Chapter 1: WHEN DANGER COMES IN

Hazel's POV

The cold becomes intense each second as I sprint down the narrow  street, my heart slamming against my chest like it wants to break free.

My legs ache, lungs burn, but there’s no way I can stop—not now. Not when Enzo Goreya’s men are after me, and every breath feels like it could be my last.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never thought I’d be running for my life, stuck in the shadows of this damn city. But here I am, ducking around corners and darting through alleys, all because I took a risk.

I stole from Enzo, the most ruthless man in this world I never wanted to belong to. All I wanted was a way out. A way to make enough money to keep my family from drowning. Yet, it feels like the harder I try, the deeper I sink.

Growing up, things were tough, and it only got worse when my mom got sick. There was never enough money, never enough of anything, really. We were barely scraping by, and now her medical bills are piling up.

Daniella’s still in school, struggling to keep her grades up, and I know she’s scared too, even though she tries to hide it. She needs me to be strong for her, but right now, I can barely hold it together myself.

My chest tightens as I remember Mom’s face, pale and tired, hooked up to all those machines. The doctors say she needs surgery if she’s going to have a chance, but how was I supposed to pay for it? I tried everything—legit jobs, late nights, early mornings, but nothing was enough. I was desperate.

So, when that scumbag Nathan told me about a chance to make real money, I took it, telling myself it was just temporary. Just long enough to save enough to pay the bills, to fix things for Mom. But here I am, caught in this nightmare.

I never wanted to deal drugs, and I’m sick of every lie I’ve had to tell. Sick of every cold look I get from Daniella when she realizes what I’m doing to keep us afloat. So when I saw that stash of Enzo’s cash… I don’t know, something snapped. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could take it and finally be done with all of this.

But now I’ve got Enzo’s goons on my trail, and they’re not just here to talk. He’ll kill me for this; I know it. Everyone knows what happens when you cross Enzo Goreya.

I stop short, my legs shaking, as I glance around, desperate for a way out. But I’ve hit a dead end, an old brick wall towering in front of me. My stomach twists; there’s no way through, no hidden doorway or dark alley to slip into.

I can hear the footsteps behind me, the low, angry shouts getting closer. My mind races, trying to think, but I’m coming up blank. I’ve got nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

I press myself against the cold, unyielding wall, my breath shallow, every muscle coiled with dread. I’ve risked everything for this chance at freedom, but now it feels like the walls are closing in. I can feel the thud of their boots on the ground, getting louder, closer.

But then, something catches my eye, someone actually—a tall figure in a suit walking up the street like he doesn’t have a single worry in the world. Without thinking, I make a split-second decision.

I push off the wall and dash toward him, my boots slapping against the pavement. He turns just as I skid to a stop behind him, my fingers digging into the back of his jacket. He stiffens, clearly surprised, and glances over his shoulder at me, with his eyebrows raised in confusion.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, giving me a look like I'm crazy.

Up close, I realize he’s tall, probably mid-thirties, with an air of someone who’s used to getting his way.

I shoot him a glare, pressing myself closer to his back.

“Shhh!”

His confusion deepens, but he lowers his voice, though I can tell he’s barely holding back a scoff.

“Shhh?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Shhh, why? Who are you?”

I glance back, seeing Enzo’s men advancing, scanning the street with sharp eyes.

“Could you be any louder?”

He gives me an amused smirk, crossing his arms and clearly not taking this situation nearly as seriously as I’d like him to.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my volume an inconvenience to your… hiding?”

“Yes!” I whisper harshly. “Your questions are going to get me killed, alright?”

His smirk fades, and he raises an eyebrow.

“You’re already in trouble, sweetheart. Hiding behind me isn’t exactly going to fix that, now, is it?”

I shoot him another glare, but his eyes narrow as he catches sight of the men coming down the street, their faces packed with anger when they finally spot me.

A new expression appears on his face. He actually looks a bit… intrigued?

“Hey, you. Get out of the way!” one of them shouts, and I feel my stomach drop.

The man in front of me turns back to me, folding his arms and giving me a look that borders on irritated mirth.

