Please… Stop

Amara Cross POV

"Where do you think you’re going, pretty little thing?"

My whole body shook when his rough voice tore through the empty street. I turned around and found myself surrounded by their ugly faces. One of them let out a sharp whistle, loud and mocking, slicing through my ears.

Cold flooded my limbs. My heart slammed against my chest like a mad drum. My face must have betrayed me, must have shown the fear eating me alive from the inside.

"Look at this body. What a slut. Full curves, hot as hell… Keep her, Chris. Or better yet, why don’t we all take turns? That’d be fun."

Those filthy words made my stomach twist in nausea. The moment he finished speaking, I jerked hard, trying to pull my wrist from his grip. His hand crushed my flesh like iron pliers. He was stronger. Much stronger than my desperate attempts.

"Shh… shh… don’t be scared, little one. You’ll enjoy it."

In that moment, with tears blurring my vision, only survival moved me. I gathered what little dignity I had left and spat in his face with all my strength.

His already ugly features twisted with instant rage. He wiped my saliva with his huge hand, scarred and rough, like burned land carved with deep lines.

He didn’t give me even one second.

His fingers dug into my scalp. He yanked my hair so hard a strangled scream ripped from my throat, then threw me to the ground like a lifeless body. My back hit the cold asphalt. A sharp pain exploded in my hip, forcing a bitter groan from my lips.

I tried to push myself up on my shaking palms, but a brutal kick to my stomach sent me back down. I curled into myself, pulling my knees to my chest like a terrified snail. And in that moment, I realized something painful.

A snail has a hard shell to protect it.

I had nothing.

He grabbed my shirt collar while I was curled on the ground and forced my face up to his. In his eyes burned a fire of rage that devoured whatever humanity he had left. He clenched his massive fist. Veins bulged, ready for a deadly punch.

I squeezed my eyes shut. My breathing stilled. I waited for the dark.

But suddenly…

The weight crushing my chest vanished. The filthy body blocking the rain pulled away.

I opened my tear soaked eyes and gasped.

A stranger stood there.

Tall. Solid. Like a mountain.

He had the attacker by the collar, raining down fast, brutal punches. No mercy. None at all.

I looked around. The other bastards were gone. Vanished. Running like rats into the street drains.

"How dare you, you piece of trash, kick and assault a girl young enough to be your daughter?"

His voice thundered through the street. Deep. Powerful. Full of authority.

I stared at his broad back. Warmth slid into my chest despite the cold.

"Please, sir, stop. You’ll kill him like this."

I begged, my voice raw.

He didn’t listen. Pouring his anger into that piece of filth was his only focus.

I tried to stand, but my stomach screamed from the kick. I bared my teeth in pain, swaying as I rose. I reached out with a trembling hand and touched his back. He towered over me, intimidating, overwhelming.

"Please… stop. I hate blood. And I’m scared you’ll kill him."

He finally turned to me.

His eyes were empty. Or maybe ice lived inside them. I couldn’t read what he was thinking. He looked back at the attacker for a few seconds, then straightened and released his collar.

The man collapsed to the ground like a worn out rag.

The stranger bent down calmly, picked up my scattered bag, and handed it to me in silence.

"I really… thank you. I don’t know how to say how grateful I am. I… I…"

My words tangled in my throat. The shaking inside me hadn’t stopped yet.

"No need to thank me. Any decent man would’ve done the same. You’re like a daughter to me. It wouldn’t have been honorable to ignore something like that."

I studied him, carving his features into my memory.

He was incredibly handsome. Dark hair slicked back neatly, though the rain had loosened a few strands that fell over his forehead in a dangerously attractive way. His black eyes were sharp.

"Do you want me to take you home? Or can you manage on your own?"

His calm voice snapped me out of my daze. I inhaled softly, clearing my throat in embarrassment. He had definitely noticed my staring.

"No, it’s fine. I think I’m okay. I don’t want to trouble you. Thank you so much again."

I bowed to him at a ninety degree angle out of respect. When I straightened, he was still staring at me, unreadable.

"If you were a burden, I wouldn’t have offered help in the first place. Right?"

He paused, then added with a hint of concern, "You don’t have to get in the car if you don’t want to. But your knee is bleeding. You look pale. And the rain is getting worse."

