The freezing rain felt like sharp needles hitting Tina's skin. She ran down the muddy mountain road. Aidan kept a tight grip on her wrist, pulling her forward.

Every step sent a violent shockwave of pain up Tina's spine. The metallic taste of blood coated the back of her throat. She swallowed hard, trying not to choke on it.

Aidan was old, and his breathing was ragged. But he did not slow down. He yelled over the sound of the storm, telling her they had to reach the interstate highway at the bottom of the hill.

A loud engine roar cut through the sound of the rain. Two sets of blinding headlights pierced the darkness behind them. Two black SUVs were speeding down the mountain road, heading straight for them.

The lead SUV slammed on its brakes. The tires slid in the mud, blocking the narrow road completely. Four bodyguards jumped out into the rain. They flicked open steel switchblades. They formed a circle around Tina and Aidan.

The head bodyguard wiped the rain from his face. He stepped closer. He smiled and said the madam gave clear orders. Someone had to die tonight.

Aidan raised the shotgun again. He aimed it at the man's face and pulled the trigger. A hollow click sounded. The rainwater had soaked the gunpowder. The gun was useless.

The bodyguard laughed out loud. He lunged forward and kicked the heavy wooden stock of the gun. The weapon flew out of Aidan's hands and clattered onto the asphalt.

Tina screamed. She threw herself at the bodyguard. She tried to use her nails and teeth to keep him away from the old man. The man simply pulled his arm back and punched her hard in the stomach.

All the air left Tina's lungs. She dropped to her knees in the muddy water. Her stomach cramped so violently she could not even gasp for breath.

The bodyguard stood over her. He raised the switchblade high, aiming the sharp point right at the center of her chest.

Aidan let out a desperate yell. He threw his entire body weight forward, landing directly on top of Tina just as the blade came down.

A sickening, wet sound echoed in the night. The steel blade sank deep into Aidan's back.

Aidan let out a low grunt. Hot blood poured from the wound instantly. It mixed with the cold rain, turning the puddle beneath them a dark, horrifying red.

Tina's eyes stretched wide. She stared at the man who had protected her since she was a baby. He was sliding off her, his body going limp. A raw, tearing scream ripped from her throat.

The bodyguard pulled the bloody knife out of Aidan's back. He turned his attention back to Tina. She was completely frozen, her eyes empty. He raised the blade again.

Suddenly, a row of massive, intimidating matrix headlights lit up the highway ahead. The bright beams cut through the storm like a physical force.

Six identical, bulletproof Maybachs rolled to a stop, completely blocking the rest of the road. They moved silently, like ghosts in the night.

The bodyguards stopped moving. The sheer presence of the convoy made them freeze. They raised their hands to shield their eyes from the blinding lights.

The rear door of the middle, extended Maybach slowly opened. A black carbon-fiber umbrella was pushed out into the rain.

Long legs clad in custom-tailored trousers stepped out. Ingram Santiago, the CEO of the Santiago Corporation, planted his expensive leather shoes onto the wet asphalt.

Ingram wore a solid black suit. His eyes were like glacial ice. He slowly scanned the blood on the ground and the men holding knives.

His executive assistant, Palmer, stood right behind him holding the umbrella. Palmer lowered his head and asked quietly if they should clear the garbage blocking the road.

The bodyguards finally saw the specific crest on the Maybach license plates. Their faces drained of color. Their legs started to shake. They backed away slowly.

Ingram did not look at the men. His eyes locked onto the girl lying in the muddy water. She was barely breathing.

Tina forced her eyes open. Her vision was blurry. She saw the man standing above her. She reached out with a trembling, blood-soaked hand. She grabbed the fabric of his suit pants. She squeezed it weakly.

Ingram looked down. He saw the extreme, desperate will to live in her eyes. Something tight pulled at the center of his chest.

He opened his mouth and said one word. "Down." Instantly, the heavily armed security personnel from the convoy drew their weapons. They forced Cathi's bodyguards face-down into the mud.

Aidan turned his head slightly. He saw that Tina was safe. His chest stopped moving. His eyes closed. He was gone.

Tina stared at Aidan's still face. The last string holding her sanity together snapped. Her eyes rolled back, and she passed out completely at Ingram's feet.

Ingram did not hesitate. He bent down. He ignored the mud and the blood. He scooped the unconscious girl up into his arms.

As he lifted her, a small object slipped out of her wet pocket. It fell into the muddy puddle with a tiny splash.

Ingram caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked down. His pupils shrank to pinpricks. His breathing stopped completely.

