Rain fell like whispered secrets over the city of Greyford.
The streetlights flickered, painting the wet road in shades of gold and sorrow. From the window of her tiny apartment on the third floor, Eliza Moore watched the rain without blinking. She held a cup of cold coffee in her hand, untouched for an hour.
Her mind was louder than the storm.
Someone is following me.
The thought refused to leave her.
Eliza had always believed life was simple—finish college, get a job in journalism, write meaningful stories, and maybe fall in love with someone kind. But now, at twenty-three, life had turned into a maze of fear.
She wasn't supposed to see it.
She wasn't supposed to hear it.
But she did.
Three nights ago, she had been working late at the local newspaper office, editing a boring article about parking violations. Around 11:40 p.m., she heard voices from the hallway outside the office.
Two men.
Low voices. Angry.
Curiosity had betrayed her.
She stepped closer to the door and listened.
"Make it look like an accident," one man said.
"And the files?" the other asked.
"Burn them. No witnesses."
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Witnesses to what?
She didn't know. But fear told her one thing: it was dangerous.
The next morning, she searched the names she had heard.
One name came up again and again—
Victor Hale.
A powerful businessman. A man with charities, luxury cars, and a smile on every billboard. He owned half the city.
But behind the smile…
She felt something dark.
Now, sitting in her apartment, Eliza wrapped her arms around herself.
Her phone buzzed.
She jumped.
A message:
Unknown Number: Stop digging, Eliza.
Her breath froze.
"How do they know my name?" she whispered.
Her laptop lay open on the table, showing articles, documents, and audio clips she had secretly recorded. Her hands trembled as she closed it.
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"Who is it?" she asked.
No answer.
Another knock. Louder.
She took a kitchen knife from the counter.
Slow steps.
She opened the door slightly.
A man stood there, soaked from rain.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair falling over serious eyes. His face looked tired but dangerous in a quiet way.
"Yes?" she asked, gripping the knife behind the door.
"My name is Aaron Blake," he said calmly. "And you're in trouble."
Her blood ran cold.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"I work for people who clean up messes," he said. "And right now, you are a mess."
She tried to shut the door.
He stopped it with his hand.
"Wait," he said. "I'm not here to hurt you."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because someone else is coming to do exactly that."
Silence fell between them, broken only by rain.
Eliza studied him.
His eyes weren't cruel.
They were… worried.
"Who sent you?" she asked.
"No one sent me," Aaron said. "I left."
"Left what?"
"The wrong side."
Her throat tightened.
"You're lying."
"Maybe," he admitted. "But you don't have many options."
Sirens echoed far away.
Aaron stepped back slightly. "Pack your things. Five minutes. We leave."
"Why should I trust you?"
He looked at her for a long moment.
"Because I know what you heard three nights ago," he said.
"And I know Victor Hale wants you dead."
Her legs almost gave up.
"How do you—"
"Because I was there," Aaron said.
Her mind spun.
"You were one of them?"
"Yes."
Fear twisted into anger.
"Then get out of my house."
"If I do," he said quietly, "you won't survive the night."
Her phone buzzed again.
Another message:
Unknown Number: Last warning.
Her breath broke.
"Fine," she whispered. "I'll come."
She grabbed her backpack and laptop.
As they stepped into the rain, Eliza felt something worse than fear.
She felt destiny changing direction.
They drove through empty streets.
No radio. No talking.
Finally, Eliza asked, "Why did you leave them?"
Aaron tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"Because I realized… the people I work for don't just kill enemies," he said.
"They kill innocents."
She swallowed.
"And now?"
"And now," he said, glancing at her, "I protect the one innocent they want most."
Her heart beat strangely.
"Why me?"
"Because you know too much," he said.
"And because… I don't want blood on my hands anymore."
The car disappeared into the darkness.
Behind them, the city lights faded.
And with them, Eliza's old life.
She did not know yet—
This man would become
her shield,
her danger,
and her greatest love.