I looked down at my knee.

A thin line of red blood slid over my pale skin. I hadn’t even noticed the scratch. Cold rain hit the wound, stinging sharply. I closed my eyes in pain.

I hugged my bag tightly, trying to steal some warmth from it, then looked at him shyly.

"Okay… I guess I’ll accept. Better than freezing to death out here."

I said it with a shy smile and a soft laugh, then walked toward his luxury car. I opened the door, then froze when I saw the clean leather seats and glanced at my soaked clothes.

"What is it? Go on. Sit."

I tucked my hair behind my ear, heat flooding my face.

"I think my wet clothes might ruin the seat. It wouldn’t be nice to mess up your car."

His gaze dropped slowly to my chest, where the wet white fabric clung to my skin, clearly outlining my bra. Then his eyes slid down to my pants, plastered to my thighs like a second skin.

He didn’t look away.

A strange shiver ran down my spine. This time, it wasn’t from the cold.

"Don’t worry. Whether your clothes get wet… or something else does, it won’t be a problem like you think."

His voice was steady. I didn’t understand what he meant by "something else" back then.

"Leave that to me. Now… sit."

I nodded and sat beside him, my heart fluttering like a trapped bird.

I was in a stranger’s car. A man whose name I didn’t even know. A man who had saved me from a human monster.

Could they have been working together?

No. Those punches. That rage in his eyes. It was real.

I sank into my thoughts, the sound of rain fading away, until a strong masculine scent slipped into my lungs. Suddenly, his arm moved in front of me.

"Hey, little one. Did you lose your hearing? Looks like I’ll have to buckle you in myself."

His deep voice vibrated as he reached for the seatbelt near my head.

My body jolted when his chest brushed mine for a split second. Just one second. But it was enough to spark a tremor I had never felt before.

His scent was intoxicating. Dangerous. It filled all my senses.

"Oh… I guess I drifted off for a moment. I’m really sorry. How stupid of me."

---

At the University

The vice dean’s office was spacious. A man in his fifties sat behind the desk, wearing a formal suit, balancing his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Good morning, sir. I’m Amara Cross. I was accepted into the university with a scholarship. I’m here to complete my registration."

He looked up and smiled warmly. "Welcome, Miss Amara. Did you bring your documents and the scholarship papers?"

I opened my bag with trembling hands and handed him the file I guarded like my life. He reviewed the papers carefully while I watched his eyes move across the pages.

"Everything is in order. And your grades are impressive, Miss Amara. Looks like the university gained a hardworking student."

He chuckled softly. Relief flooded my chest, and I smiled shyly.

"Thank you, sir."

He suddenly stood up, holding my papers. "You’ll be officially registered in a few minutes. Then I’ll direct you to the new students department to receive your schedule and student ID."

I bowed gratefully. "I appreciate it, sir."

He gestured for me to sit while he finished. I sat, looking around the office, barely believing I was really here.

All of this started because of that man. The one who saved me.

I was still wearing Mr. Dorian Vale’s jacket. He had introduced himself before leaving. I pressed it to my chest.

Suddenly, the vice dean returned. But this time, his look was cold. Strange.

I quickly pulled the jacket away from my face, as if caught committing a crime.

"Miss Amara, there are still many students ahead of you. So you have two options. Either you wait a long time until your name is called, or you come back tomorrow morning to collect your things and start your classes directly. What do you think?"

His friendly tone shifted into firm seriousness. I swallowed nervously.

"Um… I think I’ll come back tomorrow to collect everything, sir. Since I’ll be here again anyway. Thank you so much."

I stood up, slung my bag over my shoulder, and tightened Dorian’s jacket around me.

He nodded stiffly, then flashed a wide smile as he returned to organizing his files.

The sudden change in him unsettled me. Was something wrong with him?

I left the office with steady steps and a restless heart. I headed toward the gate. I had nowhere to go except Isla’s place, my late cousin’s daughter.

Isla was my only family in this big city.

I stared at the crowded street, exhausted. All I wanted now was sleep. The road to Isla’s neighborhood felt endless in the traffic, so I waved down a taxi.

"Please… take me to *****."