Chapter 6

Night had fallen, bringing a torrential downpour. Inside her cramped basement apartment, Carissa aggressively shoved her few items of clothing into a faded canvas duffel bag.

Suddenly, violent pounding shook her thin wooden door. Men were shouting outside, hurling vile curses. Isiah had sent his street thugs to collect his "hush money."

Carissa threw her body weight against the door, holding it shut. She reached over to the kitchenette counter and grabbed a rusted butcher knife. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt her ribs.

Outside, the thugs started smashing her potted plants and kicking the metal trash cans. The noise was deafening.

She knew the door wouldn't hold. She slung the duffel bag over her shoulder, took a deep breath, and ripped the door open.

She let out a feral scream, lunging forward with the knife raised high.

The thugs, startled by her psychotic energy, stumbled backward. Carissa sprinted through the gap between them, bursting out into the pouring rain.

"Get that bitch!" one of them yelled.

Carissa ran down the flooded street, the heavy rain blinding her. Her lungs burned with every breath.

As she rounded a dark corner, a massive, foul-smelling drunk stepped out of an alley. He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising her skin instantly.

He laughed, a wet, disgusting sound, and tried to drag her into the shadows. The thugs were closing in from behind.

Carissa thrashed wildly. She slammed the heavy handle of the knife into the drunk's skull. He grunted and backhanded her across the face.

The force sent Carissa flying. She crashed into a deep puddle of muddy water, scraping her palms raw on the asphalt.

The drunk lunged for her.

Suddenly, twin beams of blinding LED headlights tore through the rain.

A black, armored Maybach slammed on its brakes, sending a wave of dirty water crashing over the drunk's legs.

The car door was kicked open. Guilford stepped out into the storm. He wore a black trench coat, his face a mask of pure, murderous rage.

Before the drunk could turn around, Guilford's bodyguard materialized and kicked the man squarely in the chest. The drunk flew backward, hitting the brick wall with a sickening crunch, and slumped to the ground, unconscious.

The thugs chasing Carissa skidded to a halt. Seeing the armored car and the men in suits, they turned and ran for their lives.

Guilford walked over to where Carissa was sitting in the mud. He looked down at her, his jaw locked tight.

He didn't offer his hand. Instead, he shrugged off his custom trench coat and threw it roughly over her head.

The heavy fabric engulfed her. It was warm, radiating his body heat, and smelled strongly of cedar and expensive cologne. Carissa's lips were blue and trembling. She looked up at him, stunned.

"Get in the car," Guilford ordered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Don't ruin my leather seats."

Carissa gritted her teeth. She didn't say thank you. She pulled the coat tight around her shivering body and limped into the back of the Maybach.

Guilford got in beside her. He ordered the driver to head to Long Island, then told his guard through the window to "make sure those men learn a permanent lesson."

The cabin was dead silent, save for the rain drumming on the roof. Water dripped from Carissa's hair onto the plush floor mats.

Guilford opened the mini-fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and slammed it into the cup holder in front of her.

Carissa hesitated, then grabbed the bottle and drank greedily. The cold water soothed her burning throat.

Guilford stared at the red handprint swelling on her cheek. "You rejected my money for those pieces of trash?" he mocked.

Carissa turned her head, staring out the window. "I don't have a family anymore," she said, her voice hoarse but absolute. "I only have my son."

Guilford's heart did a strange, uncomfortable stutter. He looked at her thin, rigid posture wrapped in his coat, and for the first time, he didn't have a cruel retort.

An hour later, the Maybach pulled up to the illuminated estate. Alistair was waiting with a black umbrella.

Guilford stepped out first. "Put her in a guest room," he told the butler, and walked into the house without looking back.