CHAPTER 8
The rain had started long before sunset, a cold, punishing downpour that hammered the rooftops of Crescent Lane without mercy. It wasn't the kind of gentle rain that drummed softly on windows and whispered through leaves. No—this was the kind that felt like nature itself was furious, the sky split open and spilling its anger over the earth.
Inside the cramped two-bedroom apartment, Ruby stood by the doorway, clutching a small nylon purse in her shaking hands, Clara leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded, eyes narrowed with displeasure.
"Why are you still standing?" Clara snapped. "Didn't you hear me the first time?"
Ruby swallowed hard. "It's raining really heavily," she said softly, trying not to let her voice tremble. "Could I maybe wait a bit? Just until it slows down?"
Clara's eyes darkened. "And who will make dinner if you wait? Me? Do I look like a maid?" She clicked her tongue loudly. "Go and buy what I asked for. Now."
Ruby hesitated. Her vision had been blurry for hours; the dizzy spells she'd been having all week were getting worse. But Clara didn't care—not about her, not about how weak she felt, not about the pounding in her head.
"But—"
"But what?" Clara cut her off sharply. "You think you can question me now because you're old? You're nothing here unless I say otherwise. Now take the money and go!"
Vivian lounged on the sofa scrolling through her phone, not even looking up as she added lazily, "Just go, Ruby. You're delaying her."
Ruby's fingers curled tightly around the purse. She murmured a quiet "Okay," and stepped out into the storm.
The moment she opened the door, the wind nearly shoved her backward. Rain slapped her face like cold needles. She took a deep breath, pulled her thin cardigan tighter around herself, and stepped out into the night.
The streets were almost empty—only the sound of rain echoing across the pavement, water rushing into gutters, headlights blurring in the distance.
Her feet splashed through puddles as she walked. Each step felt heavier than the last.
She should have eaten something before leaving. But Clara had insisted she finish all the chores first. The dizziness hit again, harder this time, and Ruby paused, pressing her palm to her forehead.
"Just a little more," she whispered to herself. "Just get what she asked for… then go home."
___
Leo drove through the rain-soaked streets, and Blake, sat beside him in the passenger seat, loosening his tie.
"That dinner was a mess," Blake muttered. "Next time, we'll pick the place."
Leo chuckled under his breath. "Agreed. I think the chef almost burned the steak on purpose."
They were returning from a business dinner that had dragged longer than expected. Leo was exhausted, his mind already drifting to the documents waiting on his desk—though Blake was insisting he take at least one day off.
"No more work tonight," Blake warned. "Doctor's orders."
Leo smirked. "We'll see."
The two had known each other since childhood, and Blake never hesitated to treat Leo like a stubborn brother rather than the billionaire CEO the world saw him as.
As they drove, the rain intensified, creating a curtain of water around them.
Blake leaned forward. "Slow down a bit. Visibility's bad."
Leo nodded and eased his foot off the gas. Through the hazy windshield, the headlights cast faint halos on the road.
And then—
Something moved.
A small figure.
Staggering.
Leo narrowed his eyes. "What is that?"
Blake squinted. "Someone walking… in this weather?"
As they approached, the scene grew clearer:
A girl—drenched, trembling, barely keeping herself upright.
___
Ruby's steps faltered, her breath coming out in quick, uneven bursts. Her body felt unbearably heavy, as though her limbs belonged to someone else.
Her sight dimmed around the edges.
The rain poured harder.
She clutched the plastic bag containing the few items Clara had demanded—salt, tomato cubes, and spices. The items she had been forced out to buy even though she could hardly stand.
Her knees buckled.
She stumbled once—
Twice—
And then everything spun violently.
Her vision blurred.
She reached out blindly toward the empty air.
Her lips parted, as if to call for help, but all that came out was a soft gasp.
And then she collapsed onto the cold, wet pavement.
"Stop the car!" Blake shouted before Leo even fully registered what was happening.
But Leo was already stepping on the brakes.
The car skidded slightly before coming to a halt.
Both men rushed out into the downpour.
Leo got to her first. She lay motionless on the ground, rain drenching every part of her. Her long dark hair was plastered to her cheeks. Her breathing was shallow, almost too faint to notice.
"Hey—hey, can you hear me?" Leo called urgently, crouching beside her.
Blake was already checking her pulse. "She's freezing. Pulse is weak. She's dehydrated—and look at her lips, she's been out here too long."
Leo slid one arm beneath her knees, the other under her shoulders, lifting her gently into his arms. She was shockingly light, as though she hadn't eaten properly in days.
"Get the door," Leo barked.
Blake opened the back door of the car, and Leo carefully placed her inside, brushing the wet strands of hair from her face.
"Hospital?" Leo asked.
Blake nodded firmly. "Mine. No delays."
Leo didn't need to be told twice. He slammed the door shut, ran around to the driver's seat, and sped off into the night with a fierce determination burning in his chest.