~Zade's Pov~

The alley stank of rotting garbage, piss, and something far worse—the scent of forgotten crimes, soaked into the very walls. 

It was the kind of place where even the rats didn't linger for too long. A place the city had abandoned, allowing shadows to take over. 

I had no business being here. 

Yet, here I was. 

I should’ve kept driving, let the night swallow whatever secrets lay in that darkness. I had a family gathering to get back to—a forced tradition of pretending to give a damn. But something made me stop. Something made me step out of my Jeep and walk toward that faint glimmer of light deep inside the alley. 

And then I heard it. 

A muffled sob. 

It was barely a whisper, the kind of sound that wouldn’t even register unless you were listening for it. 

But I heard it. 

I wasn’t the kind of man who played hero. I didn’t get involved in things that weren’t my problem. I wasn’t some savior. 

But my feet didn’t listen. 

I moved forward, each step slow, calculated. My instincts screamed at me—this isn’t your fight, walk away. But my gut churned with something dark, something bitter, something that told me I was about to see something I didn’t want to see. 

And I did. 

A man—older, with white hair and sunken cheeks—was hunched over a girl. 

A child.

My hands clenched into fists the moment I saw her—barely ten, maybe eleven, trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her hands were tied above her head, wrists red and raw. Her dress had been ripped, exposing too much of her tiny frame. She wasn’t screaming. 

She wasn’t even moving. 

Like she’d already accepted her fate. 

Until she saw me. 

Big, wide, tear-streaked eyes locked onto mine. And suddenly, there was something there. A flicker of something I couldn’t place. 

"Help me," she whispered. 

A plea. A broken, desperate plea. 

My entire body went cold. 

The next second, I moved. 

I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. My legs carried me forward, and before the bastard could even turn, I grabbed him by the collar and threw him off her. He landed with a sickening thud, cursing under his breath. 

The girl gasped, stumbling forward. Her hands were still bound, her tiny body swaying like she was about to collapse. I caught her before she hit the ground. 

She flinched at my touch. But when she realized I wasn’t him, she sagged against me, her breath coming in sharp, broken sobs. 

I ripped the rope from her wrists, my jaw tightening at the sight of the bruises there. 

The man groaned as he sat up, glaring at me. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, boy?" 

I ignored him. My attention was on the girl, on the way she was shaking violently. 

"Can you run?" I asked her, keeping my voice steady, calm. 

She just shook her head, tears spilling down her face. 

Fuck. 

I turned back just as the bastard lunged at me. I dodged, grabbing him by the collar and slamming my knee into his ribs. He let out a strangled grunt, stumbling back. 

But he wasn’t done. 

He swung, his fist connecting with my jaw. Pain exploded through my skull, but I barely felt it. 

I grabbed him by the throat, slamming him against the brick wall. "You like hurting little girls?" I hissed, my fingers tightening. "Let's see how you like it." 

I punched him. 

Hard. 

The sound of his nose breaking beneath my knuckles was sickeningly satisfying. 

He groaned, spitting blood, but I wasn’t done. 

I hit him again. And again. 

By the time I stepped back, he was coughing, barely able to hold himself up. 

I turned to grab the girl’s hand—but the sharp click of a gun cocking stopped me cold. 

"I’ll kill you first," the bastard growled, "and then I’ll fuck that little whore." 

The girl whimpered, clutching the back of my shirt. 

I barely had time to react before he pulled the trigger. 

I dodged. But not fast enough. 

Pain ripped through my arm as the bullet grazed me, hot blood trickling down my skin. 

"Bl..blood," the girl whispered, her voice barely audible over the ringing in my ears. 

I clenched my jaw, ignoring the pain. 

And then—sirens.

The bastard hesitated. 

I could see it in his eyes—the moment he realized his time was up. 

He threw the gun and ran, disappearing into the shadows. 

I wanted to chase him. Wanted to make sure he never had the chance to do this to anyone else. 

But the small body trembling behind me mattered more. 

I turned to her, crouching down so we were at eye level. 

She was still crying, her tiny fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt as if she was afraid I’d disappear too. 

I should’ve left. Should’ve let the cops handle it. 

But I didn’t trust them. 

Not with her. 

I gently placed my hands on her thin shoulders. "You're safe now, pretty girl," I murmured. 

She didn’t respond. Just kept crying. 

I let out a breath, then did the only thing I could think of—I picked her up. 

She stiffened at first, but the moment I cradled her against my chest, she curled into me, burying her face in my neck. 

She smelled like fear. Like something that had been shattered. 

I carried her to my Jeep, setting her down on the hood. She looked so small sitting there, drowning in the oversized jacket I draped over her shoulders. 

Her lips trembled, her hands gripping the fabric like it was the only thing holding her together. 

"What's your name, pretty girl?" I asked softly. 

She didn’t answer. 

Didn’t even look at me. 

She just kept crying. 

I let out a slow breath, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Do you have parents?" 

She flinched. 

That told me enough. 

I glanced at my phone missed calls from my mother. They could wait. 

She needed help first. 

Her knees were scraped, her tiny hands covered in bruises. There were marks on her arms, some new, some old. 

My stomach twisted. 

How much had this girl suffered before tonight? 

I couldn’t just leave her here. 

I lifted her again, gently setting her inside the Jeep. She didn’t let go of my jacket, her small fingers curling into the fabric. 

Her body was too fragile. Too cold. 

She was too damn pretty to be ruined like this. 

I exhaled sharply, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary as I drove toward the hospital. 

She didn’t speak the entire way. 

Didn’t look at me. 

Just kept holding on. 

When we arrived, I carried her inside, letting the doctors take her. I watched from a distance as they checked her injuries, whispering in hushed voices. 

And then—her parents arrived. 

A woman burst through the doors, her face streaked with tears, her voice shaking as she called the girl’s name. 

The moment she saw them, something in her broke. 

She ran to her mother, burying herself in her embrace. 

They thanked me. Over and over. 

And then she was gone. 

Just like that. 

I told myself she’d be okay. 

That she’d heal. 

That she’d forget about that night. 

That I’

d never see her again. 

I had no idea that nine years later, she’d walk back into my life.

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a/n

Who do you think is this girl? Can she be Lilia? Or maybe her sister or smthng? Who knows?