Emily paused in the fabric district, where the mall felt calm and quiet late at night. Soft rustles from silk fabric rolls stood out under the pale purple lights. Nearby mannequins stood still, their dresses' colours ranged from deep blue to bright red in smooth loops.
She stepped up to a row of evening dresses—slim black ones made with fine threads that promised gentle colour changes. Her eyes, sharp from old daydreams as a barista and her sudden new life here, caught the problems fast.
"These dresses need a more detailed make over."
The seams ran straight, making the fabric look stiff and flat. A simple slant cut on the bias—at a 45-degree angle—would change everything. The dress would flow soft like evening water over the body, hugging the waist tight then opening wide at the hips.
It was an easy fix with big rewards—fluid stretch that followed every curve, perfect drape without pulling, and ease for all body types. She pictured it clear in her mind, fingers itching for paper to sketch. There was no need for alterations, just natural grace and movement from day to night.
"I hate Lily," she whispered, anger tight in her chest as she pulled back from the rack. "Just like those fake heroines in cheap novels—sweet doe eyes that hide sharp claws. And how did she stand so firm when I crashed into her? She should have hit the ground as soon as I collided into her!"
Emily was the 'alpha,' built strong to lead. Lily was the 'omega,' soft by nature. She should have stumbled easy. But Lily towered taller, legs steady as stone, taking the hit without a waver.
Was it real power or story luck? It ate at her. No chance for peace now—that cold brush-off had scorched any bridge between them. "I really hate that woman!"
She shook her head hard, black hair snapping under her hood, and tapped a quick note into her phone—"Bias cut for T-shirt line. Flow beats fit." Done. Time to go.
"Do I really go back to that house of creeps?" she muttered, sneakers—switched from heels for soft steps—tapping the marble floor toward the exit. "Fake parents who can't stand me—Viktor's blacklist shuts every door, and Elena's ice stares. Alexei's close sniffs like a hunter. No thanks. Hotel tonight—plan my own path up."
Then footsteps sounded behind her—light at first, but steady and clear. Then, they grew into a group tread, making Emily's heart race in fear. It was not just mall echoes. Her heart raced as countless thoughts entered her mind?
Obsessed fans?
Lily's crew out for payback?
Reporters chasing dirt?
"No, reporters would never follow me at this time."
She kept her eyes ahead, walking faster past dark luxury shops. Neon lights split into jagged pieces in the windows, like broken warnings. The steps kept pace, speeding up—three or four now, shoes scraping with intent.
Fear twisted deep inside, her instincts yelling her to run. Her heart pounded like a wild thing caged in her ribs. She broke into a full sprint down the wide, empty hall. Sneakers pounded smooth marble, breath burned hot through her mask, bag smacked her hip with every stride.
"Why would someone... or a group follow me?" Emily hissed.
Store signs smeared into shadows—dresses fading to nothing—as she swerved around a fountain's soft glow, water chuckling calm and cruel. Steps crashed louder behind, rough voices growling curses, closing on her shorter legs.
She took a quick left into a back hallway—tight space, yellow lights buzzing sharp like angry insects overhead. The walls squeezed in past stacked boxes and cleaning carts. Taking a sharp right to frosted glass doors, night chill leaking through—she shoved them open.
The parking lot stretched wide under yellow lamps, her black car alone in dim corners. Wet pavement shone slick from rain, far city hum lost in her thumping pulse.
They burst out after—four hooded figures, one waving metal that caught the light. Panic gripped her throat tight. Fingers shook as she yanked keys from her bag—dropped them, sharp clink into a rusty drain grate by the car.
"No—damn it, no!" Emily yelled. She went down on knees, nails raked wet iron, arm plunged deep but short. Keys winked four inches below, out of reach.
Voices shouted close—"There—grab her now!"
"We are paid a lot of money to kidnap her!" one hooded man growled, his voice rough and greedy, slicing through the heavy rain like a jagged blade. "Let's get her!"
Emily had no time to lose. She sprang up from the rusty drain grate, keys glinting mockingly below, and abandoned her car without a glance back. Her legs ignited in fire as she sprinted across the vast parking lot, wet pavement blurring beneath her sneakers in a frantic haze.
Puddles erupted in icy sprays up her jeans with every pounding step, the cold-water seeping through denim to chill her skin raw. Her lungs screamed for air, each ragged breath a burning stab in her chest, but fear drove her forward like a whip.
Garage pillars loomed past like silent stone sentinels under the harsh yellow sodium lamps, their long shadows stretching across the asphalt like claws eager to snag her.
Rain hammered down harder now, drumming relentless on her hood, turning the road into a treacherous mirror that reflected the chaotic neon blaze of distant skyscrapers—pulsing blues, fiery pinks, electric greens mocking her flight. Her heart thundered wild in her ribs, a primal drumbeat screaming survive.
