jaw clench. I pulled over on the curb, adrenaline spiking through my veins as I got out of my car, assessing the damage. The Bentley had custom-made paint and was now ruined, the side mirror hanging at an awkward angle.
Fifty grand in repairs, that should be easy.
Rain soaked my Armani suit as I came out to face who did it… I swear to kill that bastard….
The woman stumbled out of her car looking like she had been through the worst part of war.
She was young, looked like she was in her mid-twenties, maybe. Her dark hair plastered on her face and mascara running down her cheeks. Her clothes were soaked, clinging to her slender figure, it was a simple knee-length dress, her huge brown eyes stared in awe at me devastated as she had just watched her life crumple.
“I’m so sorry, her voice cracked. “I didn't see the light, I wasn’t… I’m so sorry.”
She looked at my car and then hers with a crumpled hood and something in her eyes shifted from devastation to hopelessness.
“I don't have money to pay for this, God I can barely afford insurance… I’m so stupid.” She started to cry, not delicate tears but gut-wrenching sobs that shook her body, she sank against her ruined car until she was sitting on wet pavement.
Even if she sold the scraps of her ruined car, she would never be able to pay for the damages on my car.
I stood there under the cold rain as I watched a beautiful stranger fall apart on the side of the road, something uncomfortable twisted in my chest.
Normally I would be reaching out to call my lawyer or even the police to handle this but I found myself crouching down beside her, the rain pooling in my expensive shoes.
“Hey.” I waved at her.
I had always viewed women as pleasure instruments, once used and dumped when I was done, they were replaceable, never to be loved but something about her seemed … to sway my thoughts.
“Bad day, huh?” I offered her a hand.
We looked at it like it might be a trap. “Probably the worst day in my life and I’ve ruined yours apparently.”
“Well, we can’t sulk up all night.” I helped her up, an idea striking in my head. “Your name?”
“Nilah,” she responded quietly, taking her hand away from mine. “I can contact insurance although I don't know how to…”
Giving her a once-over glance, I spoke. “Doesn't seem like you would be able to pay for fifty grand worth of damage.” I chuckled modestly staring at the defeated look in her eyes.
“I’m really sorry for ruining your day.”
“I’m Darien and apparently you had interrupted a series of text messages from my mother trying to convince me to go on a blind date with whoever's daughter she has convinced this time.”
That earned a watery smile from her. “Oh dear, she's so sweet.”
“I know right?” I looked between her and my car, the idea gaining more validity. “How about if my insurance covers my car repairs you’ll do something for me?”
Her face fell. “I told you, I don't have…”
“Not money.” I pulled out my phone, rain dotting the screen. “A favor. There's a little event tomorrow with family and business associates, quite boring but I need a date and if I spend the entire evening alone, my mom will no doubt insist on my marrying some rich skate associate's daughter.”
Nilah stared at me like I had grown a second head. “You want me to be your fake date?”
“Just for the night, show up with a smile and pretend you find me rather charming, and in exchange, I take care of the damages and we call it even… no lawyers, no insurance hassle, and no paper trail.”
“Thats…” she stared at me dumbfounded, “you don't even know me, what if I agree and then run off or I’m possibly a serial killer?”
“Are you planning on running off?”
“No, but..”
“Then we are good.” I reached out for her phone, which she had clutched tightly in her hand, typing in my contact. “I’ll send a car to you at seven, wear something nice… not too nice, just something that speaks ‘mysterious new girlfriend’ not ‘gold digger’, which sounds terrible but these people can smell even the slightest desperation.”
“I don't have anything appropriate for…”
“I’ll have something sent to your place?” I suggested, fully committed to a plan with a stranger, damn the consequences, this was once in a lifetime. “Your address?”
She said that she would be staying in a hotel and soon came to realise what she was about to do with an absolute stranger. “This is crazy, you know? Just had an accident and were both talking about fake dating under the rain?” She brushed her fingers over her damp hair. “Have I gotten to this stage of craziness?”
“Maybe we are.” I smiled, something that felt genuine for the first time this week. “Or perhaps we are both having the worst days and doing something crazy which is exactly what we need and we never have to see each other again.”
She nodded. “Alright, one dinner Mr Darien.” she shook my hand.
“It's been a pleasure being crashed by you.”
She nodded. “I just hope I don't regret this.” She smiled, turned around and got into her car, and drove off in her battered honda, tail lights flickered, and she realized I was grinning like an idiot.
I mean I don't find something this thrilling every day.
At least my mother would be off my toes and I’ll be off the market for one night or maybe longer if she turns out to be more interesting.
