Chapter 1: The Beginning of His dark Obsession

The rain was falling heavily against the car window. 

Loren leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel tight. The wipers moved back and forth as fast as they could, but the road ahead was still blurry and dark. 

Iliyana sat in the front passenger seat. She pulled her red wool scarf a little tighter around her neck to keep warm. 

"Drive carefully, Loren," Iliyana said, checking the time on her phone. "It is past midnight. If I am late getting home, my dad is going to lose his mind."

"I am trying," Loren replied, her voice nervous. "I can barely see two feet in front of us. This road is completely empty."

Suddenly, two tall figures appeared right in the middle of the road.

Loren slammed her foot on the brakes. The tires screamed against the wet ground. The car slid sideways and stopped just inches away from the two men.

"Are they out of their minds?!" Loren shouted, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Through the wet glass, Iliyana stared at them. They did not move. They both wore long black coats, completely soaked from the rain. 

The taller man walked around to the driver's side. In his hand was a heavy black handgun. He tapped the metal barrel twice against Loren’s window.

Loren froze. The color drained from her face.

The man pulled the door open from the outside. Cold rain blew into the car.

"Get in the back. Right now," he said. His voice was deep, steady, and cold.

It was John Alex. Everyone in the city knew his face and feared his name. Standing right behind him was his younger brother, Eric.

"Please don't hurt us," Loren cried, scrambling out of her seat and jumping into the back. 

Eric slid into the back seat beside Loren to keep her quiet. 

John sat in the driver's seat and pulled the door shut. 

His large frame instantly filled the front of the car. Water dripped from his dark hair down his sharp jaw. Before putting the car in gear, John turned his head and looked at Iliyana.

Their eyes locked.

Iliyana did not cry or scream. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed fast, but she looked right back into his dark eyes with fierce courage. John stared at her soft face and the bright red scarf around her neck. In that quiet second, something pulled hard at his chest. In his world, people always begged or ran from him. But this girl was looking at him without breaking.

"Seatbelt on," John said quietly. 

He stepped hard on the gas, and the car shot forward into the dark, rainy night.

A few minutes later, as they passed an old industrial area, two large black SUVs rushed out of a side street, blocking the road ahead.

Loud gunshots tore through the storm.

Bullets slammed into the hood of the car. John didn't panic. He spun the wheel hard, crashing the car through the open gates of an abandoned warehouse to get off the open road.

The car hit an old wooden platform and jerked to a stop.

Outside, more tires screeched. Armed men jumped out of the SUVs, shooting rapidly into the warehouse. 

John and Eric moved without hesitation. They were killers, but they never let innocent people die in their fights.

"Eric, take the driver and get behind the metal containers! Move!" John ordered loudly.

"Got her!" Eric grabbed Loren’s arm and shielded her with his body, pulling her into a safe corner behind the heavy steel boxes.

John turned to Iliyana. He grabbed her hand firmly. "With me. Stay down."

His hand was big, warm, and rough against her cold skin. He pulled her out of the passenger door, keeping his own body between her and the bullets. He led her behind a thick concrete pillar in the darkest corner of the building.

"Sit here and don't make a sound," John told her, his eyes dead serious.

Iliyana nodded quickly, pulling her knees tight against her chest.

John pulled two guns from his coat and stepped out into the open. The noise inside the warehouse was deafening. John moved fast, firing back with lethal accuracy. Within seconds, three shooters hit the floor.

While John was firing toward the entrance, one of the rival men sneaked along the wall and spotted Iliyana hiding behind the pillar.

A cruel grin spread across the man's face. He stepped forward and grabbed Iliyana by the front of her jacket, pulling her up roughly. "Look what we have here," he sneered, pulling out a knife.

"Get your hands off me!" Iliyana kicked his leg with all her strength.

The man raised his hand to hit her across the face.

Before his hand could land, a heavy boot slammed into his chest.

It was John.

John’s face was twisted in pure rage. He grabbed the man by the throat, lifted him clean off his feet, and slammed him hard against the concrete pillar. The man let out a choked scream. John didn't waste a second—he threw him to the floor and fired a bullet straight into his chest.

Another gunman came rushing from the side, raising his weapon. John turned his head, raised his gun, and shot the second man dead before he could pull the trigger.

