Chapter 2: Collide

Zogo's POV

"Update?" I asked Brooks as he approached.

The girl had already gone back to her room, completely unbothered by our presence. In the city both in elite circles and in the underworld, we are feared. People freeze just standing near us.

But her?

She just turned her back like we didn't exist.

She was wearing an oversized, hooded black jacket that almost covered her entire face, but I could still clearly see her small features. She was beautiful, like a character from a painting. Doll-like. Her porcelain skin looked fragile....too delicate to touch. Her pale complexion made it seem like she never stepped out in the sun, and her gray eyes... they were cold, empty, hiding countless secrets.

"Sir, I think Finn got the wrong information," Brooks said, pulling me back to the present.

"What do you mean?" I asked coldly.

"The girl in the picture is her... but the information doesn't match." He handed me a tablet.

I looked.

The girl in the photo was definitely the same one in that room. But according to the report, her name was Amara Georgia Musk, age 20. Occupation: None. Personality: Slow. People called her brainless, a fool... nothing but the burdened granddaughter of Victor Musk, the business tycoon of City T.

I stared at the closed door in front of me.

I had heard stories about her rumors that floated around elite society, all saying she was useless. A retard. Sent away to protect the family image.

But now, I've seen her with my own eyes. The rumors... they're lies.

And I've just uncovered one of her secrets.

Without meaning to, I found myself smirking.

"Boss... do you think maybe they're twins?" Brooks asked, sounding a little unsure.

"No," I said coldly. "They're the same person."

"But... how can someone people call 'retarded' act like that?" Brooks muttered, mostly to himself.

"Because she's not." My voice was firm. "And I think she's interesting."

I grabbed the clothes off the table and stood up.

"Don't tell anyone about her," I ordered them before walking to her bathroom to change.

The bathroom was already clean. Brooks must've taken care of it. But it surprised me how organized she was. There were plenty of cleaning supplies, almost like she was sensitive to dirt and germs.

I took a quick shower and changed. After that, I went into the spare room to try and rest. But even lying down on the extra bed, I couldn't sleep.

I couldn't stop thinking.

I just met the so-called "retard" of City T... and everything about her was a lie.

We were supposed to meet a major investor here in City C. But my enemies had other plans, they sent a group of assassins to ambush us.

We got cornered before we even reached the restaurant. With no other choice, we fled into the alley. No one was around... until she appeared.

Jerald ran to cover her, knowing she was about to walk right into the crossfire. I shot two of the attackers, but the third got away to call backup. Now we're stuck hiding, and I know they're still looking for us.

But something tells me... she's not just a girl who passed by by accident.

I grabbed the cigarette from the bedside table, the one I left there when I got in. Walking over to the window, I lit it and took a drag, letting the smoke drift out into the night air.

My phone lit up with a call from Finn, my other personal assistant who I left in City T to handle business while I was away.

I answered, placing the phone in my ear without a word.

"Boss, I've already traced the person who hired the assassins," Finn reported, his voice tight with anger.

"It's the same group.... Salvatore’s minions."

"Tss..." I clicked my tongue, my tone cold and sharp.

"Still sending people to kill me... what a coward. He really thinks he can outsmart me?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop with my voice.

"We've already taken action without alerting Salvatore. I've also sent extra guards to secure your flight tomorrow. It's at 12 noon your private jet is ready," he added quickly.

There was a pause before Finn continued.

"Oh... by the way. Do you want us to investigate more about Miss Musk? Brooks mentioned the intel might be wrong."

"Nope," I replied calmly. "It's fine. I'll do it myself."

Silence. He didn't answer immediately. Maybe he was shocked.

Hell, I surprised myself too. I don't usually care about these things... but that girl... something about her pulled me in. I've met all kinds of women in my life, but never someone like her. Maybe that's why she caught my interest.

"...Okay, sir," Finn finally said.

I ended the call and took one last drag from my cigarette before putting it out.

The cigarette hissed as I crushed it in the ashtray, snuffing out its last ember. A trail of smoke curled up and vanished into the still air of the room.

I walked back to bed. The sheets were cold. Untouched. And no matter how I laid down, sleep wouldn't come. Because my mind was still on her.

Amara Musk.

To the world, she was a ghost of her family name. A burden. A silent embarrassment locked away in luxury and forgotten by power. They painted her like a porcelain doll...fragile, pale, retard.

But that wasn't what I saw.

That wasn't the girl who moved past a live gunfight like she'd seen worse. That wasn't the girl who walked through chaos without a flinch. Who met my eyes without an ounce of fear.

That girl... she didn't walk like someone who needed protection.

She walked like someone who'd already survived hell.

I lay back against the headboard, one arm behind my head, my other hand resting on the cold metal of the gun tucked beneath my pillow. Just in case.

I could still picture her clearly.

That oversized black jacket that swallowed her small frame. Her slow, careful steps. How she didn't even blink when the shooting started.

Most people flinch. Run. Scream. She did none of that.

She ignored me like I was nothing. And no one ignores me. Not unless they've got something to hide.

I smirked, staring at the ceiling as the puzzle pieces swirled in my head. She wasn't just interesting she was dangerous in a way most people didn't even recognize.

Quiet a danger.

The kind that doesn't need a gun to be fatal.

And I don't walk away from danger. Not until I've figured out exactly what I'm dealing with. A soft noise snapped me out of my thoughts.

Click.

My head turned slowly toward the door. That wasn't the building creaking. That was closer. Too close. I didn't move. I just listened.

Silence.

The kind that wraps around your chest and makes your instincts sharpen. My fingers curled around the grip of the pistol beneath my pillow. Slowly, I sat up and swung my legs over the bed, bare feet silent against the floor. I approached the door. It wasn't locked.

I opened it carefully, slowly.... barely letting it creak. No one was there.

The hallway was dim, lit only by a dying overhead bulb that flickered like it couldn't decide whether to stay alive or not. The whole house smelled of old wood and dust.... quiet, old, and forgotten.

But down the hall... her door was open. Not wide. Just a crack.

My eyes narrowed.

Was she watching?

Or warning?

I took one step into the hallway. No sound. Another step. Still quiet. The carpet muffled my movements perfectly, like this old house was built for secrets. I stopped just before her room.

The light inside was off, but the moonlight spilling in through her window cast a pale glow across the floor. I could see her shadow on the wall.

She was awake.

Sitting.

Watching.

She knew I was here.

A part of me considered turning around. Respecting her space.

But another part.... The part that's kept me alive all these years.... told me not to trust coincidence.

I leaned slightly into the doorframe.

"Can't sleep?" I asked, my voice was low but calm.

Silence.

She didn't even move.

"I don't know who you are, Miss Musk..." I continued, eyes fixed on her unmoving silhouette,

 "...but I know what you're not."

Still no answer.

Just the sound of the wind outside the house, and a distant dog barking into the night.

"You don't flinch when bullets fly. You don't tremble when people die. And you look me in the eye like you've seen worse monsters."

A beat passed.

Another.

And then.... movement.

She stood slowly, like a shadow peeling away from the wall. She didn't come closer. Didn't speak.

Just closed the door.

With a soft, final click.

Shutting me out.

I stood there, staring at the door for a long moment.

Then I smiled.