The night was heavy, soaked in rain and regret. Brooklyn's streets shimmered with puddles of light from flickering signs and tired traffic. Somewhere between the shadows of the city walked Kani—a girl of twenty, thin as breath, her eyes hollow, her voice long forgotten. No one noticed her anymore, and maybe that was safer.
She moved quickly, silently, as though afraid the ground itself might scream her name. Her silence wasn't quiet—it was sharp, a weapon. People whispered about her, made up stories. They said she disappeared for three days last winter. Said she came back wrong.
No one knew the truth.
But he did.
Reven sat in a black car just across the street, hidden behind tinted glass and darker thoughts. He had watched her for days now—watched the way she avoided eye contact, the way her hands shook when someone came too close. And every time he saw her, he felt the guilt press deeper into his chest.
He had taken her.
He hadn't meant to. Not like that. Not for ransom, not for revenge. It was something else entirely—something even he didn't understand. She had been at the wrong place, maybe. Or maybe it was fate. But in his cold, ruthless world, Kani was the only soft thing he never meant to break.
She hadn't screamed when he locked the door. Hadn't begged. She had only stared at him with those broken eyes like she'd seen monsters before—and he was just another one.
And then, after seventy-two hours, he let her go.
But freedom was never free.
Now, she walked the same streets, carrying ghosts inside her bones, and Reven couldn't stop watching her. Not out of obsession—but out of a punishment he gave himself. A reminder. Every step she took was another echo of what he'd done. He had left the mafia life, built a legal empire of cold towers and fake smiles, but none of that erased the look in her eyes.
And tonight, something felt off.
Kani stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Her body went still.
Reven sat up straighter. Behind her, a shadow moved.
Not him.
Someone else.
A man too close. A hand reaching. Kani stepped back, bumping into a wall. Her breath quickened, chest rising and falling like she couldn't breathe.
Reven was out of the car in seconds.
He didn't hesitate.
The man vanished into the night before Reven could reach him, but Kani was still there—shaking, trapped between memory and danger. She looked at him then. Really looked.
Their eyes met.
He said nothing. She said nothing.
But the silence between them was louder than ever.
And this time, Reven swore—it would not end in pain.