“Who are these men actually?”

“I don't know,” I reply in frustration.

“Hmm, really?” He asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

I don’t even know what to say.

“Just… please. Don’t get involved,” I say, although I realize how ridiculous that sounds when I’m practically glued to his back.

He chuckles quietly, as if this whole thing is some kind of inside joke only he gets.

“You barged into my path, and now you want me to pretend you’re not here?”

“I’m asking you to please just—”

“I thought I told you to move out of the way!” one of Enzo's men snaps, stepping closer.

“Or else what?” The man in front of me asks, pretty bold.

Chapter 2: TROUBLE IN A SUIT

Hazel's POV

The men walks closer, all looking pugnacious, but the stranger in front of me doesn’t flinch. Instead, he watches them with a calm, slightly amused expression that almost makes me forget the danger we’re in.

I can feel my heart pounding, and I instinctively grab his arm, my fingers digging.

“Let’s go. We can’t fight them all; we need to run,” I whisper, hoping he understands how serious this is.

He glances down at my hand on his arm and raises an eyebrow.

“Run?” he repeats, as if the concept is foreign to him. He turns back to Enzo’s men, who are practically seething now, fists clenched as they stir closer.

“Hey, I said move!” one of them snarls, jabbing a finger in his direction.

“This isn’t any of your business. Just hand over the girl, and we won’t have to make this messy.”

The stranger merely sighs, like he’s being asked to do something mildly inconvenient, like moving a parked car.

“I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name. Or why you’re making such a fuss over her.”

The man in front growls. “We’re not playing games. Move, or you’ll regret it.”

The stranger smirks, crossing his arms. “You think I look like someone who takes orders?”

Their faces darken, and they exchange glances, obviously not sure of how to deal with him. I’m practically trembling with nerves, but this guy just stands there, giving them that lazy, indifferent smile like he’s already won. It’s infuriating and, somehow, impressive.

One of the goons steps forward, fists clenched.

“I said, get out of the way!”

The stranger sighs. “Or else what?” He asks, almost bored.

His hand moves ever so slightly, adjusting his cuff as if he has all the time in the world.

That’s all it takes. They rush him, fists raised, and I instinctively back up, covering my mouth in horror. But he doesn’t move an inch. The first man swings, aiming right for his jaw, but he steps aside, grabbing the guy’s arm and twisting it. The man cries out, but before he can recover, he’s tossed to the ground like a rag doll.

Another man comes, and the stranger dodges effortlessly, delivering a swift, precise punch that sends him stumbling backward. It’s almost like a dance, the way he moves—cool, calculated, and completely in control. The men try again, shouting and swinging wildly, but he ducks, blocks, and counters every attack with almost humiliating ease.

I can’t help but stare, stunned. Who is this guy?

One by one, they end up sprawled out on the ground, groaning in pain, until, finally, they gather themselves and run, shooting fearful glances over their shoulders. The stranger brushes the dust off his suit, like he’d just swatted a few flies.

He glances over at me, noticing my shock, and arches an eyebrow. “You alright?”

I blink, finding my voice. “Uh… yeah. Just… wow.”

He smirks, clearly amused. “Not the first time someone’s tried to rough me up. Won’t be the last, I’m sure.”

I nod, still processing everything.

“What’s your name?” I manage to ask.

“Christian,” he replies, tucking his hands into his pockets like he’s done with the whole conversation.

I nod again, still staring, half-waiting for this all to be some strange dream.

“Christian. Okay. Well… thanks, I guess.”

He chuckles softly. “You know, I’m curious now. Why were those men chasing you?”

The question catches me off guard. I can feel my face grow hot, and I scramble for an answer that doesn’t involve… well, the truth. Telling this stranger I stole from a drug lord isn’t exactly something I’m eager to share.

I clear my throat, forcing a smile. “What can I say? I’m beautiful. They just can’t resist my charm.”

Christian laughs, the sound deep and genuine, filling the empty alley. “Is that so?”

I nod, trying to keep up the act, even if I know he probably doesn’t buy it.

“You don’t know how much trouble this face gets me into,” I say, shrugging.

