Chapter 1 - The Wrong Number That Saved My Life
A woman crawled across the floor, whispering: "Please... somebody answer me." When mafia boss Adrian Voss received a strange emergency text, he discovered a broken phone case beside the message notification. But one word was scratched inside the case: "Mara." Adrian realized this wasn't a random message.
The first thing I remembered was the taste of blood.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Blood.
It was warm against my lips, metallic and impossible to ignore as I lay on the cold apartment floor, staring at the cracked ceiling above me.
My fingers barely moved.
Every breath felt like my ribs were fighting against me.
I tried to sit up.
I failed.
The room spun, and the red glow from the liquor store sign outside my window flashed through the broken blinds.
Red.
Then darkness.
Then red again.
My phone was three feet away.
It had fallen when I dropped.
Three feet had never felt so far.
I reached for it anyway.
My fingertips dragged across the wooden floor.
One inch.
Two.
Five.
My vision blurred.
I thought about screaming.
But nobody would come.
Nobody had come before.
My neighbor had heard everything.
The shouting.
The crashing.
The threats.
But the walls in my building were thick, and people had learned a long time ago that some doors were safer left closed.
My hand finally touched the phone.
I grabbed it.
The screen lit up.
Twenty-seven missed calls.
Not from friends.
Not from family.
From him.
I stared at the name.
Ethan.
My stomach tightened.
Even seeing his name made my body react.
Fear had a memory.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
I didn't call the police.
I didn't call my sister.
I didn't call anyone who knew me.
Because Ethan had made sure I understood something.
He knew where everyone I loved lived.
He knew where they worked.
He knew how to make people disappear from my life without ever touching them.
So I opened my messages.
I didn't even know what I was typing.
My hands were shaking too badly.
I only wrote what my mind could process.
Three words.
Help me please.
Then my fingers slipped.
The message sent.
I stared at the screen.
The number wasn't saved.
It wasn't Ethan.
It wasn't anyone I knew.
I had sent my final desperate message to a stranger.
I closed my eyes.
Maybe that was better.
Maybe a stranger wouldn't be dragged into this.
Maybe nobody would answer.
Then the phone vibrated.
Once.
My eyes opened.
A reply.
Unknown number.
Who hurt you?
I froze.
I didn't know why.
Maybe because the message didn't say "Are you okay?"
Maybe because it didn't ask if this was a joke.
It asked who.
Like the person on the other side already believed me.
My fingers moved slowly.
Wrong number. Sorry.
I stared at the screen.
A few seconds passed.
Then another message appeared.
You are bleeding.
My heart stopped.
I looked around the room.
Nobody was there.
The apartment door was locked.
The windows were shut.
I typed with trembling hands.
How do you know that?
The answer came immediately.
Because you didn't answer my question.
I swallowed.
My phone slipped slightly in my hand.
Who was this person?
How could they know?
Then another message appeared.
Send me your location.
I should have ignored it.
Every instinct told me to.
A stranger asking for my location was dangerous.
But I was already on the floor.
Already hurt.
Already alone.
And somehow, the person behind that screen sounded less dangerous than the man who had just left my apartment.
My fingers moved before my brain could stop them.
I sent my address.
The moment I did, regret filled me.
I waited.
One minute.
Two.
Five.
Then the reply came.
Stay awake. I'm coming.
I laughed quietly.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was impossible.
Nobody was coming.
People said that all the time.
"I'm coming."
"I'm here for you."
"Everything will be okay."
Those words meant nothing.
Until I heard footsteps outside my door.
I stopped breathing.
The hallway was silent.
Then a knock.
Not a normal knock.
A controlled one.
Three slow taps.
My body immediately tightened.
Ethan.
No.
No, no, no.
I tried to move backward.
Pain exploded through my side.
I covered my mouth to stop myself from making a sound.
The lock turned.
My blood ran cold.
I hadn't given anyone a key.
The door opened.
But it wasn't Ethan.
A tall man stood there.
Black suit.
Dark hair.
Cold eyes.
Behind him were two other men dressed exactly the same.
They looked like they belonged in a different world.
A world where nobody told them no.
The man stepped inside.
His eyes scanned the apartment.
The broken chair.
The shattered glass.
The blood on the floor.
Then he looked at me.
For the first time that night, his expression changed.
Not surprise.
Not disgust.
Anger.
Controlled anger.
"You sent the message," he said.
I couldn't answer.
He walked toward me slowly.
I should have been afraid.
But somehow, I wasn't.
Not anymore.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
The man looked down at the phone still in my hand.
Then he looked back at me.
"Adrian Voss."
The name meant nothing to me.
But the two men behind him reacted.
They exchanged a glance.
Like everyone else knew something I didn't.
Adrian crouched down.
Carefully.
Like he was approaching someone injured, not someone dangerous.
"Can you stand?"
I shook my head.
His jaw tightened.
"Who did this?"
I looked away.
I couldn't say Ethan's name.
Not yet.
Because saying it made everything real.
Adrian noticed.
And somehow, that scared me more.
Because he understood my silence.
He didn't ask again.
Instead, he removed his jacket and placed it over my shoulders.
"You made one mistake tonight," he said quietly.
My eyes lifted to his.
"What mistake?"
His expression turned colder.
"You thought you were texting a stranger."
The room became silent.
I didn't understand.
Then one of the men behind him picked up my phone case from the floor.
He turned it over.
His face changed.
"Boss."
Adrian looked at him.
The man handed him the broken phone case.
Adrian examined the inside.
A tiny mark had been carved into the plastic.
A symbol.
One I had never noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
"Mara."
I froze.
Nobody had called me by my name yet.
Nobody should have known it.
"How do you know my name?"
Adrian didn't answer.
He looked at the symbol again.
And for the first time, the powerful man standing in my apartment looked genuinely disturbed.
"This isn't about your boyfriend."
My breathing stopped.
"What?"
Adrian stood slowly.
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
The call was from someone saved under one word.
Father.
He answered.
He listened.
Then his eyes moved back to me.
The color disappeared from his face.
"What did you say?"
A long silence followed.
Then Adrian lowered the phone.
The calm expression returned.
But something underneath it was gone.
"Get her out of here."
The bodyguards moved immediately.
I grabbed Adrian's sleeve.
"Why?"
He looked at me.
And for the first time, I saw something I never expected from a man like him.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
"Mara..."
He stopped.
His phone vibrated again.
A new message appeared.
Adrian looked down.
And the moment he read it, he went completely still.
May you like
Because the message came from the one person who should never have known I was alive...
"She reached the wrong man. Bring her back before midnight."