Suddenly, three more shooters stepped into the doorway, pointing their rifles right toward Iliyana’s corner.

There was no time to move her.

Without a second thought, John stepped directly in front of Iliyana, using his wide back and shoulders as a human shield to cover her completely.

A hail of bullets tore through the air.

One bullet grazed John's upper arm, tearing his black coat. Another sliced across his shoulder. Blood quickly soaked through the dark fabric.

John let out a low grunt, but he didn't move an inch. 

Standing right over Iliyana, protecting every part of her body, John raised both guns. He fired shot after shot with deadly aim.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

One by one, the last shooters dropped dead on the wet concrete.

Then, complete silence fell over the warehouse. The gunfire was gone. The only sound left was the rain pouring outside and the steady drip of blood falling from John's arm.

John slowly lowered his guns and turned around.

He was standing right in front of Iliyana, trapping her against the concrete pillar. They were so close she could feel the heat pouring off his chest with every heavy breath he took. 

His face was wet with rain and sweat. Blood was dripping down his hand, but he didn't care about his wound. He didn't even look at it. 

His dark eyes were locked entirely on Iliyana's face.

She looked so small under his shadow, her pale skin glowing in the dim light. Her lips were slightly parted, and her chest was rising and falling quickly. But she was still looking straight back at him. 

A dark, dangerous feeling took root deep inside John's chest. 

She's mine, a voice whispered ruthlessly inside his head. From this second on, no one touches her.

Slowly, John raised his right hand. 

His knuckles were bruised and stained with blood, but when his fingers reached her face, his touch was unexpectedly gentle. 

He pressed the side of his thumb against her soft cheek, slowly brushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear. 

Iliyana froze. 

His skin was burning hot against her cold cheek. A shiver ran through her body. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared into his dark eyes. 

She wanted to slap his hand away from her, but her body refused to move. It felt like an invisible chain was pulling her toward him. And she didn't know why.

John leaned in a little closer. His thumb traced down the curve of her jaw, lingering right beside her trembling lower lip. He felt the fast flutter of her pulse beneath his skin.

"Are you okay?" John murmured. His voice was a low, rough whisper against her skin. It sounded less like a question and more like a possessive promise.

Iliyana couldn't speak. Her heart was beating so loud she was sure he could hear it. For that brief second, the rest of the world completely disappeared for them.

Then, hurried footsteps splashed through the water behind them.

"It's over, brother! Everyone is dead!" Eric called out.

The silent intimacy broke between them.

John’s thumb paused on her skin for one last second before his hand slowly dropped away.

Loren ran out from behind the containers, crying in pure relief. "Iliyana! Oh God, Iliyana! We have to leave right now!"

Loren grabbed Iliyana’s hand, pulling her back toward their car.

Iliyana took a step backward, breaking away from John.

In a flash, John’s bloody hand shot out. 

His fingers closed tightly around Iliyana’s other wrist. He yanked her back toward him, refusing to let her go.

Iliyana looked up at him in shock. "Let me go!"

John stared down into her eyes, his grip tight like an iron lock. He did not want to release her. 

"Hey! Let her go!" Loren yelled, pulling Iliyana’s arm with everything she had.

John’s fingers tightened even more, pressing hard into Iliyana’s skin. A small gasp of pain escaped Iliyana's lips as the pressure bruised her wrist.

Hearing her soft cry of pain, John looked down at her small wrist trapped in his hand. 

His jaw tightened. Slowly, his fingers opened. He let her go.

Loren didn't waste a second. She dragged Iliyana to the car, pushed her inside, locked the doors, and drove out into the stormy night as fast as the car could go.

John stood alone in the dark, watching the red taillights vanish down the road.

He took a step forward and looked down at the wet ground where Iliyana had been standing.

There, lying in a puddle of water, was her red wool scarf.

John bent down slowly and picked it up. He held the soft cloth in his scarred, bloody hand, bringing it close to his chest. The faint, sweet smell of vanilla was still on it.

Behind him, Eric walked up, watching his brother with a curious frown. 

A slow, dangerous look settled in John Alex's eyes. 

"Find out," John said softly into the rain. "Before sunrise."