He grins, tilting his head to the side as he considers me.

“Can’t argue with that.”

His gaze lingers a moment longer, and I realize with a jolt that he’s captivated—actually captivated. And for some reason, that makes me nervous.

“Well, ‘beautiful,’” he says, the smirk widening, “you might want to stay out of trouble, or at least out of alleys full of goons next time.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes, but a smile appears on my face.

“Thanks for the advice. And… for everything else.”

Christian nods, still smiling that maddening smile, and I feel something unfamiliar.

I have no idea who this man really is, but I’m sure of one thing: he’s trouble. And right now, he’s the only kind of trouble I don’t mind being around.

“So, where do you live?” He asks, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Well, it's a little bit far from here. But don't worry about me. I'm just going to find a way back home.”

“Are you serious? It's pretty dangerous. Those men can still be out there, probably hiding somewhere, waiting for you to show up.”

“I know. But I can't just leave my family behind.”

He sighs, like I'm making frustrated right now.

“Okay, this is what we're going to do here. I'll take you to my car, and drive you home.”

My eyes widen instantly. This man is being too nice, and he doesn't even know me. Wow, that's rare.

“Are you for real?”

“Yes. Now come on,”  he says, and starts walking away. Then he pauses and turns to glance at me. “You're good with the directions, right?”

I nod and follow him. The both of us walk to his car, which isn't that far from where we were. We burst inside, both of us putting on our seatbelts. Christian starts the car.

“So, you're single?” He asks, not glancing at me.

His question is pretty surprising.

“Yeah,” I reply, looking at him. “Why are you asking?”

He sighs. “Well, let's just say... I have a little something for you.”

Chapter 3: A PROPOSAL AND A NIGHTMARE

Hazel’s POV

"I have a little something for you. I want you to be my wife," he uttered.

I stare at Christian, my jaw hanging open, not even sure if I heard him right.

“Did you just… suggest I should be your wife?” I ask, blinking in disbelief. “Please tell me that was some messed-up joke.”

He doesn’t laugh. Instead, he just watches me with that same calm, collected look that’s both irritating and magnetic.

“Yes, I did. Think about it—”

“Think about it?” I scoff, my voice a little louder than I intended. “I don’t even know you! Five minutes ago, we were total strangers, and now you’re talking about marriage like we’re picking out a brand of coffee?”

Christian sighs, looking slightly exasperated. “Look, I know it sounds… unconventional, but—”

“No,” I interrupt, crossing my arms. “It sounds insane, Christian. I don’t even know your last name, and now you’re talking about… what, a lifetime commitment?”

He runs a hand through his hair, looking at me with a strange intensity. “Hazel, listen. It’s not as simple as it sounds. I have my reasons—”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Reasons? What, you need a tax break or something? Because I don’t do ‘impulsive bride’ on demand!”

His face softens, but his eyes remain locked on mine. “It’s more complicated than you think. There are… situations I can’t explain yet, but if you’d just trust me—”

“Trust?” My tone is dripping with sarcasm. “Christian, the only thing I know about you is that you’re a guy who somehow beat up a gang without breaking a sweat and has a car nicer than any house I’ll ever live in. That’s it. You don’t get to waltz into my life, play hero, and then throw out the word ‘marriage’ like it’s a casual request!”

He’s silent for a moment, his gaze still fixed on me, his jaw tense. “I get it. You’re confused, and you probably think I’m nuts, but—”

“Yeah, I think that about sums it up.” I shake my head, feeling an edge of panic. “Thanks for the help, Christian, but I need to go.”

Without waiting for his response, I wrench open the car door and storm out, slamming it behind me.

My mind is a blur as I walk away, feet pounding against the pavement, my heart racing. I don’t look back—I don’t want to. I’m done with strange men and bizarre proposals. Done.

I haven’t even gotten halfway down the block before I sense movement beside me.

My heart sinks as I realize that two of Enzo’s men are suddenly there, blocking my path.

Instinctively, I turn, only to find myself face-to-face with the third one, smirking like he’s already won.

