When consciousness returned, Juliana's eyes landed on the sweaty, bloated face of Rocco leering over her.

Without thinking, she lashed out—a sharp slap caught his cheek, and her foot drove him off the mattress.

Panic shot through her as she scrambled upright and bolted for the door.

Just yesterday, she'd ended up in a stranger's bed. Now, here she was, trapped and forced to face Rocco. Despair and anger tangled in her chest.

Rocco was already back on his feet, his lips curling in an ugly grin. "You've got some fire. I like that."

Before she could get far, he snatched her wrist and tossed her back onto the bed. "Did I say you could leave? You're not going anywhere."

The soft mattress caught her, keeping her from getting hurt.

As he closed in, her gaze darted to a lamp on the nightstand—old-fashioned, with a jagged tip.

Quick as lightning, Juliana snatched the lamp, brought it crashing down on Rocco's head, and then drove the pointed edge into his chest.

Rocco howled, pure rage twisting his face. He had expected obedience, not this kind of resistance. "You bitch!"

Despite his injury, he lunged for her, but Juliana delivered a swift kick to his chest that left him gasping for air.

"You're not escaping that easily!"

Ignoring his threats, Juliana sprinted for the door. Her heart pounded as she hit the living room of the hotel suite—only to spot a figure stationed by the front entrance, blocking her escape.

It made sense now—Rocco's smugness wasn't just boldness. If she went for the main exit, his man would have her pinned and hauled straight back.

A glance at the neighboring balcony sparked a desperate idea. It hung just three feet away—close enough to reach if she moved fast and prayed for luck.

However, she was on the eighteenth floor. One misstep, and there would be nothing but empty air to catch her.

No other options remained.

After what she'd done to Rocco, she knew he'd never let her walk away alive.

Determined, Juliana ripped the heavy curtains from the rod and tore them into wide, sturdy strips, knotting them into a makeshift rope before tying one end to the table leg. Every second counted as she scrambled toward the window.

If she could just make it to the other side, maybe she would finally break free.

The dizzying drop below made her pulse race, fear clawing at her with every second.

There were no safer routes left to consider.

Escape meant risking everything now.

Step by step, Juliana edged up to the open window, steadying her breath. She stretched out, fingers barely brushing the metal railing across the gap when the door behind her burst open.

Rocco stumbled out of the bedroom and shouted, "You've got some nerve, bitch! Think you can just hurt me and walk away?"

Panic gripped Juliana, twisting tighter with every word.

Knife in hand, Rocco advanced, blade gleaming as he hacked at her makeshift rope.

She saw her chance slipping away and, heart pounding, hurled herself toward the neighboring balcony without another thought.

She clung desperately to the railing, arms trembling as her grip started to slip. The longer she hung there, the closer she came to falling.

Rocco peered over the edge, malice flashing in his eyes. "Running won't save you. Once I get my hands on you, you'll wish you hadn't tried."

After spitting out his threat, he disappeared back inside, footsteps fading fast.

It dawned on Juliana what he meant to do—he was headed next door to cut off her escape.

With nothing but empty space beneath and danger closing in from above, fear threatened to swallow her whole. Was this really how her story would end?

Hopelessness crept in, heavy and cold.

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for whatever came next.

A voice drifted up from below, light and amused. "Are you in the middle of some daredevil training, or should I call for backup?"

The unexpected sound jolted Juliana, and she looked down to see a stranger watching from his balcony.

Something about the sight—a lifeline she hadn't counted on—brought tears to her eyes. "Please, I need help. Can you reach me?"

Braydon flicked away his cigarette, wearing an easy grin. "I'm not really in the habit of helping damsels for nothing. Tell me, what's in it for me?"

"Just help me, please! I'll do whatever you ask," begged Juliana, desperation coloring her voice.

Her arms ached, and her fingers threatened to give way at any second.

Braydon regarded her, a thoughtful look in his eyes. After a moment's pause, he smirked and replied, "Whatever I ask, huh? How about being my woman?"

Looking down, Juliana's stomach lurched at the sheer drop below. Every instinct screamed at her to make a decision, but her grip finally gave out before she could speak.

The world seemed to tilt as she slipped, weightless and powerless to stop her fall.