"I have to get out of here!" She cursed herself bitterly for choosing this isolated spot—tucked far from main exits and security lights, hidden behind rumbling service ramps with no cameras watching.
A stupid, fatal mistake in this unforgiving world.
She swerved sharply left, leaping a low concrete barrier slick with rain, her sneakers skidding dangerously on scattered wet gravel. Heavy footsteps thundered behind—four sets, relentless and closing, boots splashing through puddles with predatory rhythm.
A chain-link fence reared up ahead, its barbed wire crown glinting wickedly in the lamplight, raindrops beading like jewels on the razor points. There was no time for caution. She launched herself at it, fingers curling tight around the freezing metal links, feet scrabbling for footholds as the fence rattled violently under her weight.
Her jeans tore wider with a sharp rip, skin scraping raw and bloody on her calf from the barbs' graze. She hauled over the top, muscles straining, and crashed down hard on the other side—knees jarring bone-deep into damp gravel—but she exploded upright into a desperate sprint down a narrow neon-drenched alley.
Taxis ghosted by on the main street beyond, their horns blaring faint, urgent warnings swallowed by the downpour. She wove deeper into the choking shadows, breath sawing harsh in her throat, pulse roaring like thunder in her ears, every sense screaming they're too close.
Another hairpin turn—cramped space reeking of overflowing trash bins and stale alley rot—then strong arms yanked her sideways into a pitch-black alcove between sagging dumpsters.
A hand clamped vice-tight over her mouth, smothering her scream into a desperate, muffled moan that vibrated against damp palm. She thrashed like a wildcat, elbows jabbing backward, heels stomping down hard on her captor's instep with all her fury.
Panic exploded hot through her veins—flashes of hooded knives flashing silver, ransom videos in dim basements, murders, and all kinds of bad stuffs. But the grip held unyielding as iron, a solid body pinning her back against the slick, graffiti-scarred brick wall, cold rain trickling down her neck. Warm breath ghosted her ear, the voice low, edged with familiarity.
"Stop squirming, Ms. Emily."
"Mphmm!"
Emily froze rigid. Her eyes bulged wide in the faint neon spill, fear twisting into raw shock. It was Lily. Those doe-brown eyes bored down into hers, framed by a wild halo of orange curls plastered damp from the storm, her taller frame caging Emily effortlessly against the wall.
Up close in the dim alcove glow, Emily caught the golden flecks sparking in those soft eyes, the faint silvery scar tracing her jaw from some long-buried tabloid scandal.
But why? Dread clawed deeper—had Lily orchestrated this nightmare? Were those thugs her paid muscle for OG Emily's deranged pursuits? Did she want to hurt her?
Emily choked out another muffled moan, bucking harder, but Lily's hold tightened mercilessly—one arm banding her waist like a steel cable, the other sealing her lips firm.
"Calm down, Emily... Ms. Emily... whatever fits. Why do you stir up so much chaos?" Lily's voice blended sharp annoyance with an undercurrent of reluctant concern, her gaze flicking to Emily's exposed nape where the hood had slipped free, eyes shadowing darker for a beat, lips compressing into a thin line.
Footsteps crashed nearer—gruff grunts and curses ricocheting off the alley walls like bullets— "Where'd the bitch vanish to?"
"Fan out—check every damn bin!"
"We have to find her!"
Emily's mind spun at warp speed, heart jackhammering against her ribs. Lily knew those men hunted her specifically. Was it a genuine rescue? Or clever bait?
But the body heat pressed real and steady through their soaked clothes, no icy artifice of a scheme. Emily forced her limbs slack, going limp in Lily's arms like a tamed creature despite the blaze of defiance in her gut. No fight worth dying for—not with hooded men paces away.
Lily's breath caught soft in surprise, her grip easing a fraction, surprise flickering in her eyes. She whispered something to herself as her eyes remained fixated on Emily's nape.
Voices bellowed close— "This way, quick!"—then veered off, boots pounding the wrong fork of the alley into fading echoes.
Rain lashed harder on the dumpster lids overhead, a perfect veil muffling their gasps. Lily counted three silent heartbeats, tension coiled in her frame, before peeling her hand free from Emily's mouth.
Emily gulped huge amount of rainy air, chest heaving like bellows, fury bubbling to unleash—demands, accusations, a torrent ready to spill. But Lily's fingers snagged her wrist instead, hauling her into urgent motion.
"We have to move. Now—before they circle back."
"Hey! Hold on—did you send those bastards?!" Emily staggered after, sneakers sloshing through ankle-deep puddles, her arm throbbing twisted in Lily's unyielding grip. "Is this revenge?!"
The alley constricted narrower, brick walls glistening wet under neon bleed, overflowing bins belching stench of rot and discarded synth-meals.
"I saved you," Lily snapped over her shoulder, voice clipped taut, her long legs devouring distance Emily's shorter ones scrambled to match. "So, be grateful."
