Gina's POV:

The haggard man threw a punch, and he blocked it with his suitcase, hiding his face behind it. The case cracked, and the man groaned.

"You!" he snarled, lunging forward to attack again.

He slammed the bag into the man's face, and the haggard man crumpled to the ground. In an instant, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from them. We fled on our heels, as fast as our legs could carry us.

Kaint and his men chased after us, close on our trail. He headed into the garage, and I galloped behind him, his grip tight on my wrist.

He pulled a car key from his pocket and pressed it. An SUV chimed, the sound echoing through the garage. We ran to it, and he wrenched the door open.

"Get in," he ordered, and I obeyed blindly, climbing into the back seat.

I didn't know who he was or what his plan was, but I felt nothing could be more cruel than returning to that chaotic family.

He got in too, started the car, reversed out of the parking spot, and sped off.

They kept chasing the car closely until we left the garage and hit the road at high speed.

I looked back through the rear windshield and saw Kaint kicking the ground in frustration under the glare of a streetlight. His angry shadow loomed, monstrous and furious. He stood with his hands on his hips.

He ran a hand over his hair vigorously, burying his head. I knew exactly what he was feeling. I pitied him for a second, then remembered I needed to pity myself more.

I looked back at the man driving the car, cleared my throat, and asked, "Who are you, please?"

"You haven't even thanked me for saving you yet," he chuckled, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

"I don't even know what you're up to," I said, looking out the window, then added silently, How can I even be sure that I'm safe?

"You surely are," he said, looking back. "Those are bad guys, right?" he asked with a smile, returning his focus back to the road. "I can tell right away."

I felt a bit relieved. I couldn't think of anyone in my life who would do this. Either he was a kind passerby, or the whole situation was far more complicated than I thought.

"Would you like to go to my home or a hotel? I can tell you need refuge more than anything right now," he said, his gaze fixed on the road, his tone more serious this time.

I honestly knew a hotel wouldn't work. They already knew I was in Sunshine City. All public places were likely on notice.

I blinked and cleared my throat again; something felt lodged in my oesophagus. "Will I be safe at your home?"

"Sure," he said lightly, as if that was all the reassurance I needed.

"And how do you know me?" I stammered. "Who told you something was going on back there?"

His eyes widened. I could see it in the rearview mirror.

"You ask too many questions," he said with a smile. "It's not good for you."

"What?"

"I understand you have the right to ask, but..." he started.

I interrupted impatiently, "But what? Just tell me."

He smacked his lips and pressed the brake, pulling over to the side of the road.

"You've had a long day already." He looked back at me. His face was quite alluring. My eyes widened, and I quickly snapped out of it. "Haven't you?"

I nodded involuntarily-It was the best I could do.

"All you have to do is rest and trust me." He faced forward and started the car again. "I just risked my life to save you," he murmured, but I heard him.

His words still didn't completely move me. But I had to comply. He was right about one thing: he had risked his life for me.

I just couldn't shake the unanswered questions. Who was he? Why did he save me? How were we connected?

I fastened my seatbelt and lay back against the seat, sighing heavily.

He didn't speak. The car hummed beneath us, steady and warm.

I raised my head slightly, then let it fall back against the headrest, staring at the car roof until my vision blurred. The city lights slid across the ceiling in slow, rhythmic pulses.

"Want some water." He paused the car again.

"Sure. That'll be better."

"Lemme go get some." He got off the car.

Then my head started some calculations; Jax could be really cunning.

I should just runaway or something.

I looked at him talking to the store owner by the road side.

The transition is abrupt. Consider adding a beat of internal hesitation:

I should just run away. Now. Before he comes back.

I looked at him talking to the store owner by the roadside. He was relaxed, at ease. Not watching the car. Not watching me.

Still occupied.

I opened the door slowly, avoiding suspicion.

I retightened the cap, and buried my face to the ground.

Being alone is better than with some mercenaries.

Gina's POV:

I ducked around a corner at the end of the street and paused.

I hid behind the wall and peered at the store.

I wanted to make sure he was gone before making my final run.

He was about leaving the store owner, when I leaned against the wall swiftly. My hand shook a bit-I don't really want to get caught again.

Just freedom. I wanted just that.

I peeped back and he was back at the car.

He opened the driver's door-he clearly does not know I had run.

I looked carefully,not knowing what his next action would be.

And probably after noticing I was not there, he immediately got out.

He looked up and down the street, right and left-clearly tense. He walked back to the store owner and mumbled something I couldn't hear but could guess the meaning of.

He walked back to the car and checked again, now carefully-he probably thought I was hiding at the back seat like a fool.

He walked to passersby, asking questions I couldn't hear, he couldn't get a clue or so it seemed-probably.

