A dangerous love. A forbidden passion. And a secret that could destroy them both.
The Stranger in the Rain
The first time Helena saw him, it was in the middle of a storm.
She was standing beneath the awning of a café, watching the rain pour down, when he stepped out of the shadows. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes that seemed to pierce through her. His suit was soaked, his hair dripping with rain, but he didn't seem to care.
Their eyes met.
A shiver ran down her spine-not from the cold, but from the intensity in his gaze.
Then he was gone, disappearing into the night, leaving behind only the scent of rain and something darker... something forbidden.
Helena didn't know then that the man she had just seen would soon consume her world.
A Touch of Sin
Days passed, but she couldn't stop thinking about him.
Then, one evening, he appeared again. This time, in the dim glow of the bar where she worked.
"Whiskey. Neat," he said, his voice deep, commanding.
She poured his drink, but her hands trembled slightly as she placed it before him. He noticed.
"You remember me."
It wasn't a question.
Helena swallowed, trying to ignore the heat pooling in her stomach. "You don't forget a man like you."
He smirked, taking a slow sip. "And yet, you don't even know my name."
Her pulse quickened. "Then tell me."
He leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin. "Damien."
The way he said it sent a wave of heat through her.
She should have walked away. Should have ignored the way her body responded to him.
But when he reached out, brushing a finger against her wrist, a spark ignited between them-one she knew would burn her alive.
Losing Control
Helena didn't invite him home that night. She didn't have to.
One look. One touch. That was all it took.
The door to her apartment barely shut before Damien's hands were on her-pushing her against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a kiss that stole her breath.
She moaned against his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed her against him, letting her feel just how much he wanted her.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he growled, his voice thick with desire.
"Then show me," she whispered.
His control snapped.
Clothes were torn, breathless gasps filled the room, and soon she was beneath him-her body arching, her skin burning, her mind lost in the pleasure only he could give her.
Every touch was fire. Every kiss a promise.
And as he moved against her, inside her, claiming her in ways no one ever had, she knew one thing for certain.
She was his.
Completely.
The darkest Secret
The morning after, Helena woke to an empty bed.
But she wasn't alone.
A single red rose lay on her pillow. A note beside it, written in elegant, precise handwriting.
"This was never supposed to happen."
Her stomach twisted.
Because she knew now who Damien was.
And she knew exactly why she should have stayed away.
He wasn't just a man.
He was the man sent to kill her.
The Truth in Shadows
Helena stared at the note, her hands trembling.
"This was never supposed to happen."
The weight of those words pressed against her chest, suffocating her.
She had felt it-that edge of danger in Damien's touch, the way he held her as if he was fighting something within himself. But she had ignored it, blinded by desire, by the way he made her feel.
Now, she understood.
Damien wasn't just any man.
He was a killer.
And she was his target.
The Last Warning
Helena didn't hear him enter. But she felt him.
A shift in the air. A presence behind her.
"You're still here."
His voice was low, filled with something dark-regret, warning, or maybe both.
Slowly, she turned to face him. He stood in the doorway, his dark suit still rumpled from the night before, his gaze unreadable.
"You were sent to kill me," she said, her voice steady despite the way her heart pounded.
Damien exhaled sharply. "Yes."
The admission hit her like a knife to the chest.
"Then why didn't you?"
He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. "Because I couldn't."
Helena swallowed hard. "Why?"
His fingers brushed against her cheek, the gentleness of the touch contradicting everything she now knew about him.
"Because you made me feel alive again," he murmured. "And now... I can't let them have you."
Her breath hitched. "Them?"
Damien's jaw clenched. "The people who hired me. They don't tolerate failure. If I don't finish the job, someone else will."
A chill ran down her spine.
"So, what happens now?" she whispered.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.
"Now, we run."
The Chase
The city was no longer safe.
Within hours, Helena and Damien were on the move, fleeing into the night, leaving behind everything she had ever known.
She should have been terrified.
But as she sat beside Damien in a stolen car, his fingers gripping the wheel, his expression hardened in determination, all she felt was trust.
"I can protect you," he said, his voice firm.
She believed him.
Because despite everything, she knew one truth:
Damien had chosen her over the life he had always known. And that meant he would kill for her.
Or die for her.
Blood and Devotion
They weren't fast enough.
The hitmen found them in an abandoned motel on the outskirts of the city. The first bullet shattered the window. The second barely missed Damien's head.
Chaos erupted.
Gunshots, bodies falling, the scent of blood thick in the air.
Damien fought like a man with nothing to lose, his movements precise, ruthless. But there were too many of them.
Helena grabbed a fallen gun, her hands shaking. She had never killed before.
But for Damien, she would.
With a deep breath, she aimed-and pulled the trigger.
The man who had been creeping up behind Damien collapsed, blood blooming across his chest.
Damien turned, his eyes wide.
Helena's hands trembled, but her voice was steady.
"Nobody touches you but me."
For a moment, silence stretched between them.
Then Damien grabbed her, his lips crashing against hers in a bruising, desperate kiss.
"God, I love you," he growled against her lips.
Her fingers tightened in his hair.
"Then prove it."
The Final Goodbye
By the time the fight was over, the ground was littered with bodies.
Damien was injured, blood seeping from a wound in his side. But he was alive.
Helena held his face between her hands. "We can't keep running forever."
He cupped her cheek. "Then we disappear."
Together, they vanished into the night, leaving behind their pasts, their enemies, their old lives.
Because love-real, dangerous, all-consuming love-was worth any risk.
Even if it meant becoming ghosts.
Even if it meant leaving everything behind.
Because in the end, all that mattered was each other.