The rain didn't come down that night - it struck. Heavy waves pounded Eastwood's roads, so wild they smeared each hue into shaky lines. Bright signs melted into wobbly glows on wet ground, making walks look like pools of disorder. Runoff raced through drains like restless streams, dragging butts, burger papers, and scraps from a town always awake.
The storm moved like it had a mind. It snarled, cracked, screamed - like some wild thing hunting in darkness.
Naomi Hart pulled her flimsy coat closer, trying to block out the chill. The material was weak, drenched from the rain, while icy air seeped deep into her body, sticking like a stray thought you can't shake. Her soggy shoes squished with each quick stride, uneven and loud on the wet pavement. Beside her leg, a torn grocery bag tapped against her again and again, making noise with every move she made.
Inside sat painkillers, a pack of antibiotics - plus a tiny bottle of medicine keeping her mom steady till tomorrow.
One more day, Naomi barely managed. One more time, survival felt unlikely.
Working odd shifts - serving coffee, filling store racks, wiping down desks - just about covered the power bill. Medical debts pulled her under like floodwater swallowing sidewalks. She started knowing nurses from their voices, worn-out physicians by how they walked, machine alerts by their individual hums.
More than once, she'd sat through the night in dim-lit spaces where walls cracked and faded. Morning after morning began with Naomi stepping into her job, eyes puffy, sorrow from the day before dragging behind.
Her phone buzzed.
She figured it out right away - didn't even need to check.
Pay right away - last warning's included.
She gulped. Fear tasted like metal, stinging her tongue. "I get it... I do," she said low, but the wind drowned every word out.
She walked on, sloshing through puddles, soaking her shoes. Around her, things got fuzzy - lights stretched into glowing blobs, store signs rocked back and forth, while the storm pressed down like it wanted to drown her mind.
She hardly paid attention these days -
A sound broke out - quiet, sharp like metal - cutting into the noise.
"I said no. I don't care what the board thinks. If he wants to challenge me, let him."
Naomi halted right then - almost lost her footing. Yet stayed upright somehow.
That sound wasn't from the road. Yet it stood out clearly. Instead, it ripped right through the downpour.
She turned.
A man stood by himself right in the center of the street, as the downpour had just moved around him. Rain soaked through his gray suit, running off a coat that could've covered half her rent. His black hair clung tight to his scalp, pulled back by the weather, showing features cut like stone.
He seemed hewn from rock - dull-eyed, stern, steady. Not warm. More rigid than most. Tough as a wall. Hard to move once set.
Still, the rain couldn't reach his core.
He pressed a phone to his ear, talking in a steady but fierce tone that cut through the dark. Power came from him in waves - not loud, just sharp, pulling attention without asking.
Naomi caught her eyes glued - she hadn't meant to look.
Who was this guy? Because the storm seemed to blow just to show him off.
There was a weird vibe around him. Yet he kept pulling your attention somehow.
Then—she saw it.
A flash of lights. As it turned sharply, the vehicle slid - wheels screeching on wet pavement.
"Sir! Watch out!"
Her scream vanished into the roar of lightning.
He stayed still. Yet he made no sound. Still, his body froze.
He stayed glued to his phone - maybe didn't even notice anything else.
Naomi ran.
Fear hit fast - like a spark down her spine. Water slapped under each step, wind tore at her hands, yet her mind screamed one thing only. A raw cry looped inside - a need to survive.
Keep him alive. Save his life.
Right when the car shot by, he moved back. Though not enough to stay clear.
His left hand hit a metal pole hard. That noise cut through the downpour - sudden, harsh.
Blood slid down his arm like a thick streak, quickly diluted by the pouring rain.
Naomi sucked in a breath. No way he did that.
He just stood there, calm as ever.
Hold on - ya got injured!" she yelled, grabbing his arm.
He looked her way - could've been a coincidence. Their gazes locked, yet she suddenly couldn't breathe.
Those eyes - hollow, yet piercing. Not just icy, but somehow threatening. A kind of threat she didn't have words for.
Yet a spark showed up - short, quiet - a feeling kind of like wonder… maybe familiarity… perhaps strategy.
"It's nothing," he said. His tone felt dull, steady - somehow even uninterested.
"That's 'nothing'!" Naomi insisted, tugging gently. "You're bleeding—please, just let me help."
She figured he might say no. For a second, it seemed like he was that type - someone who'd never let another person step in.
Yet he trailed behind her.
Not due to trust - nor from needing aid - but simply because he was… watching her.
Naomi rushed him into the hospital's waiting room, guiding him to a seat. Above them, bright lights blinked unevenly, throwing sharp dark shapes across the floor. That clean chemical scent filled his nose, while stretchers rolled past and someone hacked from down the hall - strangely enough, it all seemed like something he'd lived before.
She looked over to where the nurses were. Hold on a sec, I'll bring somebody -
It lasted just three seconds. Only three.
She looked again - nobody there.
He had vanished.
No trace of steps to show he'd shown up - just a tiny streak of blood across the chair's arm. Instead of footprints, only that red mark stayed behind.
Naomi's heart pounded hard. "Uh… sir?"
Yet he'd vanished - lost in the maze of hallways or buried beneath the raging weather beyond. Not a clue. Impossible to tell.
She went out once more a few minutes after. Though the downpour now barely shook the air - soft, nearly kind - the wind inside her hadn't settled at all.
She'd bumped into a force way beyond her grasp - something alien to her daily grind of payments, burnout, tiredness, plus sterile clinics.
She still remembered how he looked.
She couldn't.
The following day, everything changed once more.
Naomi left the little clinic where she got affordable meds, clutching her supply bag tight. Cold air bit at her skin while puddles glistened under gray skies. Her mind kept drifting back to what happened the night before - jumpy, uneven, like broken static.
A smooth, dark vehicle eased up next to her.
The window slid down with a quiet, steady buzz.
"Miss Naomi Hart?"
She gasped, air stuck in her neck.
The guy who walked out wasn't the same one from yesterday - but every little thing about him shouted wealth. The way he stood, those gloves on his hands, or even that flawless suit - all seemed pricier than her rent each month.
"Yeah?" she said, her tone shaky.
The guy fixed his glove's edge. "Storm wants a word," he said
"Mr. who—?"
"Lucian Storm."
Her mind stuttered.
Storm. Storm Global. That Storm.
The CEO is called "the coldest man alive." A billionaire everyone talks about, though almost no one spots. Seen by the press as sharp, harsh, and impossible to reach.
She couldn't remember how to breathe.
The guy standing in the downpour... Not even blinking while hurt... His vibe? Like trouble shaped him piece by piece -
Was him?
The guard pulled the vehicle's door wide. He stepped back after letting her out.
"Mr. Storm is waiting."
Naomi gripped her bag tight, heart slamming. Around her, things wobbled like the ground wasn't steady - edges snapped into focus then melted away.
Why her?
She didn't have cash or connections - stuff Lucian Storm wouldn't even look at. Zero chance he'd care about someone so broke.
Maybe... maybe what happened last night mattered more than she thought.
A weird, shaky feeling hummed just beside her mind.
This wasn't only a gathering. Yet this split second broke her usual days.
The instant wind touched her skin.
The month set to flip life upside down...was starting now.