Halena

The wind howled through the empty streets, carrying the scent of rain-soaked pavement and distant gasoline fumes. The cold seeped through my drenched dress, wrapping around my body like icy chains. My limbs trembled, my fingers numb as I pulled my thin cardigan tighter around me, but it did little to stop the violent shivers wrecking my frame.

Darkness stretched endlessly ahead, broken only by the occasional flicker of streetlights, their glow weak against the merciless downpour.

I had nothing.

No home. No money. No direction.

Only the weight of my past pressing down on me, suffocating me with every step I took.

I didn’t know where I was going.

But I knew one thing—I couldn’t go back.

I had left Livingston behind, the town that had caged me my whole life. My only dream was to build something for myself in Edinburgh, to finally breathe without the weight of my past dragging me down.

But I hadn’t expected the city to be this unforgiving.

The rain had started hours ago, a mere drizzle at first. But now, it was an unrelenting storm, soaking me to the bone, making the cobblestone streets slick beneath my unsteady steps.

I was exhausted.

My stomach twisted in hunger, my body aching from hours of wandering. Every hotel I had passed either required more money than I had or had turned me away the moment they saw my drenched, desperate state.

I clenched my jaw, swallowing the fear clawing up my throat.

I had come here for a fresh start.

But now, I wasn’t sure if I’d even survive the night.

A deep rumble of thunder shook the air.

Then—

Headlights.

Bright, cutting through the darkness like piercing golden eyes.

A car.

Moving with a quiet dominance that made the rest of the world feel insignificant in its wake.

I hesitated.

Should I stop it?

Panic and desperation fought inside me.

But then a gust of wind hit me with full force, nearly knocking me over.

I had no choice.

I stumbled forward, lifting a trembling hand.

The car didn’t slow.

I froze.

My heart pounded as it came closer, its powerful frame a shadow against the storm.

Would it stop?

Or would I be just another forgotten girl lost in the night?

A second passed.

Then another.

And then—

The tires screeched.

The smell of burnt rubber filled the air.

The vehicle halted just inches from me.

Silence.

My breath caught in my throat.

Then the door swung open.

And he stepped out.

---

A man.

Tall. Imposing. A dark presence against the storm.

Even through the downpour, I could see the sharp angles of his face, the chiseled perfection of his jawline. His gaze, cold and piercing, locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

He wore a black suit—tailored, pristine—though the rain was beginning to soak through the fabric. But he didn’t seem to care.

He stood still. Unshaken. A figure of absolute control.

The air between us crackled with something I couldn’t name.

His eyes narrowed.

Then he spoke.

His voice was deep. Smooth.

But there was something lethal beneath the surface.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I flinched.

The authority in his tone sent a wave of unease through me.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my throat tightening.

“I—I didn’t mean to—” My voice cracked. “I just… I need help.”

A long pause.

His eyes swept over me, assessing. Calculating.

My wet dress clung to my body, my feet bare from having lost my shoes in the storm. I knew what I must have looked like—pathetic. Vulnerable.

His jaw tensed.

“You’re stupid.”

The words were clipped.

Blunt.

I swallowed. “I had no choice.”

Another silence stretched between us.

His eyes flickered, something unreadable passing through them.

Then, with an exasperated sigh, he raked a hand through his damp hair.

“Get in.”

I blinked. “What?”

He exhaled sharply. “I don’t repeat myself.”

My instincts screamed at me.

This was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

But so was the night.

And so was dying in the cold.

I had no choice.

With a pounding heart, I stepped forward.

And got in.

---

The car’s interior was warm.

The scent of leather, mixed with something dark and masculine, wrapped around me. The contrast between the cold outside and the heat inside was almost suffocating.

I hesitated, stealing a glance at the man beside me.

He hadn’t spoken since we started driving.

His fingers gripped the steering wheel with quiet control, his jaw set in a hard line. The city lights blurred outside the window, but my focus remained on him.

Everything about him screamed power.

Control.

Danger.

I cleared my throat, my voice hesitant. “Thank you… for stopping.”

He didn’t look at me.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

The words sent a chill down my spine.

The rest of the car ride was suffocatingly silent, broken only by the rhythmic purr of the engine and the occasional swipe of the windshield wipers. I sat stiffly, my hands curled into my lap, stealing hesitant glances at the man beside me.

I didn’t know his name, but something about the way he carried himself—unbothered, sharp, and in complete control—told me he was someone important. Someone powerful.

I swallowed, my throat dry.

I needed to ask.

I needed to know who exactly I had just agreed to follow.

But the words clung to the back of my throat, tangled with nerves and uncertainty.

We drove through the city, past towering glass buildings and high-end restaurants, until the streets became quieter, more refined. The car turned onto a long, winding driveway lined with manicured hedges and dimly lit streetlamps.

I tensed.

My fingers gripped the fabric of my drenched dress as my heart pounded against my ribs.

This wasn’t just a house. It was a mansion.

No, not just a mansion—a palace.

The grand estate loomed before us, its pristine white façade illuminated by warm golden lights. The architecture was breathtaking, all sharp angles and smooth elegance, with towering windows that reflected the stormy sky. A wrought iron gate had already parted for us, as if expecting our arrival.

My stomach twisted.

Who was he?

The car rolled to a smooth stop in the circular driveway, just before the massive double doors. My breath hitched as I took in the sight. The entrance alone was bigger than the apartment I had lived in back home.