I had maintained a good cover-even though I'm not used to hiding, this could cost me my freedom so I have to take actions.

I pressed my back against the wall and held my breath.

He asked another passerby-a woman with a shopping bag-and she shook her head. He thanked her anyway. Even from here, I could see the way his shoulders dropped after each refusal.

"Just give up," I thought. "Just leave."

But he didn't.

He walked the length of the block, then doubled back. He checked the alley across the street. He stood at the corner, turning slowly, scanning every shadow, every doorway.

I had never been watched like this. Not by Kaint's men-they hunted with numbers and orders. This was different. Personal. Like I was something he couldn't afford to lose.

No, I told myself. He's just good at his job. Whatever that job is.

I waited until he disappeared around the next corner. Then I moved.

I didn't run this time. Running drew attention. I walked-fast, but not fast enough to make anyone look twice. I kept my head down, my cap low, my arms wrapped around myself against the cold that had started to settle in my bones.

I didn't know where I was going. I didn't have a plan. I only knew I needed to put distance between us.

The streets of Sunshine City blurred past. Shop windows, streetlights, parked cars. I walked until my feet ached, until my legs felt like they might give out, until the city around me grew quieter and the buildings shorter and the shadows longer.

I found an alley-narrow, dark, hidden from the main road by a row of dumpsters. I slipped into it, pressed my back against the brick wall, and let myself breathe.

I was alone.

I was safe.

I was-

Cold.

The rain started without warning. Not the gentle drizzle I had run through earlier, but a hard, driving rain that soaked through my coat in seconds. I pulled my cap lower, but it did nothing. Water dripped down my neck, my spine, my legs. I was shivering before I could stop myself.

I should move. Find shelter. But my body wouldn't obey. I slid down the wall, my legs folding beneath me, and sat in the wet dirt of the alley with my knees drawn to my chest.

This is fine, I told myself. Just rest for a minute. Then you'll figure it out.

But the minutes passed, and I didn't move. My thoughts grew thick and slow. Evan's face floated behind my eyes. His voice. The last time I saw him-the way he had looked at me like he was saying goodbye before he even left.

He knew, I thought. He knew what was coming, and he didn't tell me.

I don't know how long I sat there. Long enough for the rain to soften. Long enough for my shivering to stop, which I knew, somewhere in the distant part of my brain that was still functioning, was a bad sign.

I heard footsteps.

My eyes snapped open. I hadn't meant to close them.

A figure stood at the mouth of the alley, silhouetted against the dim streetlight. Broad shoulders. Dark coat. Water dripping from his hair.

No.

I scrambled backward, my hands slipping in the mud, my back hitting the wall.

He didn't move. Didn't lunge. Didn't call out.

He just stood there, breathing hard, looking at me like I was something he had been searching for his whole life.

Then he sat down.

On the wet ground, across the alley, his back against the opposite wall. He didn't say anything. He didn't come closer.

The rain fell between us.

I watched him for a long time, waiting for the act to drop, waiting for the mask to crack. It didn't. He sat there, soaked through, shivering just like me, and said nothing.

It was him. The man from earlier.

Finally-I don't know how long-I found my voice.

"Why?"

He looked at me. In the dim light, his eyes were dark, steady, sad.

"Because Evan asked me to protect you."

The name hit me like a physical blow. I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammer against my ribs.

"What did you say?"

"Evan." He said it like a prayer. " he asked me to keep you safe."

I stared at him. The rain kept falling. Neither of us moved.

And for the first time since this nightmare began, I felt something other than fear.

I felt the possibility of hope.

"You know him?" I shook and shivered at the same time-the cold and my fear combined.

He smacked his lips. "Let's just go already. Knowing too much truth at a time would break you, you have to rest now."

The numbness ended and somehow, I stood and he gripped my wrist slowly.

"Let's go."

The walk to the car was very silent, like hearing more from him would break me for real.

He opened the door and I entered slowly.

He entered too and started the car.

My eyes closed slowly.

I didn't mean to sleep. I meant to stay awake, to watch him, to figure out who he was and why he'd risked everything for a stranger.

But exhaustion was heavier than fear.

And somewhere between one breath and the next, the darkness took me.

Gina's POV:

My eyes blurred open slowly, vision still unclear.

The first thing I noticed was silence. Real silence.

No loud footsteps coming for me. No threatening words from my father. No muffled whispers from relatives and maids. And most of all-no Jax. No cold voice telling me my duty. No presence of the man I was supposed to marry.

Just silence.

Then I felt it-the softness that surrounded my body. No aches. No exhaustion. Just relief and relaxation. Beneath me, the source of that softness. I struggled lightly against the grip of the blanket wrapped tightly around me.

