Chapter 2 THE STRANGER SHE SAVED

The Stranger She Saved

Ayla awoke to the scent of clean sheets and the dull hum of an air conditioner. Her eyes fluttered open. For a second, she panicked. This wasn't the bridge. She wasn't under the sky or curled beneath her cardboard walls. She was somewhere... warm. Too quiet.

She sat up with a start, wincing as pain shot through her side.

"You shouldn't move too fast." The voice was low and unfamiliar in the daylight. It was him. The man she'd saved. The man who now sat quietly in the armchair across the room.

He had changed clean clothes, a small bruise on his temple, and a sharper gaze than she remembered. Still handsome in a cold, mysterious kind of way. Dangerous, almost. The kind of man you didn't get too close to.

She stared at him, unsure what to say. "Why am I here?"

"I found you beaten and bleeding under the bridge," he said simply. "I had to get you somewhere safe."

She glanced around the modest motel room neutral walls, a cheap lamp, a single bed. "Safe? You brought me to a motel?"

"It's clean. Paid in cash. No questions asked." He rose slowly and handed her a bottle of water. "Don't worry, you're not a hostage."

"I didn't think I was," she lied.

"You look like you want to run."

"I always want to run."

Their eyes met.

He didn't smile. "Then run. I won't stop you. But you should know I paid for your hospital bill."

Ayla froze.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because you saved me. And now you're hurt because of it."

She looked away. "I didn't do it for anything in return."

"I know," he said softly. "That's why I'm here."

The silence stretched between them.

"You don't even know my name," she muttered.

"I don't need to."

"Well, I do," she snapped, suddenly defensive. "You're a stranger. You could be a criminal. For all I know, you could've gotten yourself shot doing something illegal."

His gaze didn't waver. "If I were dangerous, you wouldn't be alive right now."

She swallowed hard, realizing he was probably right.

He stood and walked toward the table, placing a small bag of painkillers and ointment beside a fast food tray. "Eat. Heal. Then you can leave, if you want."

"I'm not staying long."

"I didn't ask you to."

Later that night, Ayla sat by the window, her gaze on the parking lot below.

He hadn't left the room all day.

She hadn't either.

He stayed quiet most of the time, working on a laptop with silent intensity. There were moments when he looked up at her long stares, unreadable but he said nothing.

"Why were you under the bridge?" she finally asked.

He didn't look up.

"I was trying to disappear."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because someone tried to kill me. And they almost succeeded."

A shiver ran down her spine.

She wanted to ask more. But the weight in his voice stopped her.

"You were shot?"

He nodded once. "I was supposed to die. But you found me."

"Lucky you," she said bitterly.

He finally looked at her. "Was it luck? Or did I just end up in front of the only person in the world who still believes strangers are worth saving?"

She held his gaze, heart beating fast.

Flashback – Ten Days Earlier

Lorenzo Steele stood in the glass-walled boardroom of Steele Tech, power pulsing in every cell of his being. Billionaire. Innovator. The youngest tech mogul in the country. Untouchable.

Until that night.

A meeting with his security chief. A staged emergency call. A car rerouted to a "private" location.

Then silence.

Then pain.

Shots fired through the tinted windows. A crash. Blood. The sound of his body rolling down an embankment like garbage tossed into the night.

Then nothing.

"I was betrayed," he told Ayla in the present, his voice low and grave. "Someone close to me."

"Who?" she asked.

"I don't know yet. But I will."

"You should go to the police."

He laughed coldly. "I can't. Not until I know who I can trust. They think I'm dead and I want it that way. For now."

Ayla wrapped her arms around herself.

"You really are hiding."

He nodded. "And you... you're surviving."

They both looked at each other then two people broken in different ways.

She ate in silence, barely touching her food. He watched her from across the room.

"You said your father left you with debt," he said quietly.

She nodded, stiffening. "He gambled everything away. We lost our house. He ran. Left me to pay it back."

"That's why you're living under a bridge."

"And working five jobs," she added. "None of which pay enough."

His jaw clenched. "And the men who beat you?"

"Loan sharks. I've been avoiding them... but they caught up to me."

Lorenzo rose from his seat.

"Where are you going?" she asked warily.

"To make a call," he said. "I'll be right outside."

He stepped into the parking lot, phone pressed to his ear.

"This is Blackbird," he said to the voice that answered. "I'm alive. And I'm gathering names. Quietly."

The voice on the other end gasped. "Sir we thought

"Don't tell anyone. Not yet. Just trace the money that left the company before the attack. Start with my stepmother's accounts. And send me cash, untraceable. I have someone to take care of."

"Yes, sir."

He hung up and stared into the night sky.

This girl Ayla she had nothing. And yet she'd risked everything for a stranger. While his own blood had nearly killed him for money.

He couldn't walk away from her.

He wouldn't.

Back in the room, Ayla had fallen asleep curled on top of the sheets, her arm tucked under her head. Her bruised eye was fading to yellow. Her lips no longer bled. She looked small. Fragile. But also, somehow... strong.

He approached quietly, hesitated, then knelt beside the bed.

She stirred. "What are you doing?"

"Your stitches need cleaning."

"I can do it

"Let me."

His fingers were gentle as he dabbed antiseptic on her arm. She winced but didn't pull away.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" she whispered.

He paused. "Because no one ever was kind to me when I needed it."

She blinked. "But you look like someone who's had everything."

He looked at her then. Really looked. "Looks lie."

A long silence passed between them.

Then she said the words that would change everything.

"What's your name?"

He hesitated. Then gave her only half the truth.

"Loren."