Alice's POV
I didn't go to Pier 49.
At 11:45 PM, I'd stood outside my apartment building with my jacket on, keys in hand, ready to meet the father who was supposedly dead. Ready to get answers.
Then I'd remembered: people who want to help you don't send threatening messages at midnight. They don't warn you about poison. They don't hide in shadows.
They meet you in daylight, in public places, with proof.
So I'd gone back inside, locked every door, and stayed up all night with a knife under my pillow and my phone in my hand, waiting for something terrible to happen.
Nothing did.
But now, at 10 AM, standing behind the counter of Murphy's Diner with coffee stains on my apron and four hours of sleep in my system, I was starting to wonder if I'd made a mistake.
"Table six needs a refill!" Murphy barked from the kitchen.
I grabbed the coffee pot and forced a smile. I'd gotten this job three days ago—cash under the table, no questions asked. Murphy was a grumpy old man who didn't care about resumes or references, just whether you showed up and worked hard.
It was perfect for someone trying to disappear.
I refilled table six, cleared table three, and was heading back to the counter when I saw it through the window: a black car pulling up to the curb. Not just any car—the kind that cost more than this entire diner. Sleek. Expensive. Dangerous.
My heart stopped.
The driver's door opened, and a man in a perfect suit stepped out. Even from inside, even through the dirty window, I recognized him immediately.
Miles.
He looked different than he had that night—harder, colder, more powerful. His suit was sharp enough to cut, his expression unreadable behind dark sunglasses. He looked like he owned the world and everyone in it.
He looked exactly like what he was: a billionaire CEO.
And he was walking straight toward the diner.
"No." I backed away from the window. "No, no, no—"
"Alice?" Murphy called. "You okay?"
I wasn't. Miles pushed through the door, and every head in the diner turned. He didn't belong here—didn't belong in this neighborhood, in this building, in my new life.
His eyes found me immediately, and even behind those sunglasses, I felt the impact like a physical blow.
"Alice." His voice was quiet, but it carried. Everyone was staring now. "We need to talk."
"I'm working." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "You should leave."
"I've been searching everywhere for you." He took off his sunglasses, and those golden eyes locked onto mine. Intense. Desperate. "For five weeks. Do you know what that's been like?"
"I don't care—"
"Your phone is disconnected. Your apartment is abandoned. You quit both your jobs. You disappeared completely." He moved closer, and I saw something wild in his expression. Something that looked like fear. "I thought something happened to you. I thought—"
"What do you want?" I cut him off.
He glanced around at all the watching faces, then back at me. "Not here. Come outside. Please. Five minutes."
"No."
"Alice—"
"I said no!" My hands were shaking. "You don't get to show up after five weeks and demand anything from me. You lied. You manipulated me. You—"
"I know." His jaw clenched. "I know I hurt you. I know you hate me. But this is bigger than us. This is about—" His eyes dropped to my stomach for just a second. "This is about your safety."
Ice flooded my veins. "How did you—"
"Five minutes." His voice went hard. "Outside. Now. Or I'll say everything I need to say right here in front of all these people."
Murphy stepped forward, spatula in hand like a weapon. "The lady said no, buddy. Time to leave."
Miles didn't even look at him. "Alice. Please."
I hated that word. Hated how it made me remember the last time he'd said it—in his penthouse, when everything felt real.
"Fine." I ripped off my apron and threw it on the counter. "Five minutes. That's it."
Outside, the morning air was cold against my flushed face. Miles stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, looking like he was choosing his words carefully.
"How did you find me?" I demanded.
"I hired investigators. The best ones." He said it like it was obvious. "I've had people searching for you since the day you blocked my number. I needed to know you were safe."
"Safe? Or controlled?" I crossed my arms. "Just like how you're controlling my mother's inheritance? Making me meet with you to get my own money?"
"That wasn't my choice—"
"Nothing is ever your choice, is it? It's always someone else's plan. My mother's plan. Some mysterious trustee arrangement." I stepped closer, angry now. "Tell me the truth. Did you know I'd get pregnant? Did my mother plan that too?"
His face went pale. "What? No. Alice, how could anyone plan—"
"Then why did she leave instructions about it?" I demanded. "Linda said my mother predicted 'certain circumstances.' She knew, Miles. Somehow, she knew this would happen."
He stared at me for a long moment. "Your mother didn't predict the pregnancy."
"Then how—"
"She predicted that if I ever found you, I wouldn't be able to let you go." His voice dropped. "She knew me better than I knew myself. She knew that if I spent even one night with you, everything would change."
My breath caught.
"I've been looking for you my entire life," Miles continued, his eyes burning into mine. "Not because of your mother. Not because of some plan. Because the night my parents died, my mother's last words to me were: 'Find Helena's daughter. Promise me you'll protect her. Promise me.'"
"Helena?" I whispered.
"Your mother's real name. Before she changed it. Before she went into hiding." He took a step closer. "She was my mother's best friend. My godmother. And when she disappeared twenty-five years ago, pregnant and terrified, my mother made me swear I'd find you someday. Protect you. Keep you safe from—"
"From what?" I demanded.
"From your father." His expression turned dark. "The man who's been sending you messages. The man who wants to meet you at midnight in dark places. The man who killed my parents to get to your mother."
The world tilted. "That's impossible. My father is—"
"Not dead. Very much alive. And very, very dangerous." Miles pulled out his phone and showed me a photo. A man in his fifties, handsome, cold-eyed. "His name is Richard Zhao. He runs one of the largest crime syndicates on the East Coast. Your mother testified against him twenty-five years ago and disappeared into witness protection with you in her womb. He's been searching for her—for you—ever since."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
"The baby you're carrying?" Miles's voice went soft. "It's not just my child. It's the grandchild of the woman who destroyed Richard Zhao's empire. It's leverage. It's revenge. It's everything he needs to rebuild what your mother took from him."
"No." I backed away. "This is insane. You're lying—"
"I wish I was." He grabbed my hand, his grip gentle but firm. "Alice, why do you think your mother kicked you out five years ago? Because she was cruel? Or because Richard's people had finally tracked her down and she needed to push you away to keep you safe?"
Tears burned my eyes. "She was protecting me?"
"She loved you so much she made you hate her. She died alone rather than risk leading Richard to you." Miles pulled me closer. "And now he knows. About the baby. About the inheritance. About everything. That meeting last night? It was a trap. If you'd gone to that pier, you'd be gone right now. Forever."
My knees went weak. Miles caught me, his arms steady and strong around my waist.
"I know you don't trust me," he whispered against my hair. "I know I hurt you. But I swear on my parents' graves—I will protect you. Both of you. With my life if necessary."
I wanted to push him away. Wanted to run. But my body was shaking too hard, and his arms were the only thing keeping me standing.
"Why?" I asked brokenly. "Why do you care so much?"
"Because my mother's dying wish was that I find you." His voice cracked. "And because when I finally did, I fell in love with you."
Before I could respond, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and his whole body went rigid.
"What?" I asked. "What is it?"
He showed me the screen. A text with a photo attached.
My new apartment building. My floor. My door.
The message read: Found her. Moving in now.
Miles's eyes met mine, and I saw pure terror in them. "We need to go. Right now."
"What? Why—"
A black SUV screeched around the corner. Then another. Men in dark suits poured out, guns visible under their jackets.
Miles shoved me behind him, his body a shield. "Alice, when I say run, you run. Understand?"
"Miles—"
"Whatever happens," he said fiercely, "protect our baby. Promise me."
One of the men raised his gun.
Everything exploded into chaos.