Chapter Four
I didn’t plan to intervene. I just wanted to observe the girl from a distance—see for myself what she looked like in person. She looked so gorgeous in that photograph, and a huge part of me wanted to stare at that beauty up close.
It was supposed to be a simple observe-and-report mission that any one of the men could’ve easily handled. Yet, I chose to do the fieldwork myself. For unknown reasons, something about this girl kept pulling me to her like a moth to a flame.
Why?
What was it about her that I couldn’t get enough of? Why was this stranger, who, by Bratva law, was supposed to be “taken care of,” living rent-free in my head?
By the time I arrived at her neighborhood, she was already leaving the house. My men had reported that she barely left the apartment since the incident two days ago.
One even said he believed the girl was aware that she was being watched.
He couldn’t prove it, but according to him, he was certain that she was starting to get really suspicious of her surroundings. The way she moved the couple of times she left the house, and the way her eyes roamed the streets, hinted at her hyperawareness.
This piece of information just made her far more interesting than before. Until now, she still hadn’t gone to the authorities about what she witnessed. Smart girl.
That night, I followed her down the streets, watching her closely from the other side of the road. She had her hoodie on, so I didn’t get a good look at her face. However, the way she carried herself with so much confidence and poise did something to me that I wasn’t ready to label.
When I spotted those two masked men trailing her, my expression darkened. They were muggers, and they’d set their eyes on her. She was quick to detect their presence and wasted no time in taking off.
God, she was fast!
No wonder she was able to outrun my men the day she witnessed our covert operation. She moved so swiftly that it seemed her feet were barely touching the ground.
She gaped at her attackers, stealing nervous glances over her shoulders as she sprinted through the night. This whole time, I’d joined in on the chase, following up behind the two assholes.
They were chasing her.
I was chasing them.
She was their prey.
They were mine.
She turned a sharp corner and hit a dead end. That’s when her attackers showed up, trapping her in that dark alleyway.
“Stay back!” she barked, arming herself with a random stick she’d picked off the ground.
I waited in the shadows, watching the whole scene unfold.
They mocked her. Laughed at her.
Yet she stood her ground, warning them not to take a step closer as though she stood a chance against them.
Her bravery in the face of danger was remarkable. I thought she was going to beg them not to harm her. I thought she’d break down into tears and quickly hand over everything she had.
But no. This girl chose to go down fighting rather than cower like a scared little kitten. She was clearly built differently.
I liked that.
The second she headbutted that man in the face, my brows rose instinctively. The strike was so powerful it actually broke his nose. Something frozen thawed inside me instantly.
She didn’t stop there; she swung the stick violently, striking the second man across the face. And she would’ve run away if the first man hadn’t grabbed her by the hoodie. She fought back, struggling, scratching, screaming, and kicking.
It wasn’t until the second guy smacked her hard that I finally snapped.
In a heartbeat, I dashed out of the shadows and grabbed his hand in midair before he struck her again. He raised his head, shock flickering in his gaze, but before he could birth his next thought, I twisted his arm.
Crack!
He yelled out in pain after I snapped it like a twig. I raised him into the air with one hand and hurled him across the alleyway.
The other man came at me with a knife. I sidestepped from his attack, retaliating with a blow to his ribs. The impact crushed his ribcage, forcing a grunt out of him. Before that pain would settle, a powerful uppercut raised him into the air and crashed to the ground, graveling at my feet.
I stared down at my fearless damsel in distress as she blinked her eyes, as if struggling to stay conscious. That slap must’ve done a number on her. The fact that these men had the guts to lay their filthy hands on her infuriated me more than it should.
I crouched down, slipping a tiny tracking device into the pocket of her hoodie. The two assholes took the chance to attempt an escape. They rose to their feet, limping away. I strolled after them, my footsteps measured—unhurried.
When I grabbed one by the neck, he began begging for his life. Pathetic. I closed my fingers around the nape of his neck, choking the life out of him as his eyes bulged out of their sockets.
A second later, I bashed the side of his head into the alley wall. The impact was so powerful that it left a dent in the brick with blood smeared over it. By the time I turned to face the second man, he was already pissing himself.
I took a step closer, and that was when his eyes rolled backward, and he dropped to the floor. The idiot had passed out. From fear.
A strange kind of satisfaction washed over me, knowing she was out of harm’s way. When she rose to her feet, I retreated into the shadows, concealing my identity. I wasn’t sure whether she saw my face two days ago or not. The idea was to remain mysterious and anonymous for now.
Her voice was laced with genuine gratitude when she thanked me like I was some superhero who’d swooped in and saved her life. She was wrong. I was no superhero. In fact, there’s no universe where I didn’t exist as a villain.
Without a word, I turned around and left.
***
I sat in my office that day, watching the live feed from the surveillance cameras in her home. After she’d left the house the other night, I had my men break into her apartment to install hidden cameras and microphones.
These tiny devices were positioned at strategic places where she’d never notice. She went about her regular life, oblivious to the fact that her place had been bugged by the same people she was hiding from.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes fixed on my laptop screen. I watched her sulk in bed for hours, as if trying to make sense of what was happening in her life. When she decided to get out of her bed, she stripped naked and walked into the bathroom.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of her bare skin glistening under the light. The feminine curve of her figure, the gentle swells that adorned her chest, stole my breath for a second.
Reflexively, I reached out and closed the laptop. Not because I wasn’t intrigued by what I saw, but because, for some reason, I didn’t want to invade her privacy. The idea was to keep an eye on her. Not watch her undress.
The temptation was stronger than I expected, as everything in me wanted to feast my eyes on the sight of her sexy body. However, I resisted. I wasn’t a saint. But at the same time, just because I could do something didn’t mean that I should.
I left the laptop closed and tried going back to work despite the illicit thoughts forming in my head. The more I struggled to stay focused, the more I got distracted by the images burned into my mind.
At last, I managed to win the battle and buried myself in work for the next two hours. By the time I returned to watching the live feed, she was already on the phone.
My eyes squinted, brows furrowed, as I listened to her conversation with the person on the other end. Initially, I thought she was speaking with the cops, but then I noticed the smile on her face and the tone of her voice.
Whoever was on the other line was definitely someone close to her. A friend. Maybe that Frank Donovan guy. A strange feeling swelled within me at the mere thought of another man being responsible for that beautiful smile.
My fingers curled into a tight fist as I watched her converse so casually over the phone. She seemed so happy that her eyes lit up in ways that accentuated her gorgeousness.
She must really care about that man to act the way she was—smiling and laughing. My expression darkened ever so slightly, that strange feeling gradually spreading across my body.
It wasn’t until she mentioned a feminine name that I released my tightly curled fingers.
Iris.
The fact that she’d been on the phone with another woman this whole time was more relieving than I thought. Whoever this Iris was, she was probably her friend. Or her lover?
Was she into women?
I combed my fingers through my dark hair, confused by my sudden interest in her private and sexual life. It wasn’t supposed to be any concern of mine.
Her relationship status shouldn’t be irrelevant to the task at hand.
What even was the task at hand again?
Based on the nature of their conversation, I deduced that Iris was trying to get her to come with her to a club.
“Hmm.” I thought for a second, slowly stroking my chin.
Perhaps it was time to get directly involved with her instead of just watching in secret. I wasn’t sure whether that was a good idea or not. But one thing was certain: Every cell in my body wanted to be around her—close to her.
I was no longer satisfied with observing from a distance. And now, what had started as surveillance was slowly turning into something I didn’t think I was ready to label.