Two weeks later…
"Zara, it's already 9 p.m.! You're going to be late for work. Hurry up, amor, please—tonight doesn't feel safe. And it's Friday… you know exactly what happens on Friday nights."
Mari's voice echoed with worry.
"Just a second, Mari! I'll be done soon!" I yelled back, rushing to fix my hair and apply a little lip gloss.
Of all days, today had to be Mari's off day, which meant I was going to work alone. Why today of all days?
I stepped out of our apartment.
"Hey girl, I'm leaving! Don't miss me too much!" I called out jokingly.
But Mari didn't smile. She held my arms tightly, fear shining in her eyes.
"Zara… no matter what you hear or see tonight, don't do anything stupid. Just walk away from anything strange. Promise me."
"Okay, okay. I won't. Trust me."
I hugged her and left.
Outside, the streets were unusually empty. No taxis. No movement. Nothing. I walked quickly, checking behind me to make sure no one was following.
Just before I turned left to look for another taxi, a young woman—covered in blood—grabbed my hand.
"Please, ma'am… save my baby. Don't let them kill us."
Her voice trembled.
My heart stopped.
I wanted to run… but then I looked at the tiny girl in her arms. The mother's eyes were filled with so much fear and desperation.
"Please… just for my baby…" she whispered.
"There she is! Don't let that bitch escape!"
Men shouted from behind us.
Without thinking, I took the baby from her and ran for my life—and for the crying child in my arms. I sprinted so fast I didn't see the man standing in front of me. I slammed into him.
"I—I'm so sorry, sir!" I gasped, bowing with fear and trembling. The baby wailed louder.
The man grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up. His grip was strong, unyielding.
"Do you know where you are, young lady?" he asked, confusion flickering in his icy blue eyes.
I froze. His face was perfect—too perfect. Serious, cold, dangerous… his brown hair messy in the night breeze, lips shaped like they were carved by an artist.
How can a man be this beautiful?
"Hey. Are you listening to me?"
"Yes, sir… but I have to go. Please. I need to keep this baby safe."
His eyes narrowed. "Is this your baby?"
"No. I don't know her. Her mother begged me to take her. Some men are chasing us—she's probably dead by now. Please… let me go."
Before he could answer, the men caught up. My heart dropped.
Oh no… this is the end. Lord, please…
I hid behind the man instinctively, praying he'd help.
The men pointed a gun at him.
"She's ours, dude. Hand her over or die with her."
"She came to me for help," the man said calmly. "Do yourselves a favor and run for your lives before I lose my mind."
They burst out laughing.
"Mr. Hero, we're not here to joke. Hand her over."
"Okay," he said coolly, "come take her."
"What?" I cried. "No… no, please don't! I'm new here—please, don't let them take me! I swear I won't interfere again!"
Tears streamed down my face.
One of the men reached to grab me—
But in a flash, the stranger twisted his arm backward with such force the man screamed in agony. The others raised their guns, but suddenly dozens of men surrounded them.
The stranger smirked.
"I told you to run," he said.
"But Marco doesn't give chances twice."