Damien Wolfe.
The name filled my head like a heavy stone sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I had never been this close to him, never even dared to think I would be. People like Damien lived in magazines, headlines, and whispers, not in the middle of a rainy street with someone like me. But there he was. Solid. Real. Too real.
He looked at me as if the storm had placed me in front of him on purpose, like fate itself had shoved me into his path. His dark suit was sharp, almost glowing against the blur of rain. His eyes, steady and cold, seemed to catch everything about me—the way my hands trembled, the way my shoulders tried to hold the weight of a heartbreak that was too big to carry.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said. His voice was calm, but not soft. It was the kind of calm that made the air feel tighter, like thunder was waiting just beyond the clouds.
I wrapped my arms around myself. I didn't want him to see me shake. I didn't want him to think I was weak, not him, not anyone. "I'm not your concern," I said, my words thin but sharp.
He didn't blink. He didn't flinch. He only tilted his head slightly, like he was listening to a song no one else could hear. "Ethan's mistake is my opportunity."
The sound of Ethan's name was a knife to my chest. I bit down on the pain, forcing the tears back. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I know enough." Damien's tone was maddeningly certain, as if everything he said was law. "I know he underestimated you. I know he thought cutting you off would make you crawl back. And I know tonight you're standing here with nothing. Tell me I'm wrong."
My lips parted, ready to argue, but no sound came out. The truth sat like fire on my tongue. I had nothing. No cards that worked, no money, no place to go. My silence was all the answer he needed.
Damien's eyes sharpened. It wasn't pity, it wasn't kindness—it was recognition. "You see?" he said, lowering his voice. "He doesn't deserve you."
A laugh slipped out of me, bitter and cracked. "You don't even know me."
"I know strength when I see it." He took a step closer. Rain slid down his jawline, but his suit was untouched, like even the storm respected him. "And I know when someone's been cornered. You have two choices, Savannah. You can run, or you can fight."
"I've been fighting my whole life," I said, the words breaking through my throat before I could stop them.
"Then stop fighting alone."
His words landed like stones in my chest. I didn't want to believe him, but my heart betrayed me, pounding so loud I thought he might hear it. I lifted my chin, refusing to bow under his stare. "And what then? You'll save me?"
Damien's mouth curved, not into a smile but into something darker. "No. I don't save people. I offer them a way out. Whether you take it—that's up to you."
The storm blurred the city around us. Lights smeared into colors, the rain washing everything into streaks. My body trembled, not only from the cold, but from the fire in his words. I wanted to reject him, to walk away with my pride intact. But pride didn't buy me food. Pride didn't pay for a roof over my head. Pride wouldn't keep me alive in a world Ethan had just pushed me out of.
My throat ached. My heart felt like it was splitting in two. Pride against desperation. Freedom against survival.
And then, headlights broke through the storm.
A sleek black car rolled to a stop at the curb. My breath caught in my chest before the door even opened. I already knew.
Ethan.
He stepped out with the control of a man who believed the world belonged to him. His suit was flawless, his tie still perfect. His face was carved from stone, cold and unreadable, except for the glint in his eyes when they cut to Damien.
Then they landed on me.
"Savannah." His voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "Get in the car."
The air froze. The storm itself seemed to hold its breath.
Damien didn't move. He didn't even blink. His eyes stayed locked on me, steady and unyielding.
"Choose," he murmured.
The word wrapped around my chest like chains.
I looked at Ethan—the man who had betrayed me in my own bed, who had stripped me of everything I had, who still thought he owned me. His jaw tightened, his posture radiating control, his tone commanding as if I were still his possession.
Then I looked at Damien—this stranger with dangerous promises in his eyes, whose presence felt both terrifying and magnetic. He wasn't offering safety. He wasn't offering comfort. He was offering power, but power always came with a price.
Two men. Two paths. Both dangerous.
My legs shook. My heart pounded so hard I could barely hear the storm. My mind screamed to run, to disappear, to escape them both. But my body stayed frozen in the middle of the street, caught in a spotlight of headlights, rain, and choices I wasn't ready to make.
"Savannah." Ethan's voice hardened, his control slipping into something sharper. "Don't make me ask again."
Damien's gaze didn't waver. His tone was low, steady, pulling me toward him. "If you get in that car, you lose. Forever."
The world narrowed to their voices, their eyes, their power pressing down on me until I could barely breathe.
Conflict twisted inside me. Pride screamed not to crawl back to Ethan. Fear warned not to trust Damien. Desperation begged for escape.
My chest rose and fell fast. I was going to break. I was going to shatter right here in front of them both.
And then...
A shadow moved behind Damien. Quick. Unnoticed. A man in a dark hood stepped out of the alley, his hand slipping something from his pocket. My breath caught. It gleamed under the streetlight.
A knife.
Damien didn't see him. Ethan didn't notice.
But I did.
I screamed at the top of my voice…