He held the girl against his chest with one arm. He bent his knees and reached into the cold mud. He picked up the small, pink dolphin charm. His thumb instantly found the letters carved into the back. T.T.

Ingram's eyes darkened. The coldness vanished, replaced by a terrifying intensity. He turned to Palmer. He ordered the convoy to return to the penthouse immediately. He told him to get the best medical team in the city waiting there.

The Maybach convoy sped through the empty streets. It pulled into the private underground garage of a luxury apartment building next to Central Park. The security team had already cleared the entire area.

The car door opened. Ingram stepped out. He was still carrying Tina in his arms. Her blood had soaked completely through his expensive suit jacket, staining his white shirt underneath. He walked straight into his private elevator.

The elevator shot up to the penthouse. The doors slid open. Mrs. Wallace, the senior housekeeper, stood in the foyer. When she saw the blood, she slapped both hands over her mouth in shock.

Ingram ignored her. He walked with long, fast strides down the hallway. He kicked the door of the largest guest room open and gently laid Tina down on the massive bed.

Julian Ashford, one of the top surgeons in the country, rushed into the room carrying a heavy medical case. He was complaining about the rain, but as he pulled on his sterile gloves, he saw the girl.

Julian saw the blood on the bed and the blood covering Ingram. He stopped talking immediately. He opened his case and pulled out trauma shears.

Ingram stood rigidly by the side of the bed. He refused to step back. His eyes were glued to Tina's face. Her skin was the color of dirty snow.

Julian cut away the ruined, wet fabric of Tina's shirt. He exposed her back and stomach. Massive, dark purple bruises covered her skin. Julian's jaw tightened.

He looked up at Ingram. He said her ribs were broken. He said she had internal damage. He told Ingram that if he had brought her in ten minutes later, she would have bled to death from the inside.

Ingram heard those words. The muscles in his jaw ticked. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides.

The surgery took two full hours. Julian wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. He finished the last stitch. He let out a long breath and said she was stable.

Julian pulled off his surgical mask. He looked at Ingram. He asked who this girl was and why Ingram was standing there looking like he was ready to murder someone.

Ingram did not answer the question. He stared at Julian and told him he was sleeping on the couch tonight. He ordered him to monitor her vitals every hour.

Julian rolled his eyes, packed up his bloody tools, and walked out to the living room. He closed the door behind him.

Ingram was finally alone with her. He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window. He looked down at the bright lights of Manhattan. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the muddy dolphin charm.

He took a clean white handkerchief from his inside pocket. He slowly wiped the mud off the plastic surface. He rubbed the dirt out of the grooves on the bottom until the letters T.T. were perfectly clear.

A soft knock came from the door. Palmer walked in. He held a thin, encrypted tablet. He handed it to Ingram.

Palmer kept his voice low. He reported that the girl's name was Tina Valenzuela. He said she had been violently kicked out of her family estate by her aunt just a few hours ago.

When Ingram heard the name Tina, his fingers clamped down hard on the small charm. The plastic dug into his skin. His knuckles turned completely white.

Memories from thirteen years ago crashed into his brain. The smell of smoke. The heat of the fire. The tiny five-year-old girl who dragged his bleeding body out of the wreckage. Her name was Tina.

Palmer kept talking. He said her mother had just died. He said her cousin broke the urn containing the ashes tonight. He confirmed the old man who died on the road was the family butler.

Ingram's breathing grew heavy. A dark, violent anger burned in his chest. The air in the room felt thick and suffocating.

Palmer asked if he should call the police and report the Valenzuela family for murder.

Ingram let out a cold, harsh laugh. He said the police were too easy. He said he was going to make them bleed for every single thing they did to her.

Ingram turned away from the window. He walked back to the bed. He stood over Tina, looking down at her sleeping face.

He reached out. His long fingers gently brushed the damp hair away from her forehead. His touch was incredibly light.

Her eyebrows were pulled together in pain. Her lips were dry and cracked. She looked so small and fragile against the white pillows.

Ingram's eyes slowly moved down. He looked at the edge of the thick white bandage taped just below her collarbone. His chest tightened.

He knew what was under there. He knew the girl who saved him had a pale pink birthmark shaped like a dolphin right on that spot.

He hovered his fingers over the edge of the medical tape. He wanted to rip it off. He wanted to see it. But he stopped. He pulled his hand back and curled it into a fist.

He would not do it while she was unconscious. He would wait for her to open her eyes.

Julian poked his head into the room. He yawned and told Ingram he smelled like a slaughterhouse and needed to change his clothes.

Ingram turned and walked toward the bathroom. Right before he closed the door, he looked back at the bed one last time.

