"Careful, young lady."
The words came low and sharp, right behind her.
A powerful hand clamped onto the back of Elowen's wheelchair, stopping it mid-tilt. The sudden jerk made her gasp as the world lurched. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs, panic bursting through her chest.
For a second, she couldn't breathe.
She felt it then—the strength in that grip. Solid. Unyielding. Protective. It wasn't careless or rough. It was firm, controlled, as if the hand had stopped danger before it could fully reach her.
Slowly, with trembling fingers gripping the armrest, Elowen turned her head.
The man standing behind her was tall—much taller than she had expected. His presence alone felt heavy, commanding the space around him without effort. He stood straight, alert, as if the world around him was something he constantly watched and measured.
He looked to be about twenty-eight. His hair was shaved clean, giving him a bold, striking appearance. His features were sharp and handsome, the kind that belonged on the cover of a business magazine rather than on a chaotic street. Everything about him looked polished, controlled, powerful.
When his blue eyes met hers, Elowen felt her breath hitch.
They were intense. Alert. Cold in a dangerous way—eyes of a man who was always in control, even in the middle of chaos.
"Thank you," Elowen breathed out in relief.
Her voice shook. She had truly thought she would hit the ground. If she had fallen, who knew what she might have broken this time? Her arms? Her ribs? She had already lost enough.
The man didn't respond immediately.
His gaze had shifted past her, sharp and focused, following the direction of the man who had shoved her. The criminal was already sprinting away, disappearing through a corner at the far end of the street.
The man's jaw tightened.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.
Without thinking, he took a step forward, his body instinctively preparing to chase. But then he stopped.
His eyes flicked back to Elowen.
She looked pale. Fragile. Her hands trembled slightly on her lap, and her breathing was uneven. She looked like someone who had already been through too much.
He exhaled sharply, as if forcing himself to make a decision.
Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number quickly.
"Block Axis Nine," he said into the phone, his voice firm and commanding. "The criminal ran through that way."
He ended the call immediately and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Criminal.
The word hit Elowen like a slap.
Her stomach twisted violently. Fear crawled up her spine, cold and suffocating. A criminal? Had she really crossed paths with a criminal?
Her face twisted in terror.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" the man asked.
His voice cut through her thoughts, pulling her back.
"No!" Elowen replied immediately, too loudly.
The man narrowed his eyes slightly, taken aback by the sharpness of her response.
Realizing her voice had come out too strong, Elowen swallowed hard.
"No… just… shaken," she said softly, her voice trembling.
The man studied her for a brief moment. His blue eyes softened, though the tension in his posture never fully left. He noticed the fear written plainly on her face.
"Don't be afraid," he said gently. "I'm a police officer."
Elowen's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
She looked him up and down.
He wasn't wearing a police uniform.
"A detective," he corrected calmly.
He reached into his jacket again, pulled out an ID card, and held it up for her to see.
Detective Lucien Calderwood.
The name stood out clearly.
"Oh," Elowen whispered.
Lucien put the ID back into his wallet. "Where are you going?" he asked.
There was no reply.
Elowen was staring at him, lost in thought, her eyes fixed on his face as if she was seeing something unreal.
"Miss…" Lucien called, his tone lightly amused.
That snapped her back.
Lucien Calderwood.
It wasn't just a name.
Almost everyone in the city had heard of him. He was famous for solving difficult cases that others couldn't. He had won the City Personality Award three consecutive times. Adrian had mentioned his name a few times before, though she had never imagined what he looked like.
Who would have thought he would be this handsome?
"I'm sorry," Elowen said quickly, embarrassed. "I'm going to the City Psychiatric Hospital."
Lucien nodded once. "I'll call a cab for you."
He raised his hand and waved down a passing cab.
"No, don't!" Elowen said immediately, panic flashing in her eyes.
But the cab had already stopped.
"I don't have any money with me," she admitted softly, looking down at her lap.
She had left the mansion without money. She hadn't planned to visit her mother, but once she was out, she decided to go.
"Don't worry," Lucien said calmly.
He pulled out his wallet, spoke briefly to the driver about her destination, and paid the fare without hesitation.
"Thank you," Elowen said gratefully.
The City Psychiatric Hospital was far from where they were.
Lucien nodded in acknowledgment and carefully helped her into the car. He folded her wheelchair and placed it inside.
"Help her get out when you reach," he instructed the driver firmly.
Then he stepped back, allowing the car to move.
His eyes stayed on Elowen.
Inside the cab, Elowen was still looking at him. She lifted her hand and waved gently, a small, fragile smile on her lips.
The car drove away.
Lucien stood there in silence, his eyes fixed on the empty road long after the cab disappeared. His face showed nothing, no one could tell what was moving inside his mind.
Ringgg—
The sound of his phone pulled him back.
He answered while walking away.
"Sir, we caught the criminal," a voice said from the other end.
"I'm heading back to the station," Lucien replied and ended the call.
He stopped.
Turned.
And looked once more toward the road where Elowen's car had vanished.
Then he walked away.