Chapter 3: Enemy or Savior

Rain painted the windows like a song—soft, rhythmic, and relentless. The Parisian streets below shimmered under the glow of golden lamps, blurred by falling drops and foggy glass. Inside her apartment, Alina stood barefoot in the kitchen, wrapping her palms around a warm cup of tea. The scent of cardamom floated in the air—a little comfort on a stormy evening.

She took a sip and turned toward the window, breathing in the peaceful silence. But peace was never meant to last when Evander Ross lived next door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three sharp raps on her door. Not the polite kind. Not the kind that waited.

She narrowed her eyes, annoyed by the interruption. Setting her cup down, she walked to the door and opened it, only to find Evander standing there, drenched slightly, jacket unzipped, expression cold.

"Lost something?" she asked, voice flat.

Evander didn't waste time. "A parcel. It was delivered today—rare, personal, expensive. And the delivery man says it was left here."

Alina blinked with confused state. "Nothing came here.

He: Really? Asked with a stare.

Alina: You think I'd hide your precious package for fun?"

He tilted his head. "Well, maybe not for fun. Maybe for money."

Alina's jaw dropped. "Excuse me Mr. Evander Ross?"

"You seem… resourceful," he said coolly, eyes scanning her tiny hallway. "If you needed cash, you could've asked. No need to steal." Tell me how much you want ??? He asked with give it a thought.

Her blood boiled. "You arrogant, delusional—"

"I mean it," he cut her off. "If it's about money, I can pay. Just give me back the damn parcel."

"There. Is. No. Parcel!" she snapped, stepping closer. "And not everyone's desperate for your rich-boy charity." Show your wealth and arrogance elsewhere...

Evander smirked, unbothered. "You do get worked up quite easily. Guilty conscience, perhaps?"

Alina pointed at the door. "Out. Before I call someone to drag you out."

He took a mocking step back. "Fine. But don't expect me to stay polite next time."

"I wasn't expecting anything from you." and never will.

With that, she slammed the door shut, her heartbeat loud in the silence that followed. Her tea had gone cold.

An hour later, Alina pulled her coat tighter and hurried down the cobbled street toward the library. Rain had slowed to a drizzle, and her boots clicked against wet stone. The library was warm, familiar, a little chaotic—just how she liked it. She spent hours sorting shelves, helping readers, and getting lost in a pile of books that needed organizing. It was indeed a swamped day to her, she was exhausted by overtime work but she was happy as she works of her interest.

When her shift finally ended, the streets were almost empty, and the night had grown darker, heavier. The rain has stopped but the thunder sound was horrible. She had been scared of thunder since her childhood. There's no reason but maybe it's because she has a weak heart.

Halfway home, she took a shortcut through a narrow alley, ignoring the growing sense of unease. Her feets were screaming in pain because of her leather boots, She just wanted to reach her apartment, take a hot shower, and forget Evander's stupid face.

But fate had other plans.

Three men leaned against a wall ahead, laughter echoing into the stillness. As she passed, one stepped forward. Then another.

"Hey, pretty girl," one slurred. "Where you headed?"

Alina didn't answer. Her steps quickened.

"Don't be shy!" Another man grabbed her wrist lightly. "We just wanna talk."

She pulled back, heart thudding in her chest. "Let me go."

One leaned in closer. "C'mon, don't play hard to get."

When his hand reached toward her, panic rose in her throat.

And then—out of nowhere—another voice cut through the alley.

"Back. Off."

Evander's tall figure emerged from the shadows, eyes dark and deadly. The men paused, sizing him up. Something about his presence—the way he held himself, like a storm in human form—made them reconsider. Without a word, they muttered and stumbled off into the night.

Alina stood frozen, body trembling. Her legs gave in, and before she realized it, she had stepped forward, clutching Evander's shirt, burying her face in his chest.

Tears spilled freely now. She hated that it had come to this. Hated the fear, the helplessness… the comfort she found in his arms.

"I-I was just walking home," she whispered brokenly.

Evander didn't say anything. But his arms circled her shoulders with a gentleness that didn't match the sharp words he'd used earlier.

"I know," he said softly. "I know."

As the rain returned and wrapped the city in silence again, the night stood still around them.

But as Alina stood in Evander's arms, one question echoed louder than thunder—

"Is he just a stranger who saved me… or someone my heart will regret trusting?"