LOGIN
The yellow cab was parked at the curb, engine idling, its roof light dark.
Emily sat behind the wheel with one elbow resting on the door, fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel in time with the music spilling from the radio. An old song. Slow. Familiar. The kind that made the city outside the windshield blur into lights and shadows instead of noise and chaos.
The sign was off.
She leaned back slightly, letting the seat cradle her shoulders, eyes half-lidded as the melody carried her somewhere softer. Somewhere quieter. For a moment, she could almost pretend she was just another woman in the city, killing time, listening to music, waiting for nothing at all.
The back door flew open.
Emily flinched, hand tightening on the wheel as someone slid into the seat behind her. The door slammed shut with sharp finality.
“Drive.”
The voice was rough. Strained.
Emily turned her head slightly, annoyed more than startled. “Sorry, sir,” she said calmly. “I’m off duty.”
She lifted her chin and nodded toward the windshield. “Light’s off.”
“I said drive.”
She sighed and turned more fully, irritation bubbling up. “I’m not working. You’ll have to find another…”
She stopped.
The man in the back seat was hunched forward, shoulders tight, both hands pressed hard against his left side. His fingers were slick with blood. Dark red. Too much of it. It soaked through his shirt, spreading fast, staining the fabric and dripping onto the seat.
Emily’s breath caught.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re bleeding.”
“Drive.”
Her heart started pounding, the calm she’d been floating in evaporating instantly. “What happened to you? You need a hospital.”
“No,” he said sharply. “You need to do as I say…. Please.”
She stared at him, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. His face was pale, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ground together. Sweat beaded along his hairline. Whatever happened to him hadn’t been small.
“I told you,” she said, voice firmer now, “I’m not working.”
“I’ll pay,” he snapped. “Whatever you want.”
“This isn’t about money,” she shot back. “Are you some kind of criminal? Because I’m not….”
“You’re wasting time,” he said again, weaker this time. “Please drive before they come out.”
Something in his tone made her pause. Not desperation alone. Control. Like pain was something he was used to managing.
Emily glanced at the side mirror.
Three men stepped out of the building behind them.
“Shit,” the man muttered. “You can’t let them see me.”
He sank lower into the seat, shoulders folding inward, trying to make himself smaller, invisible. One hand stayed pressed to his side, the other braced against the floor as if the car itself might hide him.
Outside, the men moved slowly at first, scanning the ground. Emily watched as one of them crouched, fingers brushing against something on the pavement. Blood. He looked up and followed the trail with his eyes.
Straight to the cab.
Her stomach dropped.
The men straightened. One of them pointed.
They broke into a run.
“Get down,” the man in the back seat said hoarsely.
Emily didn’t think.
Her foot slammed onto the gas.
The cab lurched forward just as one of the men reached for the door handle. Tires screeched. The city surged into motion around them, lights streaking as she swerved into traffic.
“What the hell is going on?” Emily shouted, hands tight on the wheel.
“Just drive,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m driving,” she snapped. “Who are those people?”
He groaned, bracing himself as the car surged forward. “I have no idea.”
Emily glanced at the mirror again.
The men were already in a car—black, fast. It peeled away from the curb and fell in behind them with terrifying ease.
“They’re following us,” she said, heart pounding. “You’re telling me you don’t know the people chasing you with guns?”
He didn’t answer right away.
“They’re willing to do all this just to get to you,” she pressed. “And you don’t know who they are?”
His voice came strained. “Maybe they have the wrong person.”
Emily shot him a sharp look. “What do you mean they have the wrong person?”
Silence.
Her grip tightened on the wheel. “You don’t get to be quiet right now.”
He exhaled sharply, pain cracking through his composure. “What do I have to say to make you believe I don’t know who these people are?”
She hesitated, then asked, “Did you take something from them?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Of course not.” He paused, then added, almost bitterly, “Do you really think that matters in a situation like this?”
“It matters to me,” Emily snapped. “You just dragged me into this.”
The car behind them closed the distance, headlights flaring in her rearview mirror.
“Where am I supposed to go?” she asked.
“Anywhere,” he said. “Just lose them.”
Emily swallowed hard and turned sharply onto a side street, tires squealing as the cab cut through traffic. Her pulse roared in her ears, instincts snapping into place. She took another turn, then another, weaving through narrow roads and parked cars.
The city blurred.
“They’re still there,” she muttered.
“Keep driving.”
“I can’t outrun them in a cab!”
She pushed harder anyway, foot heavy on the pedal. The engine protested, but she ignored it. Her hands moved with surprising steadiness, muscles remembering something her mind refused to name.
The man behind her drew in a sharp breath, blood slick on his fingers. “Find somewhere quiet,” he said, voice tight with control. “Drop me off, and you can be on your way.”
Emily glanced at him in the mirror, then twisted in her seat just enough to look back. His face had gone pale, jaw clenched, eyes glassy with pain.
“Shut up,” she said. “Just make sure you don’t die on my backseat.”
She turned her eyes forward just as a car suddenly burst out from a side street ahead of them.
Emily barely had time to register it.
“Shit…”
She yanked the wheel hard to the right.
The cab skidded, tires screaming as metal screamed louder. The world tilted. Glass shattered. Gravity vanished.
Then everything slammed down at once.
