Chapter 39

Ariel got to the location and looked around. To her left stood the bar, just as the person had said.

She drew her cap forward to hide her face and quickly crossed the street toward it.

Inside, the air was dim and heavy with cigarette smoke. Ariel raised her head, scanning the room before walking to the counter.

The message had said 10 a.m., and it was exactly that. Yet, no one looked like the person she was supposed to meet.

“Your order?” the bartender asked, drawing her attention.

“A glass of wine,” she replied without looking at him, her eyes fixed on the entrance, watching those coming and going.

“Two glasses of wine. I’ll pay for the young lady.”

A voice beside her made her turn. A man sat next to her, offering a small, knowing smile as he pushed one of the glasses toward her.

“Waiting for someone?” he asked.

Ariel ignored him. He sipped his wine slowly, then stepped directly into her line of sight.

“What are you doing?” she snapped.

“Don’t look,” he muttered under his breath.

But curiosity won. Ariel’s eyes flicked to the far corner of the bar, where a group of men sat, their gazes locked on her like predators sizing up prey.

“Come to me. Quietly. A distraction—anything.” His tone was calm, but urgent.

Ariel looked again and realized none of them were customers. They were slowly reaching for their weapons. Fear crawled up her spine.

She stumbled forward, falling against the man’s chest, pretending to be drunk.

“Take me to the room,” she whined, rubbing his chest clumsily, already shrugging off her jacket. Her eyes half-closed, her movements swaying.

“You can’t do that here, kitten,” he said, leaning close to whisper something into her ear.

Whatever he said made her gasp softly, her face flushing red.

She buried her face in his chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist and led her toward the exit. His movements were slow, casual, meant to avoid suspicion.

“Hey!” a deep voice thundered from behind.

The man froze, forcing a laugh.

“My girlfriend’s drunk. She can be really crazy sometimes.”

The men were standing now, grim-faced, surrounding them inch by inch.

“Give me the lady,” the one with the deep voice said coldly.

“I’m sorry,” the man replied, pulling Ariel closer. “She’s drunk.”

The man with the deep voice sneered and signaled his boys forward.

“You run on three,” the stranger whispered into Ariel’s ear.

One step closer. Two. Their boots scraped the floor.

“One… two… three!”

They bolted.

“After them!” the deep voice roared.

Bullets tore through the air as Ariel sprinted down the street, her heart hammering. The wind whipped behind her as she turned a corner, only to find herself ambushed again.

She reached for her gun but another shot rang out first.

The man from the bar was firing at the attackers.

He moved fast and precise, his bullets dropping two before his gun clicked empty.

“Damn it,” he hissed.

The remaining men charged at him. He looked at Ariel, eyes pleading for backup. But she smirked, then ran.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, ducking as a bullet whizzed past.

One of the men chased after her. Ariel ran harder, dodging a log he threw. Her boots hit the pavement, then she tripped over a metal can.

She pushed herself up fast, but he was already there. He grabbed her from behind, his arm locking around her throat.

Ariel struggled, twisting, stomping his foot. He only tightened his grip. She looked back and saw his face close, his grin vile as he stuck out his tongue, about to lick her cheek.

Rage snapped through her. She kicked him between the legs. He groaned and released her instantly.

But more men appeared, surrounding her in the narrow alley. She couldn’t go forward or back, the walls caged her in.

“Shit,” she breathed, sweat clinging to her face.

Then the roar of an engine echoed behind them. A motorcycle burst into view, speeding straight toward the men. They dove aside as the bike skidded to a stop.

Ariel’s eyes widened, the design looked familiar.

“Get on!” the rider shouted.

She didn’t think twice. She climbed on just as the others recovered and began running toward them.

“Hold on tight,” he said, his voice low near her ear.

He twisted the throttle, and the bike shot forward. Wind tore through her hair as they sped past the attackers, leaving them behind.

When he finally slowed, the world seemed to tilt back into silence.

He removed his helmet, and Ariel’s eyes widened. It was the same man from the bar.

She looked away, guilt prickling her chest.

“I almost died thanks to a certain somebody,” he said, smirking.

Ariel sneered. “Who were those guys?”

“Criminals,” he replied simply.

“Are you one of them?” she shot back.

He raised a brow. “I just saved you, and that’s your first question?”

Ariel pulled out her phone and showed him the message.

“Were you the one who sent this?”

He shook his head. “No. They were after you. You should be thankful I saved your arrogant ass.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t even know me.”

He grinned. “At least I know you’re a cop.”

Her brows furrowed in suspicion. “Then who are you, and what were you doing at that bar?”

“Saving your sorry ass, of course. You always get into trouble and make me come save you.”

Ariel blinked. “Have we met before?”

He leaned closer, his face inches from hers. “The picture. James cheating—remember that spiral of chaos?”

Her breath caught. “It was you. You sent that message. You told me James was cheating.”

He nodded. “And I also saved your sorry ass from Shahzad.”

Memories flooded her mind. It all fit now—the tone, the timing, the same sharp sarcasm.

“Why are you here?” she asked quietly. “And who are you, really?”

He looked straight into her eyes.

“My name is Michael. And I’m not your enemy, Ariel—so trust me.”