I take a step back, my pulse spiking, and my mind racing for an escape.

“Going somewhere?” one of them sneers, reaching out to grab my arm.

“No!” I hiss, jerking my arm away and trying to run, but another one blocks my way, his grip iron-tight as he grabs hold of my shoulder. I squirm, kicking out, but it’s no use. “Let go of me!”

The man holding me only laughs, tightening his grip so painfully that I wince. “You thought you could just run off, huh?”

“Please, just let me go! I don’t have anything to do with you!” I shout, desperate for anyone nearby to hear.

“Too late for that, sweetheart,” another one says with a wicked grin. “You’ve already seen too much.”

They drag me down a dark alley, and I dig my heels into the ground, struggling with everything I have, but they’re strong, relentless. I flail, kicking and twisting, but they’re unfazed. One of them clamps a hand over my mouth as I try to scream, muffling my voice as panic overtakes me.

No, no, no! This can’t be happening!

My mind races, every nerve in my body on fire with terror as they haul me farther into the alley. I try to bite down on the hand covering my mouth, thrashing desperately. The grip around my arms is like steel, and I can feel myself growing weaker, my energy draining as I fight against them.

“Someone… anyone… please help!” My silent plea echoes in my mind as my vision blurs with unshed tears.

I think of my family, my little sister waiting for me to come home, and a wave of fierce determination surges through me. With renewed strength, I kick back, managing to land a blow on one of their shins. He grunts in pain, his hold slipping just slightly, and I take the chance, swinging my free arm and clawing at the man’s face. He curses, stumbling back.

But it’s not enough. The others close in, their expressions darkening, and my heart sinks. I scream again, but the sound is swallowed up by the walls around us. They’re too strong, and I’m trapped.

“Quit squirming,” one of them growls, yanking my arm hard enough to make my shoulder ache. “You’re only making this harder on yourself."

I can feel my strength fading, my kicks and punches weakening as panic claws at my chest. My voice is hoarse from screaming, but I can’t stop, even though it seems useless.

Every second stretches on, my hope slipping with each step they drag me further into the shadows, away from any chance of escape.

I feel hot tears spill over, blurring my vision, but I refuse to give up. “Let me go!” I choke out, kicking once more, though my movements are slowing.

But then, suddenly, there’s a flash of movement behind them, something fast and dark. Before I can even process what’s happening, one of the men is pulled back with a force so swift it’s almost inhuman.

He lets out a startled yell as he’s thrown to the ground, and I look up, my breath catching.

Christian stands there, his face a mask of cold, murderous fury and his eyes are blazing as he glares at the men.

Chapter 4 : MR HERO

HAZEL'S POV

Damn… all I can see is Christian moving like a shadow, like he is a hero in a James Bond movie.

He grabs the man nearest to him by the collar, slamming him into the alley wall with a sickening thud.

The others barely have time to react before he’s on them, fists flying with terrifying accuracy. One by one, they crumble under his onslaught.

I watch, frozen, my breath shallow. The sound of grunts and thuds echoes around me, the alley suddenly feeling colder.

The last man standing lunges at Christian with a knife, but it’s a pathetic attempt.

Christian sidesteps smoothly, twisting the man’s arm until the weapon clatters to the ground. He tosses the guy aside like he’s weightless, and the thug stumbles before bolting down the alley.

The silence is deafening.

Christian turns to me, his chest heaving. His suit is rumpled, his hair slightly disheveled, but his face is calm—too calm. He steps closer, his piercing gaze fixed on me.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, my throat too tight to speak.

“Good.” He grabs my arm—not hard, but firm enough to make it clear I don’t have a choice—and starts leading me back toward his car.

“Wait!” I yank my arm free, stumbling back. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

He spins around, his jaw clenched. “You’re joking, right? After what just happened, you’re seriously going to argue with me?”

“I didn’t ask for your help!” I snap, taking a step back. “And I definitely didn’t ask for you to act like some wannabe superhero!”

His eyes narrow. “You’d rather I left you with them? Is that it?”

I glare at him, my heart still pounding from the encounter. “That’s not the point!”

