The rain had thinned to a fine mist, turning the streets slick and shining like glass.
Damien's car slid through traffic, the city lights blurring across the windows.
Diana kept stealing glances at him. He was leaning back in the seat, seemingly relaxed—but his hand stayed on the door handle, his gaze flicking to every passing vehicle.
"Paranoid much?" she asked.
He didn't look at her. "You live longer that way."
The light ahead turned red. They stopped. And that's when she noticed it—two motorcycles slipping between the lanes, one on each side of the car.
"Damien…" she started.
"I see them." His voice had gone flat, sharp-edged.
The first shatter came from her side—a pipe slamming into the window. Safety glass cracked but didn't fall. The second rider swung something toward Damien's side, and the driver swerved hard.
"Out," Damien ordered, already pulling her toward his door.
"What?!"
"Now, Diana!"
They spilled into the rain, Damien's arm locking around her waist as another bike roared past, the rider's hand reaching for her. Damien caught his wrist mid-swipe, twisted, and sent him crashing onto the slick asphalt.
The second rider turned back. Damien shoved her toward a recessed doorway. "Stay."
But she didn't. She grabbed the nearest thing she could—a broken umbrella from the trash bin—and stepped into the street just as the biker lunged for Damien again. She swung hard, the jagged metal catching the man across the arm. He howled, dropping his weapon.
Damien caught her by the back of the coat, hauling her in close, rain running down both their faces.
"Disobey me again," he growled, "and I'll—"
"Save it," she snapped, breathless. "You're welcome."
His eyes burned into hers—equal parts fury and something far more dangerous. Then the sound of tires screeching pulled his attention.
The attackers were gone.
---
They ducked into a service alley. Damien pulled a phone from his jacket, voice low and lethal as he barked orders for backup.
When he hung up, he looked at her. "That wasn't random. Someone knew where we'd be."
She swallowed. "Rhys?"
His expression hardened. "It doesn't matter who. What matters is now you don't leave my sight. Not even to breathe."
---
Half a mile away, Rhys tossed his binoculars onto the seat beside him, his jaw tight.
"She fought back," he muttered.
Cassie arched a brow. "You sound almost… impressed."
"I'm not," he said. But his gaze stayed on the empty street where Damien's car had been.
"She's not ready to leave him yet. But I can change that."