Roe's pov
In the depths of despair, when the world had turned its back and silence was my only companion—he appeared. A stranger, offering me food.
Who does that anymore? Who cares enough to show up when no one else does?
How did he even know I needed help?
I hesitated. My mind raced. Could there be something in the food? If there was, I'd be doomed. But something in his eyes—quiet, calm, strangely familiar—made me want to trust him.
So I did.
We walked side by side down the empty street, no words exchanged. Just the rhythmic sound of footsteps and a strange comfort in his presence.
At the end of the road, a car rolled up—sleek, low, and crimson like spilled wine. A red Lamborghini.
Without a word, we both got in. No small talk. Just glances—sharp, knowing, as if we'd met long ago in another life.
Despite being intelligent, I tend to overthink. I'm quiet. Introverted. I don't follow people easily. But something about him made it effortless. I followed.
The drive took us beyond the chaos of the city, to the edge of something surreal. A palace-like structure emerged, carved in white marble, perched by the sea. The moon cast shimmering violet and blue reflections across the water. The night was hushed, almost sacred. Peaceful.
The car slowed to a stop at the grand entrance.
The door opened. He stepped out. I followed.
"Hey..." I said, my voice low, unsure, yet filled with a strange reverence. "Would you mind telling me your name?"
He paused, glancing at me, unreadable. Then replied:
"Yeah."
A beat of silence.
"Marwa."
A chill ran down my spine.
Marwa... The name echoed in my head like a warning bell. The most dangerous person in the city. The name you don't say out loud. The one you avoid, no matter what.
I didn't speak. I just kept walking beside him—drawn in, intrigued, and uncertain.