The inn’s walls were too thin. Elena woke to the sound of footsteps in the hallway, heavy and deliberate. She held her breath, waiting, but they passed her door and faded down the stairs. Only then did she exhale, clutching the blanket to her chest.

It was morning, though the sky outside the window was still dark, choked by storm clouds. Blackthorne City didn’t know sunlight—only shadow and steel.

She changed into her cleanest shirt, pulled her jacket tight, and stepped out onto the street. The city was alive in a way that unsettled her. Vendors shouted from corners, cars honked, neon signs buzzed even in the daylight. People didn’t smile here—they bargained, shoved, survived.

Elena kept her head low, moving quickly. She needed food. She needed work. She needed to disappear.

But she didn’t notice the black SUV until it was too late.

It pulled alongside her with the grace of a predator. The tinted window slid down, and this time she saw him clearly.

The man from the night before.

He was worse up close.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black with a crisp white shirt, Adrian Blackthorne radiated control. His face was carved in sharp lines, his eyes pale as winter ice—cold, assessing, dangerous. A faint scar ran along his jaw, almost hidden by the stubble darkening his skin.

“Get in,” he said. His voice was low, smooth, but carried the kind of authority that left no room for refusal.

Elena froze. “I—I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

His gaze flicked over her, slow and deliberate, before returning to her eyes. “I don’t make mistakes.”

The door opened from the inside, one of his men gesturing her in. People on the street walked past, not looking, not caring. In Blackthorne City, everyone knew better than to interfere.

Her pulse raced. Every instinct screamed at her to run. But something else—something darker—held her still.

“Why?” she whispered.

drian’s lips curved, though the smile never touched his eyes. “Because you’re in my city. And I don’t let strangers wander without knowing who they belong to.”

Her breath caught. His words felt like chains, invisible but heavy.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she forced out.

Adrian leaned forward slightly, his gaze burning into hers. “You will.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only when he leaned back and nodded to his driver. The SUV pulled away, leaving her trembling on the sidewalk, heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Elena’s knees almost buckled, but she forced herself to walk. Faster this time, as though she could outrun the weight of his stare.

But she knew, with a sinking certainty, that she hadn’t escaped him.

Somewhere behind glass towers and steel walls, Adrian Blackthorne was already planning.

And Adrian was a man who always got what he wanted.