Acceptance settled in—a sense that there was no way out after all.

Her eyes shut tightly, bracing for the end.

A strong hand seized hers mid-air, hauling her up with surprising ease.

She landed against a chest that smelled faintly of tobacco and leather.

"Well, I have to admit, letting go was a bold move," Braydon teased, a playful edge in his voice as he slid an arm securely around her waist, his gaze flickering with amusement. Despite their recent encounter, this woman didn't recognize him at all.

Blinking in the aftermath, Juliana really saw him for the first time—strikingly handsome, almost ethereal, with features that seemed carved from marble and an effortless, icy confidence.

His gaze lingered with a lazy spark, inviting curiosity. Every detail—from the curve of his lips to the sharpness of his jaw and the faint bob of his Adam's apple—drew her in against her will.

Recognition tugged at the edge of her memory, but the link remained just out of reach.

Her pulse hammered in her ears. Men who tossed out flirty remarks without hesitation were always dangerous.

Determined to steady herself, Juliana slipped from his hold and took a cautious step back. "I appreciate what you did for me. I'll make sure you're repaid."

Staying here wasn't an option. Sooner or later, Rocco would figure out where she had gone.

She went for the door, but Braydon's cool, steady voice halted her. "You really think just running will solve your problems?"

She glanced back, suspicious. "What are you getting at?"

"You made quite a scene up there, you know. I could hear everything from my place." A hint of amusement flickered across his face as he drew closer. "Haven't you thought about fighting back?"

Juliana eyed him warily, chewing the inside of her cheek. "Are you saying you'll help me?"

Someone able to speak so confidently might actually have the power to handle Rocco—and maybe Johnny, too.

Hiding wouldn't keep them away forever. One slip, and they'd track her down again.

Braydon's tone turned low and persuasive. "If you want to make them disappear from your life, I can make that happen."

A shout echoed from above, Rocco's voice blurting out, "She's not here! Search below!"

Juliana stiffened, every muscle taut. At last, she raised her head and fixed Braydon with a searching gaze. "Suppose I agree. How exactly do you plan to help me?"

Only now did she really notice the expensive details in his appearance—a suit tailored to perfection, quiet confidence in every line, a silk navy tie draped across the sofa.

Recognition struck. She'd seen that tie behind glass at a luxury shop. Anyone who could casually toss aside something that costly had influence to spare.

Braydon said nothing, simply pressing something cold and heavy into Juliana's palm. "Take this."

Her eyes widened as she glanced down. It was a gun.

Instinct made her try to pull away, but Braydon's hand covered hers, making sure the weapon stayed in her grasp.

His breath was warm at her ear as he murmured, "Kill them, and you'll never have to worry about them again."

Fear crept into her voice. "If I do that, I'll go down with them. That's murder..."

A low, careless laugh escaped him. "You're not alone. I'll handle everything."

Juliana searched his face and saw nothing but cold resolve. He wasn't bluffing.

Anyone who could talk about killing so calmly was far more dangerous than she'd ever imagined.

For the first time, she realized she might have crossed paths with someone truly ruthless.

"Open the door, now!" The pounding shook the frame, loud enough to rattle Juliana's nerves.

She shot a worried glance at Braydon, her pulse jumping.

He leaned close, his voice steady. "Relax. The gun's got a silencer. No one will hear a thing outside."

His breath grazed her ear, and a shiver crawled down her spine.

"If you don't open up, we're coming in!" another voice shouted, followed by a violent kick that made the hinges groan. The seconds stretched, heavy and endless.

Braydon patiently showed her the right way to handle the gun, making sure she knew how to load it and pull the trigger. By the time the door crashed open, she was already steady, aiming straight at the group barging in.

"Where are you going to hide now, you bitch!" one of the men cursed, but once he saw the barrel aimed at his chest, the words stuck in his throat.

"All that talk, but now you're suddenly quiet." Braydon gave them a look, his voice sharp and cold.

Despite their boldness, the intruders edged away from the muzzle, refusing to let their fear show. "What, you expect us to believe that's a real gun? Somebody grab her!"