He crosses his arms, his expression unreadable. “Then what is the point, Hazel? Enlighten me.”

“The point is,” I say, my voice rising, “I don’t need you swooping in and acting like you own me just because you threw a few punches!”

Christian scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re unbelievable. Do you even hear yourself? You were screaming for help five minutes ago.”

“I was handling it!”

He actually laughs at that, a sharp, humorless sound. “You were ‘handling it’? Is that what you call getting dragged into an alley by three guys twice your size?”

I clench my fists, heat rushing to my face. “You don’t know me! You don’t know what I’m capable of!”

“And you don’t know what “they” were capable of!” he shoots back in. “God, you’re so stubborn. I just saved your life, and you can’t even say thank you?”

“Thank you?” I ask as I gaze at his smug face. “You want me to thank you for interfering in my life and then acting like I owe you something?”

He takes a step closer, towering over me, his jaw tight. “I didn’t interfere. I kept you alive. There’s a difference.”

I refuse to back down, even though my legs feel like jelly. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Christian. I didn’t ask for your protection, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for your proposal!”

His face hardens. “And yet, here we are.”

I let out a frustrated groan, throwing my hands up. “You’re impossible!”

“And you’re infuriating,” he mutters, shaking his head.

We stand there, glaring at each other, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.

Finally, he exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’m not trying to control you. But can we agree that maybe—just “maybe”—I’m not the bad guy here?”

I cross my arms, refusing to budge. “Fine. You’re not the bad guy. But you’re not a saint, either.”

He smirks, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Never said I was.”

The silence stretches between us again, less hostile now but still charged. Finally, Christian jerks his head toward the car. “Get in. We’re leaving.”

I hesitate, my pride warring with the practical side of me that knows I can’t exactly walk home after this.

“Hazel,” he says, his tone softer now but no less firm. “Please.”

The “please” catches me off guard, and before I can think too much about it, I sigh and stomp toward the car, yanking the door open and sliding in.

Christian gets in on the driver’s side, starting the engine without a word.

The car is silent except for the hum of the engine as we pull out of the alley. I keep my eyes fixed on the window, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he says after a few minutes, his tone annoyingly casual.

I roll my eyes, still staring out at the blur of city lights. “For what? Dragging me into this mess in the first place?”

He snorts. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re arrogant,” I shoot back.

“Arrogant? For saving your life?”

“Yes!”

He lets out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Good,” I snap. “I hope I’m the last.”

Christian glances at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes despite the tension. “You’re exhausting, you know that?”

“Then stop trying to save me,” I retort.

“Noted.”

The silence falls again, but it’s different this time. There’s something almost... electric about it, like neither of us wants to admit we don’t hate this back-and-forth as much as we pretend to.

I steal a glance at him, catching the way his hands grip the steering wheel, his jaw tight but not angry anymore. There’s something about him—something I can’t quite put my finger on. I don't trust this guy.

Before I can overthink it, the car swerves suddenly, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Christian!” I shout, grabbing onto the door as he yanks the wheel, narrowly avoiding a truck that seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Hold on!” he yells, his focus sharp as he maneuvers the car back into the lane.

My heart is in my throat as the car screeches, the tires barely holding their grip on the road.

Chapter 5: PRETTY FUN TO MESS WITH

HAZEL'S POV

The car finally screeches to a halt in front of my apartment building. My heart is still hammering from that close call, my hands still gripping the door like it's the only thing keeping me from flying out of the car.

"Okay, that’s it. I’m done." I unbuckle my seatbelt and throw open the door. “I’ll never get in your car again, Christian.”

He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat like he’s not the least bit concerned that he nearly got us both killed. “You say that now, but you’ll be back.”

“Not a chance,” I snap, slamming the door shut behind me. I turn to walk away, but then I hear him laughing again.

“You sure about that, Hazel? You’re just gonna walk home in the middle of the night after almost getting yourself kidnapped?” His voice follows me as I stomp toward the building’s entrance.

I stop, hands on my hips, turning to glare at him. “You really have a thing for making everything about you, don’t you? You save me, you nearly kill us, then you act like I should be grateful. You’re exhausting.”