The car crashed into a ditch, the impact throwing Emily forward as the airbag exploded in her face. The sound was deafening. Crushing. Final…
Emily woke slowly, as though the morning had found her gently instead of pulling her from sleep. For a moment, she didn’t move. She only lay there, aware of warmth - real, steady warmth beneath her cheek—and the quiet rhythm of a heartbeat under her ear.Then she opened her eyes.Damien was already awake.He was looking at her—not in the guarded way she had grown used to, not with calculation or distance, but with something softer, something open that he did not try to hide. There was no tension in his expression this time, no shadow of worry, only a quiet steadiness that made her chest tighten in a way she didn’t fully understand.“Hi…” she said softly, her voice still thick with sleep.A small smile touched his lips.“Hi,” he replied.She held his gaze for a moment longer, then something flickered through her expression—something uncertain, something that made her shift slightly as though she was about to speak.“I… I don’t know what came over me last night…”She didn’t finish.Dami
Emily didn’t pull away.She couldn’t.Because whatever this was, it held her there—not forcefully, not urgently, but with a quiet certainty that made letting go feel like losing something she had only just begun to understand. Her fingers remained curled into him, her body still close to his, as though some part of her had already chosen this before her mind could catch up.And Damien felt it.Not as confusion.But as something deeper—something that settled into him with a clarity he didn’t question.For a brief moment, he didn’t move, his breath uneven as he searched her face, as if giving her one last chance to step back, to return to the distance they had kept for so long.She didn’t.And in that silence, something shifted.His hand lifted slowly, brushing along her arm before settling at her waist, drawing her closer with a steadiness that was no longer restrained. The space between them disappeared completely, and when he kissed her again, it was no longer cautious.It was certai
Damien had not left Emily’s side. Through the quiet stretch of the night, he remained where he was, seated beside her bed, watching in a silence that did not allow rest. He did not trust himself to sleep—not when something still felt unsettled, not when she lay there so still, as though any moment might shift again into something he could not control. So he stayed, his gaze returning to her again and again, measuring each breath, each small movement, until time itself seemed to blur. It was only when he noticed the tears—slow, quiet trails slipping down her cheeks—that something in him tightened, and he leaned forward, his hand lifting gently to her shoulder as he woke her.“You’re crying,” he said quietly.Emily blinked, her lashes heavy, her mind still caught between two worlds.Her cheeks were wet.She hadn’t even noticed.“I…” she started, but the words didn’t come.Because she didn’t know how to explain something she didn’t understand herself.Damien leaned forward slightly, hi
Damien had never been comfortable with answers that came too easily.Even as he stood in the hospital corridor, speaking with the officers and his own security team, there was something in him that refused to settle. His voice remained controlled as he gave his statement, recounting every detail as precisely as he could—the moment Emily collapsed, the arrival of the ambulance, the way the medics had handled her, and how they had insisted on taking her in before anyone else could intervene.“I went with them,” he said, his tone steady but firm. “I didn’t let them take her alone. They brought her here, into this hospital, into that room. After that… things stopped making sense.”One of the officers nodded, jotting down notes, while another exchanged a brief glance with one of
Emily felt his presence before she opened her eyes.It was not something she could explain—not sound, not movement, not even touch at first—but a quiet awareness that settled over her, steady and unrelenting. When her lashes finally lifted, the first thing she saw was Damien, seated beside her bed, his body leaning slightly forward as if he had been watching her for a long time and did not trust himself to look away.Relief crossed his face the moment he realized she was awake, but it did not come alone. It came tangled with tension, with questions, with something unsettled that had not left him even now.“Emily,” he said, his voice low but immediate, as if he had been holding it back. “How are you feeling?”She blinked slowly, allowin
Damien had never struggled with uncertainty the way he did now.It wasn’t the waiting alone that unsettled him—it was the silence that came with it. The kind of silence that left too much room for questions, for possibilities that didn’t make sense, for instincts that refused to quiet no matter how hard he tried to stay rational. He sat outside the examination room where Emily had been taken, his posture composed but tense, his gaze fixed on the closed door as though staring long enough might force it to open.Around him, the hospital moved in its usual rhythm. Nurses passed by with practiced urgency, voices murmured in low tones, machines beeped steadily behind distant walls—but none of it grounded him. None of it answered the one question pressing at the front of his mind.What happened to her?He had asked.More than once.The staff who had been in the office when she collapsed had nothing useful to offer. Their confusion had been genuine, their explanations fragmented and uncertai
Damien closed the bedroom door behind him and stood there for a moment, staring quietly at the floor.The drive back to the estate that evening had been unusually quiet. Normally he enjoyed those few minutes between the office and home, a chance to let the day settle before stepping into the calm o
Emily sat on the edge of her bed, still wearing the same clothes she had worn to the lunch meeting earlier that afternoon. The evening had already settled over Damien’s estate, and the quiet inside the house felt almost unnatural after the events of the day. From somewhere outside, she could hear t
The taxi ride through the city was quiet.Streetlights passed over the windshield one after another, throwing brief flashes of pale light across Emily’s face as the car moved through the nearly empty roads. The driver didn’t ask questions, and Emily was grateful for that. She leaned her head lightl
The road leading into the forest was narrow and almost invisible beneath the thick shadows of the trees. Damien slowed the car as the headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating patches of gravel and fallen leaves scattered across the path. The city lights had disappeared miles behind him, re







