Rescuing the invulnerable Billionaire

The rain poured relentlessly, drenching the empty streets and turning the alleyways into rivers of filth. Elena Martinez pulled her hood tighter, shielding her face as she navigated the darkened path home. The scent of damp earth and rotting garbage mixed with the crisp night air, reminding her of the life she was trapped in. In her arms, she clutched a bag of groceries, the weight of her mother’s medicine heavier than the rest. She was used to walking these streets alone, but tonight, something felt different.

San Francisco loomed in the night, a city of glass and steel carved into the rugged cliffs of the Pacific.

A sound cut through the rain—low, rough, and unmistakably desperate. Elena stopped, her heart hammering against her ribs as she strained to listen. The scuffle of feet, the sharp intake of breath, and then a deep, pained grunt. Slowly, she edged toward the alley behind Wales warehouse, her pulse roaring in her ears. What she saw made her breath hitch.

A man was pinned against a sleek black car, his expensive suit soaked and clinging to his muscular frame. Two masked figures surrounded him, one gripping his collar while the other pressed a gun into his ribs. Blood trickled from a cut on his temple, painting a stark contrast against his pale skin. Even in the dim light, Elena recognized him instantly. Adrian Blackwood—the billionaire whose name carried more power than the city itself—was fighting for his life.

"We warned you, Blackwood," one of the attackers growled, tightening his grip. "Your money can’t save you tonight."

Adrian let out a sharp breath, his lips curling into a smirk despite the danger. "Then you should’ve picked an easier target."

With sudden force, he drove his knee into the thug’s stomach, breaking free for a moment. But the second man reacted faster, slamming him back against the car with brutal strength. Adrian grunted as his head snapped back, fresh blood mixing with the rain. The gun shifted dangerously close to his heart, and he staggered slightly.

"You just don’t know when to quit, do you?" the gunman muttered, cocking the weapon.

"Call it a bad habit," Adrian rasped, his voice thick with defiance.

Elena clenched her fists, a war raging inside her. She should leave. This wasn’t her fight. But when she saw the gunman’s finger tightening on the trigger, something inside her snapped.

She moved.

Grabbing a rusted metal rod from the ground, she lunged from the shadows and swung with all her strength. The impact sent the gun flying, clattering loudly against the pavement. The attacker stumbled back with a pained yell, giving Adrian a brief opening. He didn’t waste it.

With calculated precision, he drove his fist into the first thug’s jaw, sending him sprawling. The second attacker spun toward Elena, fury flashing in his eyes, but she was already moving. She hurled her grocery bag at his face, tomatoes and onions bursting on impact, blinding him just long enough for Adrian to deliver a knockout blow.

"What the hell—" the man barely got the words out before Adrian’s fist connected with his jaw.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

The remaining thug cursed and stumbled to his feet, dragging his unconscious partner as he vanished into the storm. The fight was over, but Elena’s breath still came in ragged gasps. She could feel Adrian’s piercing gaze searching the darkness, but she couldn’t let him see her. Not now.

Adrian took an unsteady step forward, blinking against the rain. "Wait—"

Elena turned on her heel, disappearing into the shadows before he could catch a clear glimpse of her.

As he swayed, his strength slipping away, she hesitated just for a second. But before she could reach him, headlights sliced through the alley, and another car screeched to a stop. Black-suited men poured out, their voices frantic as they rushed to his side.

"Mr. Blackwood!"

"Adrian, can you hear me?"

Fabian, his personal assistant, knelt beside him, gripping his arm. "Damn it, sir, you’re bleeding all over the place!"

Adrian let out a low, frustrated breath. "I’m fine."

Fabian gave him a pointed look, his phone already pressed to his ear. "Yeah? Tell that to the ground you’re barely standing on. We need an ambulance at Blackwood Tower. Now."

"I don’t need a damn ambulance," Adrian growled, but the moment he shifted, a sharp dizziness punched through his skull.

Fabian exhaled heavily. "Sure, and I don’t need a raise. Just stay still for once."

But Adrian wasn’t listening. His mind kept rewinding—the strike of the metal rod, the way the gun clattered to the ground, the fleeting figure in the shadows.

Who the hell was she?

---

Elena didn’t stop running until the alley was a distant memory. Rain dripped from her clothes, her breath coming in sharp bursts as she darted through the maze of streets. She forced herself to move, to push past the image of Adrian bleeding in the rain.

She reached home, her fingers shaking as she unlocked the door. The air inside was warm, filled with the familiar scent of old wood and herbal remedies. A weak voice drifted from the bedroom.

"Elena?"

"I’m here, Mama," she called softly, her voice steadier than she felt. She pulled the medicine from her bag, placing it carefully on the wooden table before her legs gave out beneath her.

Her mother coughed lightly. "Did something happen?"

Elena hesitated. "Just… the rain. It was bad tonight."

She knew better than to worry her mother with the truth. The memory of the fight played behind her eyes, the adrenaline still humming in her veins. She had saved Adrian Blackwood, and he had no idea who she was.

As she collapsed onto her cot, she closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come easy. Somewhere in the city of San Francisco a billionaire was searching for answers. And somewhere else, the men who had tried to kill him were planning their next move.

“What if they come for me?” She thought as she fell asleep