Rain stung my face as I ducked under the awning, heart still racing from the near-miss with the taxi. That’s when I saw him—standing across the street like he owned the night itself. Tall, dark overcoat, eyes locked onto mine like I’d committed a crime just by existing. No umbrella. Just watching. \n\nThen he stepped forward. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Like gravity pulled him toward me. \n\n‘You’re late,’ he said, as if we’d made plans. \n\n‘I don’t know you,’ I shot back, clutching my bag like a shield. \n\nHe smiled—just slightly, dangerously. ‘You will.’ \n\nA black SUV slid up behind him. Two men in suits emerged, scanning the street like predators. One whispered in his ear. Something about a threat. About me. \n\nMatthew didn’t flinch. ‘She comes with us,’ he said. \n\nMy pulse spiked. This wasn’t a meeting. It was a seizure. And somehow, I wasn’t sure if I was the target—or the prize.