Chapter 2

(**Ivan Dominic Point of View**)

The garage was quiet except for the steady hum of the coffee machine.

I stood at the small counter that served as my kitchen, watching the dark liquid drip slowly into the mug beneath it. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, rich and bitter, grounding me in the calm that followed the chaos of the night.

Outside, rain continued to fall softly against the metal roof of the building, creating a dull rhythm that echoed throughout the wide space. The storm had not stopped since the girl appeared on the street, running like a frightened animal straight into my life.

I leaned my hip against the counter and rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, trying to shake off the strange feeling lingering in my chest.

What the hell was I doing?

Helping strangers had never been part of my routine.

I lived by simple rules. I handled the business Gregori gave me, stayed out of unnecessary trouble, and never involved myself in other people’s messes.

Yet somehow there was a teenage girl sleeping in the room next to mine.

A quiet sound of movement interrupted my thoughts as I turned my head toward the hallway just in time to see her appear.

She walked slowly into the main area of the garage, her steps cautious as if she were unsure whether she was truly welcome there.

And she was wearing my clothes.

The oversized black shirt I had given her hung loosely over her small frame, the sleeves nearly swallowing her hands. The fabric reached the middle of her thighs like a dress, making her look even smaller than she already was.

For a moment, I simply stared.

Then a quiet chuckle escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

Well… This was new. A girl standing in my garage wearing my clothes. Usually when a woman wore my shirt, the situation was very different.

It normally happened after she had spent the night in my bed, after she had given me the kind of pleasure that made the hours pass quickly before she disappeared again by morning.

Not like this... Not a frightened girl who looked like she had run from death itself.

I sighed softly and turned back toward the counter.

“I made you something warm,” I said, sliding a mug across the surface toward the empty stool near the counter. “Hot chocolate.”

I glanced back at her just in time to see surprise flicker across her face.

She walked toward me slowly, her bare feet silent against the concrete floor. Her damp silver hair had dried slightly but still fell messily over her shoulders, framing a face that looked far too young to be caught in something this dangerous.

“Thank you… sir,” she said quietly.

I raised an eyebrow.

Sir? Another small laugh escaped me.

I picked up my own mug and took a sip of coffee before leaning casually against the counter again.

The girl wrapped both hands around the warm mug as though she needed the heat more than the drink itself.

The garage was large but simple. It was not the kind of place anyone would call comfortable, yet it had always been enough for me.

Several motorcycles rested along the far wall, each one carefully maintained. My tools and spare parts were organized neatly near the workbench, while a worn leather couch and low table formed the center of the living area.

A narrow hallway led to a single bedroom and bathroom.

It was not fancy but it was private. Safe. And very few people even knew it existed. Which made the situation even more ridiculous.

I gestured toward the couch. “Come sit down.”

She hesitated for a moment before walking over and lowering herself onto the chair across from me. Her movements were careful, almost hesitant, as though she was still unsure whether she should trust me.

I leaned back against the couch and studied her quietly.

“Tell me your story,” I said finally. “You owe me that much for rescuing you, kid.”

Her shoulders stiffened slightly.

“Start with your name.”

For a moment she remained silent, staring down at the steaming drink in her hands as if gathering the courage to speak.

Then she lifted her head. “My name is… Sierra.”

She hesitated again before continuing.

“Sierra Belvania Smith.”

I nodded slowly, encouraging her to continue without interrupting.

“Well… those men you saw back there,” she said quietly. “They were hired by my uncle.”

“Hired to do what?”

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. “To kill me.”

I stared at her for a moment.

Great… Just great. Nothing could be better... I sighed.

“Why?” I asked calmly, taking another sip of my coffee. “Did you do something so terrible that people want you dead?”

She shook her head slowly. “No.”

Her fingers tightened around the mug.

“I think… it is because I am the heir to the Smith family fortune?”

I frowned slightly.

Smith… That name did not ring any immediate bells.

Money and corporations were Gregori’s area of interest, not mine.

“I will ask Gregori later,” I muttered under my breath.

Then I looked back at her.

“Where are your parents in all of this?” I asked. “Why are they not protecting you?”

Her gaze dropped immediately to the floor.

“They died,” she said softly. “Two years ago. A car accident.”

Damn… I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.

What exactly had I stepped into?

“And how old are you, Sierra?” I asked.

She looked up again. “Um.. I am seventeen.”

My entire body went still.

“But, I will turn eighteen next month.”

Shit!!! A long breath escaped my chest.

This was not good. Not good at all.

If anyone decided to twist the story the wrong way, they could easily claim that I had kidnapped a minor.

And damn it, apparently someone did exactly that.

The next morning the television screen in the corner of the garage showed Sierra’s face.

Her photograph filled the news broadcast while a reporter spoke in a serious voice.

The headline beneath it read: ‘MISSING BILLIONAIRE HEIRESS ABDUCTED BY MOTORCYCLE GANG MEMBER’

I stared at the screen in disbelief, like seeing the thing I thought could happen in my head truly happen at me.

They were already telling the story but they were telling it wrong.

Security footage appeared next. It was the cameras that had captured the moment she climbed onto my motorcycle the night before.

To anyone watching, it looked exactly like what they wanted it to look like. A dangerous biker kidnapping a wealthy underage girl. And just like that, I finally understood who she really was.

Sierra Belvania Smith… Daughter of one of the wealthiest families in Los Angeles.

The girl sitting in my garage was not just a runaway, but she was a target. And I had just become part of the problem.

Great!!! Damn me and my bad luck.

“I am sorry..” Sierra whispered suddenly.

I looked away from the television toward her after I hear her voice.

Her eyes were filled with guilt. “I am so sorry for involving you in this, sir.”

She said it again. And again.

The apology repeated so many times that it eventually became impossible to ignore the sincerity in her voice.

I could have thrown her out right then. Yes, it would have been the smartest decision but the image of those black SUVs chasing her through the rain lingered in my mind.

Someone truly wanted her dead and leaving her alone on the street would only guarantee that they succeeded.

“Stop calling me sir,” I said finally.

She blinked in surprise.

“Call me Ivan... Dominic, but not Sir.”

I watched her nod slowly.

“Dominic,” she repeated quietly.

At that exact moment, neither of us noticed the truly danger approaching, we certainly did not know that the men chasing Sierra had never intended to bring her back alive.

The motorcycle engine roared as we left the garage later that afternoon for a snack since I can’t cook and decided to eat something outside.

Sierra sat behind me, her small hands gripping my jacket while the city blurred around us.

I just decide to go to the nearest place, not crowded, especially won't be much people aorund when the car appeared out of nowhere, I barely had time to react before the vehicle swerved violently into our lane.

Metal collided with metal.

"Ugh..." The impact sent us both flying.

The world spun violently around me as I crashed against the pavement as pain exploded through my body because of it.

Damn it!! For several seconds I could hear nothing but ringing.

Then voices.

Shouting.

Police sirens.

And when my vision finally cleared, I saw her. Sierra lay several feet away on the cold asphalt with blood spread slowly beneath her body and her blue eyes stared at the sky without moving.

I struggled against the hands grabbing my arms as police officers dragged me toward their car.

They shouted accusations I barely heard. Kidnapper. Criminal. Monster.

But none of that mattered for me, because the only thing I could see was the girl with the bluest eyes I had ever known.

The girl who had looked at me like I was not a monster at all. And I had failed to save her. "No, Sierra... SIERRAAA..!!!!!" I scream her name, yet she just lay there on the street with bleed coming out from her head.

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