One of the men rushed forward, and Braydon didn't hesitate. He squeezed the trigger. The gun fired with a loud snap, and the bullet tore into the man's thigh, sending a streak of blood across the floor.

There was no mistaking it now—this was no imitation.

The moment the shot rang out, Juliana's head turned around to Braydon in shock. That wasn't her intention at all.

He had been the one to guide her hand the whole time.

"You..." Juliana tried to speak, but her words broke off as she stared at him.

Braydon's lips curled into an easy smile. "Now they know not to mess with you."

Those standing before her grew cautious, uncertain if they should advance. The gun never wavered in her grip.

"You've got two choices," said Braydon, finally letting go of her wrist and lounging on the sofa as if nothing had happened. His tone was nonchalant. "Either stand your ground with me, or let them drag you away."

Every second with the gun in her grasp made Juliana's arm ache, yet she knew surrendering to Rocco was out of the question. Escaping from Johnny was just as impossible.

Even if she escaped this time, Johnny would only cook up another scheme, pushing her into Rocco's arms sooner or later.

With her options dwindling, Juliana realized that sticking with this stranger was the only way out.

She steadied herself, determination flickering in her eyes. "Fine. I'll play your game, but you have to give me something first."

"Go ahead." He seemed ready for her answer, his fingers snapping.

Without warning, the door swung shut, and shadows moved in. Men dressed in black stepped out from the corners, hemming in Rocco's crew with practiced precision.

No one put up a fight. They fell to their knees, defeated in an instant.

That was when Juliana's eyes flicked to the men in black. Each one had a handgun drawn and ready.

A jolt of panic ran through her.

Clips from old crime movies flashed in her mind. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine living out such a dangerous bargain. It was as if she had shaken hands with the devil himself.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she forced her words out, saying, "I want cash. Lots of it."

Braydon agreed with barely a thought. "Tell me how much."

His quick acceptance caught Juliana off guard. Since he made no fuss, she saw no reason to hold back.

"I need a million."

It was enough for Laura's operation, but she doubted he'd say yes.

A sum like that would make most people hesitate, especially given they were practically strangers.

Without missing a beat, he signaled to the young guy at his side, who called him "Mr. Morgan" before handing Juliana a sleek black credit card.

She stared at Braydon, confusion written on her face. "You..."

"There's no limit. Spend whatever you want." He rose from his seat, gently tipping her chin up with one finger. "Stick with me, and you'll never have to worry again."

Juliana studied his face, unsettled by the feeling that their paths had crossed before, though she couldn't quite place when or where.

The memory slipped through her fingers, so she simply murmured, "Thank you."

"I'll have Henrik find a place for you tomorrow. Anything comes up, just call him." As he spoke, he took her phone and entered his own details himself.

Henrik Briggs, the young man who had been quietly standing by his side, gave a respectful nod.

Taking her phone back, Juliana noticed a new name added to her contacts.

Braydon Morgan.

The name meant nothing to her. Maybe she was just imagining the sense of familiarity.

She managed a nod. "Am I free to leave now?"

"What should I do about them?" Braydon's eyes flickered toward the defeated group, his tone casual.

After a moment's thought, Juliana spoke. "They're only lackeys. Let them off easy. The real troublemakers aren't here."

Johnny and Rocco were the ones she truly wanted.

A quick nod from Braydon sent Henrik to round up the group and escort them out. He patted the seat beside him, a silent invitation. "Sit here."

Juliana wavered before moving over, settling in beside him. She called out respectfully, "Mr. Morgan."

Braydon gave a short nod. "So, what did you do to make them so angry?"

"My boyfriend tried to pass me off to his superior, but he messed up and sent me to the wrong room instead." Juliana's gaze dropped, her fingers curling into a tight fist.

The betrayal stung all over again.

No one had hurt her as much as Johnny—not even Rocco.

Braydon's lips curled into a half-smile at the mention of her boyfriend. "Aren't you itching to get some revenge?"

Without hesitating, Juliana straightened, a fierce light in her eyes. "I'm not letting him get away with it. He's going to regret every bit of it."

Reaching for her hand, Braydon guided her toward the door.

She shot him a questioning look. "Where are we headed?"

"We're going to make your boyfriend pay."