The look in his eyes was not the look of a cold CEO. It was the look of a man who had been starving for thirteen years and finally found food.

He stepped into the shower. The hot water washed the blood down the drain, but it could not wash away the heavy feeling in his chest.

The morning sun hit the smart glass of the windows. The glass automatically dimmed, casting a soft light across the room. Tina slowly opened her eyes.

She stared at the high ceiling. The fabric of the blanket felt too soft. She realized she was not in the rain. Panic hit her instantly. She pushed herself up. A sharp, burning pain shot through her ribs. She gasped and grabbed her side.

Mrs. Wallace heard the noise. She hurried into the room holding a silver tray with a glass of warm water and two white pills. She smiled warmly at Tina.

Tina pushed herself backward until her back hit the headboard. She pulled the blanket up to her chin. Her throat was completely dry. She forced out a raspy whisper, asking where she was and where Aidan was.

Mrs. Wallace stopped smiling. Her eyes filled with pity. She set the tray down. She spoke softly, telling Tina that the old man did not make it. She said Mr. Santiago brought her here to save her.

The words hit Tina like a physical blow. Aidan was dead. The tears came instantly. They spilled over her eyelashes and ran down her cheeks. She bit down hard on the edge of the blanket to stop herself from screaming. Her shoulders shook violently.

Heavy, measured footsteps sounded in the hallway. The door opened wider. Ingram walked in. He was wearing dark blue loungewear.

Tina looked up through her tears. She saw a tall, broad-shouldered man. His face was sharp and handsome, but his presence filled the entire room, making it hard to breathe.

Ingram walked to the side of the bed. He looked down at her. His face was completely blank, but a muscle in his jaw twitched.

Tina swallowed the lump in her throat. Her voice shook as she forced the words out. She told him thank you for saving her life.

Ingram pulled a chair out and sat down. He crossed his legs. He looked at her and said the Valenzuela family had already released a public statement. They told the press she ran away from home.

Tina let out a dry, bitter laugh. The sadness in her eyes was quickly swallowed by pure hatred. She gripped the blanket tighter. She said they were just covering up the murder.

Ingram watched her. He liked the fire in her eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the clean dolphin charm. He placed it on the wooden nightstand next to her.

Tina gasped. She lunged forward, ignoring the pain in her chest. She grabbed the plastic charm and closed her fist around it tightly. She pressed her hand against her heart.

Ingram leaned back in his chair. He kept his voice flat. He asked her if that cheap piece of plastic was really that important.

Tina looked down at her hand. She said it was a protection charm from someone very important to her. She said she would die before she lost it.

Ingram heard those words. The corner of his mouth lifted. It was a tiny movement, barely there, but his eyes darkened with satisfaction.

He stood up. He looked down at her and stated a fact. He told her she was staying in this apartment until her bones healed. He said it was not a request.

Tina opened her mouth to argue. She did not want charity. But she looked into his eyes. They were cold and hard. She closed her mouth and nodded once.

Ingram turned and left the room.

An hour later, Ingram walked into the private lounge of the most exclusive country club in Manhattan.

Montgomery Astor was sitting on a velvet sofa, swirling a glass of red wine. He was grinning. Sterling Thorne sat across from him, staring at his phone with a raised eyebrow.

Montgomery laughed loudly. He said he heard a rumor that the ice-cold CEO of Santiago Corp actually carried a bleeding woman into his building last night.

Sterling looked up. He warned Montgomery to shut up. He said Ingram's building required a background check just to deliver groceries. If a woman was inside, it was serious.

Montgomery took a sip of wine. He joked that she must be a corporate spy who pulled off a great stunt to get into his bed.

The heavy mahogany doors of the lounge swung open. Ingram walked in. His face was expressionless. He buttoned his suit jacket with long fingers.

He looked at the men in the room. The temperature in the lounge dropped instantly. Montgomery stopped laughing. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable.

Montgomery cleared his throat. He tried to smile. He asked Ingram if the rumors about the girl were true.

Ingram walked over to the bar. He poured two fingers of whiskey into a glass. He turned around and stared directly at Montgomery. His eyes were dead.

He spoke in a low, dangerous voice. He told them to keep their mouths shut. He said if anyone in this city tried to look into her background, he would personally destroy their family business.

The men in the room stopped breathing. They stared at Ingram in shock. They realized instantly that this girl was completely off-limits.

Ingram raised the glass and drank the whiskey in one swallow. The alcohol burned his throat, but all he could think about was the way Tina had clutched that charm to her chest.

He set the glass down hard on the wooden counter. He was going to build a wall around her, and no one was going to touch her.