The realization hit me like a slap—he wasn’t just rich.

He was filthy rich.

The kind of wealth that made people untouchable.

The kind of wealth that set men like him apart from girls like me.

I turned to him slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He didn’t look at me as he unbuckled his seatbelt, his movements effortless, unbothered.

Gathering my courage, I hesitated before speaking.

“…Who are you?”

He stilled.

For a moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched between us, thick with something unreadable.

Then, finally, he turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze pinning me in place.

“Ezra Knight.”

His name settled in my chest, heavy and unfamiliar.

I swallowed. “And what do you do, Ezra Knight?”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, yet held the same level of arrogance. “I own things.”

I frowned. “Own what?”

“Everything.”

The word was spoken with such effortless confidence that I had no doubt he meant it. My fingers curled against my damp clothes, unease creeping along my skin.

Before I could press further, he exhaled sharply and pushed open the door.

“Get out.”

I flinched at the command in his tone.

He didn’t wait for me.

Stepping out into the rain, he strode toward the entrance, his tall frame cutting through the dim glow of the mansion’s exterior lights. His presence demanded attention, each movement precise, powerful.

I hesitated, gripping the car door.

He was already at the entrance when he turned slightly, his expression impatient.

“I said get out.”

I startled at the sheer authority in his voice. There was no room for negotiation, no softness, no patience.

Shaking off my hesitation, I stepped out into the cold, my legs unsteady from exhaustion. My soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to my skin as I followed him inside, my heart racing.

The moment I stepped through the doors, warmth enveloped me.

The interior was just as breathtaking as the outside—grand chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting soft golden light across the polished marble floors. The air smelled of expensive cologne and fresh linen, a stark contrast to the damp chill that clung to my body.

I stood frozen, overwhelmed.

A soft voice broke through my daze.

“Good evening, Mr. Knight.”

I turned to see a woman standing near the grand staircase. She was older, with graying hair neatly pinned into a bun and warm, knowing eyes. Her uniform was crisp, her demeanor poised.

She glanced at me briefly before turning her attention back to Ezra. “Shall I prepare the guest room?”

Ezra nodded once. “Make sure she gets food and dry clothes.”

I opened my mouth to protest—I didn’t want to impose—but the woman, who I assumed was some sort of housekeeper, smiled gently.

“Come, dear,” she said softly. “Let’s get you warm.”

I hesitated, glancing at Ezra.

His sharp gaze met mine, unreadable. “Go.”

I swallowed, then nodded.

The woman led me up the grand staircase, her steps light against the polished floors.

“My name is Mrs. Martin,” she said as we walked. “I take care of the household.”

I nodded hesitantly. “I—thank you.”

She simply smiled, leading me down a long hallway until we reached a beautifully furnished guest room. The walls were painted in soft shades of cream, the massive bed adorned with plush pillows. A fire crackled gently in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the room.

Mrs. Martin guided me to a small attached bathroom where fresh towels and a set of clothes waited. “I’ll have food sent up shortly.”

I turned to her, unsure how to respond. “I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

She chuckled. “Just rest, dear.”

With that, she left, closing the door softly behind her.

I stood frozen for a moment, staring at the unfamiliar luxury around me.

Then, slowly, exhaustion crept in.

I changed into the soft, warm clothes provided—a simple yet elegant cotton nightdress—and let the heat from the fire thaw my frozen skin.

By the time the food arrived, my limbs felt impossibly heavy. I ate in silence, my mind racing, my heart torn between gratitude and unease.

I needed to leave.

I had been reckless enough for one night.

Whatever Ezra’s reasons were for bringing me here, I couldn’t stay.

Tomorrow, I would slip out before he woke.

With that decision made, I curled into the softest bed I had ever slept in, my body sinking into the warmth.

Sleep took me instantly.

---

The Next Morning

A sharp knock on the door jolted me awake.

I sat up abruptly, my heart pounding.

For a moment, I forgot where I was.

Then, the events of last night crashed back in.

The storm. The car. Ezra.

The knock came again, firmer this time.

Before I could answer, the door swung open.

Ezra stood in the doorway, looking as sharp and intimidating as ever. He had changed into a crisp black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. His expression was unreadable, but there was something sharp in his gaze.

“You’re awake.”

It wasn’t a question.

I swallowed, gripping the blanket around me. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said, stepping inside. “Now start talking.”

I blinked. “W-what?”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Who are you, Halena Carter?”

My throat went dry.

I hesitated.

His gaze darkened. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

I flinched at the authority in his tone.

With a shaky breath, I forced myself to speak.

“I—I came to Edinburgh for a fresh start.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “I wanted to be an artist.”

Ezra didn’t react. He just watched me, waiting.

I hesitated, then continued. “I left my hometown. I had nowhere to go. I thought I could figure it out once I got here.”

He exhaled sharply. “And yet you ended up wandering the streets, alone, in a storm?”

Shame burned through me.

“I ran out of money.”

A heavy silence settled between us.

Ezra’s jaw tightened, his fingers tapping against his bicep. “No family?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable.

For a long moment, he said nothin

g.

Then, finally, he pushed off the wall.

“You’re reckless.” His voice was cold, laced with irritation. “But I don’t believe in coincidences.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

His gaze met mine, sharp and unwavering.

“You ended up in my car for a reason, Halena.”

I shivered under the intensity of his stare.

Whatever he meant by that, I had a feeling my life was about to change forever.

---