Chapter 5: Shadows in the Night

After the men left with him, Isla finally exhaled.

Relief, fragile and trembling, washed through her.

Who was that man?

If he was that important, why hadn’t anyone been guarding him at the lake?

And why had he looked at her as though she was the one who’d dragged him under? Did he even remember what he’d done, or had he lost his memory entirely?

Either way, it was over now. Or so she told herself.

She turned to the mess left behind, the medical supplies, the stained towels, the faint trace of his presence, and spent hours scrubbing, clearing, pretending she could erase the memory along with it.

When she was done, exhaustion hit her all at once. She staggered back, clutching the edge of her bed as her knees threatened to give way. Had she just made the greatest mistake of her life?

She’d always believed in saving lives, no matter who they belonged to.

But what if some lives weren’t meant to be saved?

Her gaze drifted to her wrist. The faint red marks were still there, reminders of his iron grip. That same man had stared at her like she was an enemy, like he could break her in a heartbeat.

And yet… she had also seen something else in his eyes.

Uncertainty.

Regret.

No. She shook her head. That was foolish. A man like him didn’t regret.

He was dangerous.

And somehow, she was already tangled in his world.

She remembered his eyes, that glacial blue, as mesmerizing as the lake itself. Beautiful, until the ice cracked and dragged you under.

and I did fall inside.

---

Three months passed since that night, the night Isla saved the man with the piercing blue eyes.

Three months of pretending to forget.

Three months of restless sleep and flashes of that frozen lake.

She could still see him, pale, silent, accusing, fading into the darkness without a single word of gratitude.

But he wasn’t a ghost.

He was real. And his absence haunted her even more than his presence.

Yesterday, she had learned the truth. It was impossible to avoid.

how a man survive an a frozen lake, whispered in corridors, murmured in hospital break rooms, printed in bold letters across the evening news.

She’d even bought a newspaper just to be sure.

And when she saw his photograph staring back at her, cold and alive…

her blood ran cold.

Lorenzo De Luca.

The king of the underworld.

When so many had wished him dead, she had unintentionally pulled the man from the lake's depths, giving him another chance at life. The vision of Lorenzo De Luca, cold and lifeless in her arms, with his long lashes resting against his pale skin and the harsh angles of his face softened by oblivion, was something she had tried to forget.He looked almost peaceful then. Almost human.

But she knew better now.

She had saved a monster.

If she had walked away that night, let the frozen water claim him, how many lives would have been spared? How many people had suffered because she had chosen to be kind? The weight of that thought sat heavy in her chest.

She needed to leave.

Valmont City wasn’t safe, not with men like him walking its streets. But leaving required money, and that was something she didn’t have.

So she stayed. For now in Valmont City.

And every night, she wondered if she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

She told herself it was over. That Lorenzo had forgotten her. That their paths would never cross again.

Isla groaned and pushed open the refrigerator door, expecting to see nothing. There was a single bottle of water on the top shelf, beside a half-empty jar of peanut butter that she couldn't even remember buying.Hunger made her stomach turn, yet there was no easy solution. She had to go shopping. She stuffed her money in her pocket and pulled her coat from the back of the chair. Although she didn't have much money, she could buy certain necessities. Enough for the entire week.

The refreshing air touched her skin as she went outside, evoking recollections of that evening, about him, akin to the soft noises of the city, the buzz of fluorescent lights in the supermarket, or the frigid air searing her lungs. The memory hovered on the fringes of her awareness, yet she disregarded it.

This was just another errand. Just another day.

A weird sensation, however, pricked at the back of her neck as she walked down the street.

Like someone was watching her.

Today, it screamed at her.

She glanced at him nonchalantly as she pretended to grab for a can of soup.

A man in a dark jacket. Tall, broad-shouldered, lingering near the entrance.

Her heart pounded. Acting as though she hadn't noticed him, she picked up a few more things and headed for the checkout. But he was still there when she looked again. observing. As she paid for her groceries, the atmosphere felt suffocating. Her hands trembled as she placed the receipt into her bag, but she forced herself to remain calm and move smoothly. The frigid air pierced her skin as she went outside, but it did nothing to alleviate her anxiety. She accelerated.

One block. Then two.

Footsteps echoed behind her.

Too close.

Isla's heart rate soared. There was no coincidence here. He had been dispatched by someone. As the man eventually got closer and stepped right in front of Isla, her steps faltered. Her heart pounded and her breath caught. Although he talked softly, she could hear a faint suggestion of something in his voice.

"You should be more careful walking alone at night," he continued. A cautionary tale? Laughter? Despite the mounting anguish in her gut, she kept a neutral expression and tightened her grip on the grocery bag. He bent his head slightly, as if unsure how to respond, and stated, "No one is important." Before she could press him any further, the man turned on his heel and vanished into the darkness, as if he had never existed.