31
The city slept—or pretended to.
I didn't.
I replayed the scene over and over. Mara's eyes. The way her hand had tightened around mine before they pushed her into the car. The whispered words: He waits.
I wasn't trained. I had no contacts. No authority. No army of my own. But I had fire. And desperation. And the kind of love that makes you break rules you swore you'd never touch.
I made a list. Names. Numbers. Locations. Anything that could lead to her.
I swore silently: I'll pay whatever price. Even if it's my own life.
32
Three days later, I found the first clue.
A driver. Nervous. Frantic. Not dangerous, but cornered.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, voice quivering.
I slammed a hand on the table in the back room of a quiet café. "The woman. Mara Vale. Or Alina Morayo. Where is she?"
He swallowed. "You… you don't know who you're dealing with."
"I know enough."
He finally gave in. Not willingly. But survival can be louder than loyalty.
"She's… in the old industrial district. Warehouse 17. Third floor. Gray vans. Heavy security."
I memorized every detail. And I swore I wouldn't leave until I saw her again.
33
The next night, I went there.
I should have waited.
I should have planned.
I should have called her name one more time.
But love makes you reckless. It blinds you. It sharpens every nerve while dulling reason.
I slipped into the shadows. The warehouse loomed. Gray, cold, and silent except for muffled voices inside.
A window. Broken, jagged. I climbed.
Inside, the scent of iron and fear hit me.
And there she was.
Mara. Bound, but alive. Not crying. Not begging. Just glaring.
And when our eyes met, I realized: she hated me for being here.
"You shouldn't have come," she whispered.
"I couldn't not," I said.
Her eyes burned with something darker than fear: anger, disappointment, something dangerous.
"You'll get us killed," she said.
"I don't care."
34
They noticed me almost immediately.
Two guards, trained and cold, aimed weapons before I could fully react.
I wasn't trained. I wasn't prepared.
But I was furious.
I rushed. Swinging, hitting, anything to keep them off her.
Shots rang.
I dove behind a crate.
Mara kicked a man across the room without hesitation, her strength astonishing.
"I told you love was dangerous," she said.
I growled, ducking another attack.
"Yes. But it's worse than that," I said. "Because I love you."
35
We fought side by side, instinct overtaking reason.
It was chaotic. Brutal. Beautiful. Horrifying.
One guard, younger, panicked, aimed his weapon at Mara.
I didn't hesitate. I charged.
The shot rang.
The man fell.
Not Mara. Not me. Him.
I froze. My chest heaving.
Mara looked at me with wide, sharp eyes.
"You…" she started.
"I didn't have a choice," I said.
Her face twisted. She should have been relieved. Instead, she looked horrified.
"You killed him," she said, voice breaking.
"I saved you!"
"You—" she stopped. Tears glimmering. "This is what I warned you about."
36
We escaped the warehouse, but it was no victory.
We ran through backstreets, silent except for our ragged breaths.
Mara stopped abruptly in a dark alley.
"You realize now?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "I'd die for you."
She shook her head. "No. You already crossed the line. You're no longer you."
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
We ducked into a shadowed doorway. Safe—for now—but nothing about this night would ever be the same.
37
The first loss was never meant to be mine.
And yet, it was.
Mara looked at me, eyes filled with a mixture of fear and frustration.
"You're reckless," she said.
"I know," I admitted.
"You've entered my world now," she whispered. "And there's no going back."
Her hand brushed mine, briefly, like a warning.
I didn't care.
I would follow her into hell if that was what it took.
Because loving her… was no longer dangerous.
It was lethal.
38
That night, lying in an abandoned safehouse, I realized something terrifying.
I had crossed a line.
The first death.
The first betrayal of morality.
The first irrevocable choice.
And there would be more.
Every action from this point forward would either save her—or destroy us both.
Mara slept beside me, silent but aware. Every breath she took reminded me that she was alive. And that she might not be for long.
And that loving her had already become the most dangerous thing I'd ever done