Chapter 4
KAT'S POV
I barely register what just happened. One moment, I'm crossing the street, lost in thought, and the next, I'm being yanked back with such force that I nearly fall against a solid chest. A car screeches past where I stood just seconds ago and the wind of its passing whips my hair around my face.
My breath hitches as I look up—straight into the most stunning pair of brown eyes I've ever seen. They hold me captive. They are intense and unreadable, like a midnight storm waiting to break. The man before me is striking in a way that seems almost unreal. His jaw is sharp with stubble that makes him look both rugged and sexy. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he's just run his fingers through it, and his lips—full and sinfully tempting—are pressed into a tight line.
He is tall, looking at me with a presence that is both commanding and effortless.
Everything about him screams power, control—danger.
Something tightens in my chest. It's a pull so strong that I feel lightheaded. I shouldn't feel like this. Not over a stranger. And yet, it's as if the universe just shifted around me, aligning in a way I never expected.
"Are you alright?" His voice is deep, smooth, like velvet.
I realize then that I haven't moved, haven't spoken. My fingers are still curled into the fabric of his suit, clinging to him as though he's the only thing keeping me upright.
I force myself to nod, swallowing against the dryness in my throat. "Y-yeah. I just—thank you." My voice comes out unsteady.
He opens his mouth as if to say something, but before he can, a familiar voice cuts through the moment.
"Miss Kat!"
I snap my head toward Bruno who hurries over. He looks concerned.
When I turn back, the stranger is already slipping away, disappearing into the crowd like a ghost.
My shock is instantly replaced by frustration.
"What the hell?" I mutter, glaring in the direction he vanished. "He just left?"
Bruno finally reaches me, slightly out of breath. "Miss Kat, your father will be worried. We should go home."
I shake my head "I'm not going anywhere with you"
His brows furrow. "Miss—"
"Go home." I turn on my heel before he can protest.
As I walk, my mind swirls with unanswered questions.
Who was that man? And why did I feel so drawn to him?
-
Night falls faster than I expect, and soon, I'm wandering aimlessly through the city. I don't want to go home. Not yet. I just need space—away from my father, away from expectations, away from everything.
The streets are nearly empty. I pull my coat tighter around me, exhaling slowly. Maybe I should find a hotel or—
A chill runs down my spine.
I slow my steps, suddenly aware of the figures ahead. Two men, standing at the mouth of an alley. I immediately move to cross the street, but my stomach drops as I spot two more men stepping onto the sidewalk behind me.
Shit.
I start to panic but I force my expression to remain neutral. I keep walking, trying to act like I'm unaware of them. But as soon as I pass the first pair, one of them moves to block my path.
"Where you headed, sweetheart?" he asks with an evil smile.
My pulse pounds in my ears.
"I don't have anything on me," I say firmly, keeping my voice steady. "Just let me pass."
The second man chuckles, stepping closer. "Now, that's a shame. But maybe we don't need money. Maybe we just want a little fun."
I turn around to escape the other way, but the two men behind me close in, cutting off my exit. My breath quickens. I'm trapped.
"Don't come any closer," I warn, trying to sound threatening despite the fear curling in my stomach.
They exchange amused glances before one of them reaches for me.
But he never makes it.
A blur of motion, and suddenly, someone steps between us—a tall, figure cloaked in darkness. My heart leaps into my throat as I recognize him instantly.
It's him.
The man from earlier.
He stands like a shield before me. his presence alone is like a warning.
"Walk away." The stranger says.
One of the thugs chuckles, taking a step forward. "And who the hell are you?"
The man tilts his head slightly. "I'll ask nicely one more time. Walk away."
The leader of the group, a muscular man with a jagged scar across his cheek laughs "Or what?"
The stranger sighs, as if already bored. "I warned you."
It happens in a flash. The leader lunges, his fist swinging. But before it can land, the stranger moves—fast, almost inhumanly so. He sidesteps easily, catches the man's wrist, and twists. There's a loud crack as the thug howls in pain, dropping to his knees. The others react instantly, charging in, but the stranger is faster.
A second man aims a punch at his ribs. He blocks it effortlessly, grabs the guy's arm, and flips him onto the pavement with force. The third swings a rusty pipe at his head. The stranger ducks, pivots, and drives his elbow straight into the attacker's stomach. The man wheezes, collapsing to his knees before keeling over entirely.
The last one hesitates,. He tries to make a run for it, but the stranger is already there, cutting off his escape. One well-placed kick to the back of the knee sends him sprawling. His face smacks against the pavement with a dull thud.
I can only stand there, frozen with my breath caught in my throat. I've never seen anyone move like that—so fluid, so controlled.
The groans of the fallen men fill the empty street, but the ones still conscious are angrier than ever. The leader, clutching his broken wrist, snarls, "You think you're tough? Let's see how tough you are."
The rest of them draw their weapons. I feel my stomach drop.
The stranger, however, doesn't flinch. Instead, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a black gun.
The change in atmosphere is instant.
The men freeze. The confidence drains from their faces, replaced by pure fear.
"Still want to test me?" the stranger asks. His voice is calm, almost lazy, as if he's already moved on from this pathetic little encounter.
The robbers exchange frantic glances before scrambling to their feet and bolting into the night. Their footsteps echo down the alley until there's silence
The stranger sighs, lowering the gun before tucking it back into his coat. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns to me.
My heart is still racing. My body trembles but not entirely from fear. There's something else—something deeper, more dangerous, curling in my stomach at the way he looks at me. His silver eyes pin me in place
I swallow, trying to find my voice.
"You—" I inhale shakily. "Are you a stalker?"