Chapter 4
Elena woke up humming. She hadn’t slept much — her mind kept replaying Adrian’s smile, the way his hand had lingered on hers, the words he’d whispered by the river.
She poured coffee into her favorite chipped mug, slipped into her robe, and padded to the couch where the morning news played low on the TV.
“…police say the body of a young woman was discovered near the East River early this morning…”
Elena frowned, half-listening.
“…the victim, believed to be in her twenties, showed signs of extreme violence. Investigators have yet to release her identity. Residents are urged to remain vigilant…”
She muted the TV and sipped her coffee. “God,” she muttered, shaking her head. “This city never sleeps, and neither do the killers.”
The thought was grim, but she pushed it away quickly, letting Adrian’s face drift back into her mind.
Her phone buzzed. Adrian’s name lit the screen.
Adrian: Good morning. Did you dream about me?
She laughed and typed back.
Elena: Maybe. Did you dream about me?
Seconds later, the reply came.
Adrian: Didn’t sleep. Too busy thinking of your smile.
Elena rolled her eyes, though her stomach flipped. “Cheesy,” she whispered, thumbs flying.
Elena: Smooth talker. What are you doing?
Adrian: Standing outside your building. Want to come down?
Her eyes widened. “What?!” She peered out her window, and sure enough, there he was, leaning against his sleek black car, hands in pockets, as if he belonged on a magazine cover.
She grabbed jeans and a sweater, threw them on, and ran a brush through her hair before darting down the stairs.
“Stalker,” she teased as she pushed open the front door.
“Persistent,” he corrected, flashing that slow smile.
“Do you ever work? Or is your full-time job making surprise appearances?”
“Today, my job is to make you forget the world,” he said.
She raised a brow. “The whole world?”
“At least the bad parts.”
“Well,” she murmured, “that would be nice.”
They drove aimlessly for a while, the radio low, his hand resting casually on the wheel.
“You look happier today,” Adrian said.
“Maybe I am.”
“Why?”
She hesitated. “Because last night felt like…a movie. I keep replaying it.”
“Good,” he said simply.
“You don’t replay it?”
His gaze flicked to her. “I don’t need to. I remember every detail.”
The way he said it made her pulse skip.
They stopped at a tiny bakery Elena loved, the kind with chipped tiles and the smell of cinnamon baked into the walls. She ordered a croissant; he ordered nothing.
“You’re not eating?” she asked, taking a bite.
“Not hungry.”
“At all?”
His lips quirked. “I’m distracted.”
“By what?”
“You.”
Elena nearly choked on her pastry, laughing. “You’re dangerous.”
He leaned closer, voice low. “You have no idea.”
Her laughter faltered for a beat, but then she shook it off. “Flattery and mystery. You’ve got all the tricks.”
“Not tricks,” Adrian said, serious now. “Truth.”
Her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it. It was her friend Marisa.
Elena answered, putting the phone to her ear. “Hey.”
Marisa’s voice was sharp. “Are you watching the news? Another girl was killed last night. Near the river.”
Elena froze mid-bite.
“I saw a headline,” she admitted. “But I didn’t really—”
“You didn’t really what?” Marisa snapped. “Lena, that could have been you! You live downtown. You walk those streets.”
“Relax, Mari,” Elena said gently. “New York’s always dangerous. You can’t panic over every headline.”
“Every headline?” Marisa’s voice cracked. “This is the third murder in a month.”
Elena blinked. “Third?”
“You didn’t know?”
She glanced at Adrian, who was watching her intently, unreadable. “No…I guess I missed that.”
“You need to be careful,” Marisa insisted. “Promise me you won’t walk home alone at night anymore.”
“Fine, I promise,” Elena said, trying to calm her. “Don’t worry, okay?”
“You think I won’t worry? You’re my best friend. Just—just text me when you get home. Always.”
“I will. I swear. I’m fine, Mari.”
When she hung up, she found Adrian still watching her, eyes sharp.
“What?” she asked.
“Your friend’s right,” he said softly. “The city isn’t safe.”
Elena shrugged. “It never is. That’s why you keep moving, keep living. Otherwise, you’d never leave your apartment.”
Adrian leaned back, studying her. “You’re braver than you think.”
She smiled faintly. “Or more reckless.”
They spent the afternoon wandering bookstores, browsing racks of old vinyl records. Adrian didn’t buy anything, but he asked questions — about her favorite bands, her dream vacation, what she wanted most but had never admitted out loud.
“Stability,” she said finally, almost embarrassed. “I just want something that doesn’t fall apart.”
His gaze softened. “Then stop giving yourself to men who don’t deserve you.”
Her throat tightened. “And how do I know who does deserve me?”
“You’ll know,” he said. “You’ll feel it.”
For a moment, his words wrapped around her like a promise, warm and dangerous.
That evening, as Adrian drove her home, the radio announcer’s voice cut through the music.
“…police are asking anyone with information about the brutal killing near the East River to come forward. The victim, a young woman, has not yet been identified. Detectives describe the crime scene as ‘particularly disturbing.’”
Elena shifted uncomfortably. “God. It’s awful.”
“Yes,” Adrian said quietly.
“Do you ever feel guilty for living your life when someone else’s just ended?” she asked.
Adrian was silent for a long moment. “No,” he said finally. “I feel angry that someone could take a life like that.”
His tone was clipped, hard, and Elena glanced at him, startled. His jaw was set tight, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You okay?”
He relaxed slightly. “Yes. Just…thinking.”
She nodded, though a faint unease prickled in her chest.
When he pulled up outside her building, she lingered in the car.
“Thanks for today,” she said. “I needed it.”
“You needed me,” Adrian corrected gently.
Elena laughed, though it came out shaky. “Maybe I did.”
He leaned closer, his hand brushing her cheek. “I’ll keep you safe, Elena. Always.”
Her breath caught. “That sounds like a vow.”
“It is,” he said simply.
She swallowed, searching his eyes. “Goodnight, Adrian.”
“Goodnight, Elena.”
She stepped out of the car, the night air cool against her flushed skin. Inside, she leaned against the door, heart racing.
The news replayed in her mind — the girl near the river, the fear in Marisa’s voice — but she shook it off. She had Adrian now. For the first time in years, she didn’t feel alone.
Whatever darkness lurked in the city, she was certain it couldn’t touch her.
She was wrong.
