Chapter 1: The Man Who Wasn't Supposed to Survive
The night I saved Adrian Kane, I had no idea I was rescuing the most dangerous man in New York City.
I only knew that someone was bleeding in an alley, and two men with guns were looking for him.
And I knew what it felt like to be hunted.
My name was Wren. I was twenty-eight years old, homeless, and had spent the last ten years sleeping wherever the police wouldn't chase me away.
My only possessions were a torn backpack, a pair of gloves with holes in the fingertips, and six feet of tangled hair that I refused to cut.
People thought I was crazy for keeping it.
They didn't know what I remembered.
A burning house.
A gold necklace.
And a man's voice whispering into my ear.
"Never let anyone see your face, little girl. If they recognize you, they'll come back.""
I had been eight years old.
I couldn't remember his face.
But I remembered being terrified.
That particular October night, the rain came down hard enough to turn the sidewalks into rivers.
I was searching behind a closed restaurant for discarded food when I heard a groan.
I stopped.
"Help...""
The voice came from the narrow alley beside the building.
I should have kept walking.
New York had taught me that helping strangers could get you killed.
But then I heard it again.
"Please...""
I stepped around a pile of garbage bags.
A man was lying against the brick wall. His expensive black coat was soaked with blood. One hand pressed against his abdomen, while the other held a silver pistol.
His face was pale.
His breathing was shallow.
"Don't come closer," he warned.
I raised both hands.
"I'm not going to hurt you.""
"Then leave.""
I looked at the blood spreading beneath him.
"You won't survive out here.""
He gave a bitter laugh.
"That's not your problem.""
Before I could answer, headlights swept across the alley entrance.
Two men stepped out of a black SUV.
One carried a pistol.
The other held a flashlight.
"Check behind the dumpsters!"" the first man shouted.
The injured stranger immediately tried to stand.
He collapsed with a strangled groan.
I grabbed his shoulder.
"Stop moving!""
"Get away from me.""
"Would you shut up for five seconds?""
He stared at me.
Apparently, nobody spoke to him that way.
The flashlight moved closer.
"He's somewhere around here!""
I looked at the man.
Then at the enormous mass of tangled hair falling down my back.
An idea came to me.
It was a terrible idea.
But it was the only one I had.
"Can you lie flat?""
His jaw tightened.
"Why?""
"Because unless you want those men to shoot you, you're going to trust me.""
I pulled several flattened cardboard boxes from beside the dumpster and spread them over his body.
Then I lowered myself beside him, letting my long hair spill across the cardboard.
From the entrance, we probably looked like another pile of discarded blankets and trash.
The first armed man approached.
"Hey! You!""
I didn't move.
He kicked the cardboard.
"Get up!""
I opened my eyes slowly.
"What?""
"Have you seen a man come through here?""
I scratched my head.
"Nobody comes through here. It's freezing.""
He looked at my dirty clothes and wrinkled his nose.
"Move that junk.""
I tightened my fingers around the cardboard covering Adrian.
"That's all I've got.""
The man raised his flashlight.
For one horrible second, its beam stopped inches from Adrian's face.
Then his partner shouted from the other end of the alley.
"Nothing here! Let's go!""
The first man cursed.
"He's got to be nearby.""
He kicked an empty can and walked away.
I didn't breathe until the SUV disappeared.
Then I pulled the cardboard away.
The stranger's eyes were closed.
"Hey.""
Nothing.
I slapped his cheek lightly.
"Hey! Don't you dare die after making me do all that.""
His eyes opened.
"You're...""
"Beautiful? I know. Now sit up.""
Despite his injury, he almost smiled.
I helped him lean against the wall.
He studied my face.
"Why did you help me?""
"Because you were dying.""
"People don't usually help strangers in this city.""
I shrugged.
"People don't usually ask before bleeding all over someone's hiding place.""
He let out a quiet laugh, then winced.
I found a clean-ish piece of fabric in my backpack and pressed it against his wound.
He grabbed my wrist.
"What's your name?""
"Wren.""
"Adrian.""
"Nice to meet you, Adrian. Try not to bleed to death.""
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a phone.
His fingers shook as he dialed.
"Marco. Bring the car. Now.""
A man's voice answered immediately.
"Mr. Kane? Where are you?""
"West Thirty-Ninth. Alley behind the restaurant.""
"Are you injured?""
Adrian glanced at the blood covering his shirt.
"What do you think?""
"Jesus Christ. We're coming.""
Adrian ended the call.
I stepped back.
"Well, you're not my problem anymore.""
He caught my sleeve.
"Wait.""
"What?""
"Those men may come back.""
I stared at him.
"Then you should leave before they do.""
His expression changed.
"You have somewhere safe to go?""
I didn't answer.
He looked at my backpack, my wet shoes, and the cardboard beneath me.
For the first time, I noticed that he wasn't looking at me with disgust.
He was looking at me with something resembling sadness.
"How long have you been living outside?""
"Long enough.""
"Family?""
"None.""
"Friends?""
I smiled without humor.
"Do you see anyone waiting for me?""
A black SUV screeched into the alley.
Three men jumped out.
The one in front rushed toward Adrian.
"Boss!""
He dropped to one knee.
"Who did this?""
Adrian pointed toward the street.
"Later. Get me out of here.""
Then he looked at me.
"You're coming with us.""
I shook my head.
"I don't get into strange cars.""
One of his men looked offended.
Adrian almost laughed.
"Fair enough.""
He took a black business card from his pocket and placed it in my hand.
"Tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock. The address is on the back.""
"What happens tomorrow?""
He held my gaze.
"I repay debts.""
Before I could ask what that meant, his men lifted him into the SUV.
The car disappeared into the rain.
I turned the card over.
Adrian Kane.
Kane Holdings.
And beneath his name was an address in Manhattan.
I didn't know who he was.
But I was about to find out that I had saved the wrong man's life.
Or perhaps the right one.
Because at 2:17 a.m., a man in a black suit stepped out of another vehicle across the street.
He looked directly at me.
Then he lifted his phone.
"Sir," he said quietly, "we found the girl.""
May you like
And somewhere across Manhattan, someone answered:
"Then make sure Adrian never sees her again.""