"Really?" Emily gasped, scepticism thick as the mist, Lily's trench flapping like raven wings, orange curls a vivid beacon in the glow.
A rescue from this woman—the ice queen who'd branded her stalker? Emily's thoughts whirled chaotic—Lily's height turning their escape into a gruelling jog, calves screaming fire.
Lily offered no reply, yanking harder around a blind corner into a service road cluttered with hulking parked delivery vans, their windshields sheeting rain. Emily's free hand chafed her reddened wrist, pulsing sore.
"I'm exhausted! Slow the hell down—my arm's killing me!"
Lily whipped an annoyed glare back, doe eyes narrowing beneath sodden lashes. "Exhausted? You just outran a kidnap crew." But she eased her pace fractionally, vigilant eyes sweeping every shadow like a trained professional.
Emily sagged forward in shaky relief, gulping air, legs trembling rubber from the adrenaline ebb. Rain softened to clinging mist; streetlamps pooled warm orange on fissured pavement, steam rising faint from grates.
"But I am really tired!"
Abruptly, Lily halted stock-still, bent in one fluid motion, and scooped Emily up bridal-style—effortless as lifting a feather.
One arm hooked under her knees, the other cradling her back, Lily's taller build making the feat child's play despite her omega frame's surprising steel. Emily yelped indignantly, limbs flailing in protest. "Put me down! What the hell—hey!"
"Quiet," Lily hissed through clenched teeth, already striding swift toward a blacked-out SUV idling ominous at the road's terminus, exhaust curling ghostly in the damp air. "Your voice is loud. They'll zero in."
Emily's outraged squawks trailed off mid-breath as Lily's body heat seeping through damp layers like a lifeline. Up this intimate close, Lily's beauty assaulted afresh—full lips parted on measured breaths, porcelain skin mist-kissed to luminous glow, curves yielding yet toned beneath the clinging coat.
Emily's cheeks flamed hot—mortification warring with something unnamed? No—focus. Kidnappers. Survival. Besides, she was more beautiful than Lily.
"How exactly did you 'save' me?" Emily demanded in a lowered hiss, craning to glower upward. Lily's jaw set granite-hard, gaze locked forward, stonewalling as they reached the SUV. Remote chirped sharp; passenger door yawned open.
Lily deposited Emily ungentle onto the supple leather seats—still radiating residual warmth—and slammed it shut with finality, circling to the driver's perch.
The engine purred to predatory life, tires biting gravel as they peeled into the night. Emily massaged her throbbing wrist anew, heartbeat decelerating to erratic thuds. City lights whipped past the tinted windows in vivid streaks—skyscrapers haemorrhaging electric blues and hot pinks into the void.
"Spill it. Those goons yelled 'kidnap her'—big payout. Is this your handiwork?"
Lily white-knuckled the wheel, threading deft through desolate midnight traffic, rain-smeared streets gleaming empty. "I am not a despicable being, Ms. Emily. It smells like someone wants to erase you from this world." Her tone dripped acid familiarity, as if she'd danced this corporate tango before.
Emily blinked, melting deeper into the plush embrace of the seat. "Why risk your neck? You despise me."
Lily's bark of laughter rang hollow, joyless. "Despise? You're a walking disaster. I initially planned to ignore you." Long fingers drummed the wheel, nails manicured to lethal points.
"Then why?" Emily scrutinized her profile.
"Because I am not a heartless human. Despite the fact that you are an alpha, those men wouldn't back down. They could do a lot of things to hurt you,"
Emily flinched in fear. "Where are we going?"
"Hotel. You will stay with me for today."
"What!"
Lily flicked the blinker, merging onto the elevated freeway thrumming with nocturnal semis. Wind howled past, wipers thwacking metronomic against the deluge. Emily's frame wailed fatigue—muscles quaking, jeans sodden weights, sketchpad in her purse a pulpy ruin.
"Why me?" Emily murmured, voice frayed small. "Easy out—let the 'stalker' vanish."
Lily's gaze locked hers via rearview, brown depths unyielding. "Stalker or saint, nobody merits a goon-squad midnight hunt."
The hotel materialized—a monolithic tower masquerading mundane office block, faceless valet ushering them beneath discreet porte-cochere. Lily killed the engine, pivoting full. "Let's go."
"Thank you," Emily nodded languid, alighting on wobbly stems. Lily shadowed protective, palm ghosting her elbow.
Elevator ascended thirty stories smooth, mirrored walls multiplying their duo—Emily's raven tousled chaos, emerald eyes vigilant; Lily's orange disarrayed elegance, stature poised despite drench.
Suite door sighed open to opulent haven—cream silks whispering luxury, panoramic cityscape sprawling infinite.
Lily lobbed towels from the marble-clad bath. "Towel off. Room service if peckish. I'll bolt the doors." She shucked her coat, silk blouse moulded damp to voluptuous lines, collapsing onto the chaise with a gusty exhale.