**Chapter One: Crimson Rescue**
The city of Velaris was a shimmering illusion by day—steel towers scraping at the sky, polished suits and tailored masks moving through crowds like clockwork. But once the sun dipped behind the skyline, the illusion peeled back. Neon lights flickered on, painting the streets in hues of blood and secrets. That's when the real city came alive—twisting, violent, raw.
Kael Ramsey always walked a fine line between those two worlds.
Tonight, the line was gone. Erased.
The air was thick with the scent of motor oil, wet asphalt, and the iron tang of blood—his own. His right arm throbbed, slick with crimson from a graze that narrowly missed being fatal. His black button-up was torn at the shoulder, his tie lost somewhere back on 9th Street when the first bullet whizzed past him.
The men chasing him weren't amateurs. They were wolves, hired and trained. He knew it the moment the courthouse doors had closed behind him. The chill that crept up his spine wasn't from the cold—it was instinct. A lifetime of working with predators taught him when to run.
And now he was running for his life.
Kael turned a sharp corner into an alley behind a boarded-up jazz bar. Garbage bags were stacked against the wall, and broken bottles crunched underfoot. He pushed off a dumpster to keep his balance, his breath tearing in and out of his lungs in short, ragged gasps.
Shouts echoed behind him—three voices, maybe four. One of them, thick with a Russian accent, barked out orders. Another laughed, high and cruel, like he enjoyed the hunt.
Kael didn't have a weapon. He'd handed over the last illegal firearm he'd confiscated to the police that morning. Irony had a sick sense of humor.
He ducked into another alley, narrower this time. His heart pounded like a war drum, and he cursed the polished leather shoes that were never made for sprinting. Each step threatened to twist his ankle or send him crashing down into the grimy concrete.
But he kept running.
He had to.
The case he'd just won had been the biggest of his career—a miracle in a city where justice was often bought and silenced. Anthony Moretti, the golden son of the most powerful cartel in the region, had finally been dragged into the light. Charged with rape, possession, trafficking, and half a dozen more crimes. Kael had stood in that courtroom and stripped him of his armor, layer by filthy layer, until the jury saw him for what he was.
The gavel had fallen. The sentence was brutal.
And now Kael was paying the price.
Another bullet pinged off the brick wall near his head. He flinched, cursed, and ducked behind a stack of wooden crates. The shouts grew louder. They were closing in.
He risked a glance behind him—one of the men rounded the corner with a knife in his hand, another with a pistol. Both wore nondescript black hoodies and gloves. Professional. Efficient. And very much out for blood.
Kael's options narrowed. No phone. No weapon. No time.
He pressed himself against the wall, hoping the shadows would swallow him whole, when—
Headlights.
Bright, sudden, and blinding.
A low, expensive purr of an engine hummed through the alley like a predator's growl. A black McLaren 720S skidded to a stop just feet away. The sleek beast gleamed even in the dim light, tinted windows glinting like obsidian.
The passenger window rolled down. Slowly. Purposefully.
Kael saw her.
Long black hair tied back in a braid like a silk whip. Pale skin that looked carved from marble. Lips blood-red and full, parted just enough to reveal the curve of a smirk. She wore leather gloves and a black silk blouse, unbuttoned just enough to hint at danger. And her eyes—those eyes—were a storm of silver and shadow.
"Get in," she said.
Kael blinked. "What—?"
"Now, Kael," she said again. Her voice was calm. Commanding. She didn't even look at him when she said it—her gaze remained fixed on the road ahead. On the threat behind.
"How do you—"
"Get in or die. Last warning."
Another shot cracked through the air. It missed Kael by inches, striking the crate where his head had just been.
That decided it.
He bolted for the car, yanked open the door, and dove inside.
The moment the door slammed shut, she hit the gas.
The car roared, tires screeching as it fishtailed out of the alley and back onto the main road. Kael was thrown back into the seat, clutching the door handle with a white-knuckled grip.
Only then did she glance at him. "Buckle up."
He fumbled for the seatbelt. "You mind telling me what the hell is going on? Who *are* you?"
"I'm Aurora," she said simply. Her voice was smooth, cool, and edged with something sharp enough to cut bone.
Kael stared at her. The name sparked something. A whisper. A warning. A shadow that passed through legal files too dangerous to keep in writing.
Aurora.
No last name. Just a myth. A ghost in the underworld. Some said she was the daughter of a Sicilian boss. Others whispered that she'd taken out her father and built her empire from the ashes.
But one thing was certain—Aurora was a name spoken in reverence. Or fear.
And she had just saved his life.
While Aurora was driving Kael could not help but stare...
I mean who wouldn't she's extremely beautiful, Hot, dangerous, with an aura different from every other woman he has ever seen ,Her full Breasts pooping out of her black blouse.
'*if it was other men they would be drooling by now'*
*HEY*!!!!!!
"Aurora "broke his stare .
Why are you staring at me like that??Are you Lost??
I just saved your ass, Pervert...
Kael stuttering...Illlllllll
(He was so confused in his head he had so many questions but didn't know where to start).
"You" what???? Aurora asked with a cold voice....
"Get out" Aurora said with a more colder voice and a death stare.
Huh.....Kael said still stuttering his brain has betrayed him leaving Him speechless.
*Fuck*!! He yelled in his mind.
I said" Get out"Aurora Yelled this time he knew she wasn't playing.
But he still he could not find words to say or rather the words were not coming out.
*Fine... am getting off*. He said with a grin on his face.
Ohhh you can speak?? Aurora asked him.
Kael looked at her without giving a response.
What the fuck is her problem??...
He muttered to himself....
What did you say??....
Aurora asked.
I'm getting off...*Thank you*....
Kael was about getting out when she hit him on the head with the pistol in her left pocket.
"Moron"she said looking at him as he laid in the passenger sit looking dead.