Then I stopped.

I touched the blanket again and my eyes widened, fully awake now.

Silk?

I gazed at the ceiling-or rather, I stared through it, my mind still catching up. It was high and white, with a delicate crystal chandelier that caught the light and scattered it into tiny rainbows across the walls.

"Where am I?" I whispered.

I sat up, resting my back against the headboard, and turned my head slowly, studying the room.

It exuded luxury. The massive master bed I lay on was the kind someone orders when they never want to reach the edge. Rich fabric. Silk, everywhere.

Straight ahead, a fireplace sat dark and cold. Above it hung a painting I almost recognized-familiar, like a rough sketch I'd seen somewhere, now transformed into a masterpiece of wealth.

I turned my head, mesmerized by it all.

I stood, expecting pain. Instead, comfort traveled down my nerves. My vein felt loose and fluid, as though I'd been massaged while asleep.

I think I was right-because I was wearing a white robe.

Two ladies entered. They wore matching uniforms, clearly organized, but still luxurious. The kind of beauty a billionaire would want to witness every day.

They bowed slightly.

I stepped back, startled.

"The young master wants you to rest more," the taller one said, her hands clasped behind her.

The young master.

My blood ran cold.

Jax. They meant Jax.

Of course. The man who rescued me-he was working for Jax all along. He brought me here, to Jax's mansion, to deliver me like a package. I had trusted a stranger, and now I was exactly where I never wanted to be: in the home of the man I was fleeing.

But why would Jax care if I rested? Why the silk sheets, the luxury, the concern for my health?

Unless he was trying to soften me. Make me comfortable so I'd lower my guard. So I'd accept my fate.

I thought of Evan-my dead fiancé, Jax's brother. The new heir, forced on me by his father. The same father who sent men to kidnap me. The same family that saw me as a pawn to be traded.

And now I was in their home.

My stomach turned.

"And how is he concerned about that?" My voice shook, but I forced the words out.

The maid straightened from her bow. "I'm sorry?" She looked genuinely confused. "But he was really worried about you when he brought you here."

He brought you here. The rescuer. Working for Jax. Just like everyone else.

"Whatever." I hissed and stepped toward the door.

I stopped and looked back. "Where is he?"

The taller one spoke again-clearly the head maid. "At the garden, down the terrace." She pointed toward a glass enclosure.

I stared through the glass and saw a male figure examining flowers. I frowned, eyebrows rising.

Jax. In a garden. Tending flowers.

The Jax I knew-the cold, distant man my father praised, the heir to an empire-he didn't tend flowers. He didn't stand in sunlight examining roses like some poet.

But maybe I never knew him at all. Maybe the gossip, the rumors, the distant glimpses-none of it was real.

Why do men like him even care about flowers?

I walked into the hallway.

The hallway stretched before me, elegant and endless. A mansion. Jax's mansion. I didn't recognize the location, but the wealth was unmistakable. This was Kings Group territory.

I would have liked him to be my brother-in-law. That I could have tolerated. But my husband? I would rather die.

Even when Evan was alive, I avoided Jax. Kept my distance. There was something about him that unsettled me-not cruelty, exactly. Something deeper. Sadder, maybe.

I remember the last night I saw Evan. He seemed down, hiding something. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. I kept asking what was wrong, but he couldn't say anything.

Complicated family shit.

I reached the garden and opened the glass door. The fragrance of flowers mingled in the warm air, alluring and sweet.

Then I spotted him.

Dressed in white-shirt and trousers. The trousers were long, decorated with tiny glittering stones. Diamonds, probably.

I saw him from behind. His shoulders seemed broader than I remembered. Taller, too. He faced a red rose, examining it like it held secrets.

I stopped, took a breath, and tightened the rope on my white robe. Then I walked closer, ready to face my captor, my almost-husband, my prison.

He heard my footsteps. Slowly, he looked back at me.

The sun cast a perfect beam of light across his face. He wore black sunglasses. But those lips-I'd seen them before.

He removed the sunglasses.

The real face emerged.

Not Jax.

Him. The man who rescued me.

My mind crashed.

This wasn't Jax's mansion. This was his home. The stranger who pulled me from Kaint's grip, who drove me through the night, who carried me to this room and covered me in silk-

He wasn't Jax's man.

He was someone else entirely.

But who?

I stood frozen, my heart pounding, my mind racing through possibilities that made no sense.

"Who are you?"

My voice came out mixed-eagerness and surprise tangled together with something else. Something that felt dangerously like hope.

I asked him slowly, afraid of the answer.

Afraid it might shatter the only good thing that had happened to me in years.