UNKNOWN POV
The first ring had barely begun when Adrian Montgomery lifted the phone to his ear.
He didn't rush.
He didn't panic.
He simply answered.
A man like him didn't need to raise his voice to inspire fear.
"What is it?"
Cold. Deep. Terrifying in its restraint.
The other end of the line crackled as if the caller swallowed his own breath before speaking.
"B-Boss… it's Mark. I—I spotted the young miss."
For a second, Adrian's expression did not change.
Not outwardly.
But something beneath his ribs tightened, sharp and possessive.
Crystal.
He waited in complete silence, letting the weight of his stillness tell Mark to continue.
"She—uh—she walked into a bar… sir. Alone."
A full second.
Two.
Three.
Then, a simple command.
"Location."
Mark didn't dare hesitate. A notification popped on Adrian's screen almost immediately.
A bar.
Oakridge Street.
Adrian ended the call without a goodbye.
He didn't need one.
---
Oakridge Street was a chaos of lights, loud music, drunken laughter, and shadows thick with bad decisions. The kind of place he'd never allow Crystal to walk through if he had a say in the matter.
And someday, he told himself, he would.
The bar's neon sign flickered weakly—
The Pit
—how fitting.
Adrian stepped inside, and instantly the noise dulled.
Not because the bar became quieter.
But because his focus narrowed to one thing.
Her.
Crystal sat a few tables away, alone, bathed under dim amber lighting that brushed through her hair and turned it into liquid gold. She tilted her drink with an awkward, adorable concentration, her tiny frown deepening whenever she spilled a drop.
Something in his chest twisted.
Why are you here, little angel?
He chose a corner hidden by shadows, letting his height disappear into darkness. Pulled out a cigarette. Lit it. The flame briefly illuminated the sharp edge of his jaw, the controlled tension in his face.
He inhaled, exhaled slowly… eyes locked on her.
Crystal's innocence and recklessness in one body.
His weakness… and one day, his downfall, if he wasn't careful.
She lifted her glass again.
The fourth shot.
He bit back a curse.
This girl has never touched alcohol in her life.
And yet here she was—tilting her head back like she was trying to drown something deeper than her own throat.
She blinked slowly, like the world had tilted half a degree.
Her lips parted in a tiny, confused pout.
Adrian felt something dangerous coil inside him.
He hated seeing her like this.
Vulnerable.
Breathlessly unaware of the gazes crawling over her from the bar.
Men watched her.
Young, old, sober, drunk—
All of them thieves with wandering eyes.
And she didn't notice a single one.
Crystal reached into her bag, pulled out her phone with unfocused fingers, and made a call.
His jaw tightened.
Who are you calling, angel?
If that name was either Liam or Ethan, he would—
He paused.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
He would not kill anyone.
Tonight.
But those boys would learn not to covet something that didn't belong to them.
Not Crystal.
Never Crystal.
She ended the call, steadied herself with both hands on the table, and stood.
Well—tried to.
Her knee buckled, and she dropped back into the chair with a soft thud.
Adrian's fingers twitched.
She tried again, grabbing her bag, determination written in every wobbly movement.
Damn stubborn girl.
---
As she approached the bar entrance, Adrian saw it—
A man.
Mid-twenties.
Drunk.
Unshaven.
Predatory swagger.
He moved toward her with the grin of someone who thought "no" only meant "try harder."
Crystal barely looked at him.
"No, thank you," she said calmly.
Polite.
Soft.
Still angelic even with alcohol in her veins.
But the stranger didn't appreciate manners.
He grabbed her arm—rough, invasive, arrogant.
Crystal didn't flinch.
Instead, she turned…
raised her left hand…
and slapped him.
Hard.
The crack echoed.
Adrian's lips parted slightly in surprise, then curved into a slow, dark smile he rarely showed anyone.
That's my girl.
But the stranger's expression twisted, uglier now, filled with the kind of fury weak men feel when a woman bruises their ego.
He lifted his hand—
And Adrian moved.
Fast.
Silent.
Deadly.
He caught the man's wrist mid-air, grip iron-tight.
The stranger froze, eyes widening at the sudden force crushing his movement.
Before he could speak—
BAM.
One punch.
The man dropped.
Unconscious.
Crystal blinked at the fallen body, then slowly looked up at Adrian.
Confusion.
Recognition.
Faint curiosity.
Like her mind whispered, I've seen him before, but the memory eluded her.
The nerve of her to forget me, Adrian thought.
Her bag lay on the ground.
She bent to pick it up—and turned to walk away.
That was all she planned to do.
Three steps.
Adrian caught her arm and pulled her back—not harshly, but firmly enough to make her stop.
She turned, eyes blazing with intoxicated irritation.
"What is your problem?" she snapped.
"What do you want from me?"
Her voice sliced through the air.
Sharp.
Annoyed.
Unimpressed by his presence.
Interesting.
"You're drunk," Adrian said quietly, voice dropping into that deep, dangerously calm tone only reserved for her.
"I only offered to take you home."
Crystal scoffed so loudly he almost laughed.
"You think I'll follow you just because you asked? Am I a fool?"
She yanked her arm out of his grasp.
"I can manage myself. Stay out of my way."
Then she walked off—leaving him standing there, chest tight with an emotion he refused to name.
He let her go.
Watched her.
Studied her.
Her back was tense.
Her steps unsteady.
But her spirit?
Untamed.
What a fierce little girl.
He stepped outside after her, just in time to see headlights cutting through the street. A car rolled to a stop in front of her.
The window slid down.
Maya.
Crystal's friend.
And Adrian felt something inside him ease.
Just a little.
So Maya was the one she called.
Not Liam.
Not Ethan.
Good.
Very good.
Crystal entered the car, her head tilting lazily onto the headrest as the door shut.
Adrian watched the car pull away, the taillights dimming into the night.
Then he exhaled slowly.
A long, dark, satisfied sound.
"Smart girl," he murmured aloud.
"You didn't call either of those boys."
His lips curved into a deeper, more dangerous smile.
"I like that."
He flicked the dying cigarette into the gutter, the ember glowing like a tiny warning flame.
Yes.
Let Crystal enjoy her little moments of independence.
Let her believe she walked through the night unreachable.
Untouchable.
Because Adrian Montgomery knew one thing with chilling certainty—
He would always find her.
Wherever she went.
Whomever she angered.
Whomever she tempted.
He would watch.
Wait.
Stay in the shadows—
Until it was time.
And Crystal…
his little angel…
Would eventually come straight into his hands.
Whether she realized it or not.