Chapter 1: Shadows At Night...

The city pulsed with life, a chaotic symphony of honking cars, flashing billboards, and hurried footsteps. But for Isabelle Monroe, the world outside had always been a distant blur—a place she existed in, but never truly belonged to.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped out of the café, the warm aroma of coffee still clinging to her clothes. The night air was crisp, a stark contrast to the comforting heat inside. She had stayed later than usual, lost in her thoughts, and now the streets were quieter, more ominous.

Pulling her coat tighter around her, she started walking, her heels clicking against the pavement. She wasn't far from home, but something about tonight felt different. The air was too still, the shadows too deep.

She quickened her pace.

A sudden shuffle of footsteps behind her made her heart jump. She turned her head slightly, trying to be subtle, but all she saw was a blur of movement—a figure lurking in the shadows.

Her breath caught.

Am I being followed?

She forced herself to keep walking, her mind racing. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just someone heading in the same direction. But when she turned the corner, the footsteps quickened too.

Panic clawed at her throat.

She wasn't imagining it. Someone was following her.

The logical part of her brain screamed for her to stay calm, to act normal. But every nerve in her body told her to run.

And then she did.

She bolted down the dimly lit alley, her breath coming in sharp gasps. She knew this route, knew the turns—if she could just make it to the main street, she'd be safe.

But her pursuer was faster.

A strong hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her back. A scream tore from her throat, but before she could fight, another hand covered her mouth.

"Shh," a voice murmured against her ear. Deep, smooth, and terrifyingly calm. "If you scream again, I won't be so gentle."

Her pulse pounded. She struggled against his grip, but he was too strong.

She felt herself being pushed against the cold brick wall of the alley, her heart slamming against her ribs. Her captor was tall, his frame towering over hers, his grip firm but not painful.

She finally dared to look up—and froze.

Dark eyes. Piercing, calculating. A face carved from stone—sharp jawline, high cheekbones, lips set in a firm line.

He was the most dangerously beautiful man she had ever seen.

But there was something else—something more terrifying than his strength, more chilling than his grip. A cold ruthlessness in his gaze.

"Who—who are you?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't answer immediately. He just stared at her, as if measuring her, deciding something. Then, slowly, he smirked.

"Damian Cross."

The name sent a shiver down her spine.

She had heard whispers of that name before. In hushed conversations, in news reports that never gave details—just speculation, fear. A name associated with death.

An assassin.

Her knees nearly buckled. Why was he here? And why was he after her?

She forced herself to stay calm, to think. "Why are you doing this?"

Damian tilted his head, his dark gaze unwavering. "Because you're already in danger, Isabelle."

The way he said her name made her stomach twist.

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

His grip loosened slightly, but he didn't let go. "You've been marked."

Her blood ran cold. "Marked?"

Damian let out a slow breath, as if deciding how much to tell her. "You don't need to know who. Just that someone powerful wants you gone."

Her heart hammered in her chest. "That doesn't make sense. I'm no one."

Damian's gaze darkened. "Not anymore."

She didn't know whether to believe him or not, but everything about this situation screamed danger. And yet… he hadn't hurt her.

If he was an assassin, why was he warning her?

"You're lying," she whispered.

He leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. "Do I look like I lie, Isabelle?"

She swallowed hard. No. He looked like the kind of man who only spoke the truth, even if it was terrifying.

Silence stretched between them.

Then, he sighed, his expression shifting just slightly. "I don't have time to explain. But if you want to live, you need to come with me."

Her instincts screamed at her to run. To get away from him.

But deep down, she knew—this was bigger than her.

And she had just stepped into a world she didn't understand.

With one last breath, she whispered, "Okay.