DARIENViktor, the oldest captain at the table, leaned forward. His grey hair was cut short, and his face was lined with old scars. "Do we take the boys down to the docks and wipe them out tonight, Boss? Just give the word. We have enough men to clear his warehouse in an hour.""No," I said. "We aren't doing a street war."Nilah reached forward and picked up a thick black folder that Marko had placed on the table earlier. Inside were the real paper ledgers—the original records showing every fake bank account, every illegal bribe, and every shipment Julian and Moretti had stolen over the last five years.Nilah set the heavy folder down right in the middle of the polished wood table."Dominic Moretti thinks he controls the city because he has men with guns on the docks," Nilah said. Her voice was quiet, but it was crystal clear, cutting through the silence of the room.The eight captains turned their heads and looked at her, listening intently."But Moretti doesn't have his own money,"
Darien I pulled the black car into the underground parking garage beneath our apartment building. The engine died, and the cold quiet of the concrete garage filled the car. Rain was pouring hard outside, echoing down the air vents. I looked over at Nilah. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the blank grey wall. "We don't have to stay here tonight, Nilah," I said softly. "We can drive to a hotel downtown. We can stay anywhere you want." "No," Nilah said, her voice small but steady. "This is our home, Darien. We have spent three years running away from it. If we go to a hotel, we are just hiding again. We need to do this." I reached over and squeezed her hand. Her skin was cool, but her grip was firm. "Okay," I said. "Then we go up together." We got out of the car and walked to the private elevator at the end of the parking bay. I pressed the top button, and the heavy doors slid shut. The elevator rose quickly toward the penthouse. When the silver do
NilahOutside the passenger window, the high pine trees were covered in thick white snow. The sky above the valley was dark grey, heavy with cold clouds that promised another bitter blizzard before nightfall.Inside the truck, it was warm, but my chest felt completely frozen.Marko held the steering wheel with both hands, his dark eyes fixed on the icy road ahead. A short black steel shotgun rested against the middle console between our seats. His rough face was tense, his jaw clenched tight in absolute silence.I looked down at my hands resting in my lap. My fingers were still trembling slightly from the terrifying minutes in the greenhouse. I could still see the cold blue eyes of the tall man with the scar. I could still hear the harsh click of his heavy pistol pointed straight at my forehead.“Either way, Darien dies tonight.”The cruel words echoed inside my mind over and over again, sharper than the cold wind outside.For three long years, I had believed that running away was the
DARIENThe cold wind blew hard through the open window of my black car. I sat parked on the side of the snowy mountain trail, two miles south of town, staring at the dark silhouette of the old lumber mill.My right hand rested on the leather steering wheel. My heavy black bag, holding the paper ledgers, sat on the passenger seat beside me. The metal pistol was heavy and cold under my dark coat.A sharp, high-pitched alarm sounded from the dashboard.I looked down instantly. My private mobile phone, mounted beside the steering wheel, was flashing a bright red light across the dark interior of the car.It was the silent emergency signal. The silent alarm Clara had installed under the greenhouse counter had been pressed.My heart stopped completely. The blood in my veins turned to pure liquid ice.Nilah.I didn't think. I didn't hesitate.I slammed my heavy boot down flat against the gas pedal. The tires spun violently against the snow, throwing white ice into the air, and the black car
NILAHThe small brass bell above the front glass door chimed loudly in the quiet shop.I set the silver scissors down on the wooden counter and looked up with a small, polite smile on my face. "Good afternoon! Welcome to Oakridge Green—"The words froze in my throat.Two men walked into the warm greenhouse. They were not local mountain people. They did not wear thick wool coats, knit caps, or snow boots like the townsfolk.They wore long, heavy black leather jackets, dark dress pants, and clean black leather shoes that were already melting snow onto the clean concrete floor. The man on the left was tall and thin, with pale skin, cold blue eyes, and a long red scar running down his left cheek. The man on the right was shorter, broad-shouldered, with a shaved head and dark, mean eyes that looked around the quiet shop like a wolf searching for sheep.They did not look at the green plants. They did not look at the colorful flowers. They looked straight at me.The tall man with the scar re
DARIENThe cold morning sun reflected brightly off the high snowdrifts outside my second-floor window.I sat at my long wooden desk in the brick building across the street from the greenhouse. My black laptop was open in front of me, its small screen showing financial reports and shipping logs from the city. Beside the computer sat a plain ceramic mug filled with lukewarm black coffee.Across the quiet, snow-covered road, I could see the tall glass walls of the greenhouse. Every few minutes, I would look up from my screen and glance through the window.Nilah was down there, moving slowly down the green central aisle. She wore a thick grey sweater, a green linen apron tied around her narrow waist, and yellow rubber boots. She carried a small red watering can in her hands, carefully pouring water over the roots of a row of small fern potted plants.She looked peaceful. The sharp, terrified look that had filled her dark eyes for three years had softened into something calm and quiet.A q
Nilah’s povThe penthouse was quiet, I stood in the kitchen with my hands gripping the sink as I stared at the divorce papers, I tried remembering how to breathe.In… out…The same way my therapist had taught me before I had stopped going because Marcus said I didn’t need one."You're being dramati
NILAHThe silence in the grand ballroom was loud, it felt heavier than the rain that had ruined my car hours ago, making my head spin as I tried to process what my father had just blurted out from the podium.Hundreds of eyes shifted from my father, following his proud gaze, until they locked direc
Nilah povAt exactly five the dress arrived.I stood in my childhood bedroom staring at it for a full minute before I even dared to touch it.Midnight blue, floor length with a neckline that dipped just low enough to say ‘I know exactly what I’m doing’ and a slit that climbed too high up on one thi
Nilah’s povWhat the hell had I done?I sat in my car, staring at the mansion I had once called home, the perfectly trimmed garden stretched towards a fountain. Everything was just as I had remembered.Beautiful, warm, and inviting.My phone buzzed with a text from a number I didn't recognize. “The