Christian's grin only grows. “And you’re just fun to mess with. You know that?”

I huff, muttering under my breath as I spin back around and head toward the lobby. But just as my hand touches the door, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I glance at the screen. It’s the hospital.

My stomach lurches.

“Hello?” I answer quickly, my voice unsteady.

“Hazel?” The voice on the other end is a nurse. “Your mother’s condition has worsened. We need you to come in as soon as possible. It’s serious.”

My knees almost buckle. “What happened? Is she—?”

“She’s stable for now, but we need you here to make decisions,” the nurse interrupts gently.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be there.” My voice shakes, and I can’t get out of there fast enough.

I hang up and turn to face Christian, the panic now bubbling up inside me.

“Christian.” My voice is tight, almost pleading. “I need to get to the hospital. My mom’s in trouble. Can you—”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly finding some amusement in my desperation. “You want me to drive you?”

I can feel the blood rush to my face. “Yes, I do. You’re the one with the car, aren’t you?”

He laughs, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “Okay, okay, I’ll drive you, princess.”

His tone was filled with sarcasm, and it only fuels my frustration. “But first, you gotta admit I’m not so terrible, right?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll admit that when pigs fly.”

He smirks, clearly entertained by my irritation. “Fine, fine. Let’s get this show on the road.” He gestures toward the car, and I begrudgingly get in.

The ride to the hospital is silent at first, but I can’t stop my thoughts from racing, thinking about my mom, about what the nurse had said.

I try not to panic, but it’s hard. I keep looking at the clock, wishing we could get there faster, and every minute that ticks by feels like an hour.

Christian’s voice finally breaks the silence. “You know, I don’t think you’ve said thank you yet.”

I bite my lip, resisting the urge to snap at him. “You don’t want my gratitude, Christian.”

“I don’t?” He glances at me, his expression half-amused. “I thought you might’ve softened up after the whole ‘almost getting killed’ thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still not thrilled with the idea of you getting involved in my life.” My voice is tight, but I can’t help the way my emotions are bubbling over. “This is a personal situation. It’s not some game you can play with, alright?”

He doesn’t respond for a while, the car humming along the road. He seems to get the seriousness of the situation, but it’s like his humor can’t be turned off.

When we finally pull into the hospital parking lot, I can’t get out of the car fast enough. Christian follows me, still not entirely serious, but at least he’s not taunting me for once.

We reach the entrance, and I don’t waste any time walking through the double doors. I rush to the front desk, my eyes scanning for someone to help.

A nurse looks up. “Hazel, right? Your mom’s in Room 302. She’s not doing well.”

I nod, feeling the panic rising again. “Thank you.”

Christian’s voice is quieter now as he falls in step behind me. “I’m gonna wait here.”

“No. You’re coming with me.” I don’t want to be alone. Not now. I’m already a mess, and the last thing I need is him disappearing.

He doesn’t argue, just follows me into the hallway, his presence somehow both comforting and infuriating at the same time.

When we reach my mom’s room, I push open the door. She’s lying in the bed, looking so small and fragile. My heart breaks all over again.

“Mom,” I whisper, rushing to her side. “Mom, it’s me. I’m here.”

Her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me, confusion in her gaze. “Hazel? Honey, what’s going on?”

“Shh,” I murmur, smoothing her hair back. “Don’t worry, I’m here. I’m going to make sure you get better, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

Her weak smile barely reaches her eyes, but she nods. “You’re strong, sweetheart. You’ll take care of everything.”

I swallow hard, trying not to cry in front of her. “I will. I’ll take care of Daniella, too. I’ll handle everything, I promise.”

I feel Christian’s presence behind me, his gaze on me, though he doesn’t say a word.

I turn to him, finally meeting his eyes. “What is it with you and that stupid marriage proposal?”

Christian tilts his head, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “What’s the matter, Hazel? You afraid I might be serious?”

I can feel the heat rise to my face, and my mind races. He’s impossible. Infuriating. And yet… something about him pulls me in.

"It's a contract marriage… one that can change your life."