Cielo's POV
I walked toward the park, the night thick with shadows and silence. My heels clicked on the pavement, echoing louder than I expected. I was dizzy—dead drunk. My head spun with grief and wine.
I'd lost my job.
Just like that.
Everything I'd worked so hard for, gone in one afternoon.
I sighed. Once. Twice. A third time. It didn't help.
The cold wind brushed against my face as I tried to focus on the path ahead.
Then I heard voices behind me.
Crude. Male. Drunken laughter.
"Damn… look at that body."
"She walks like a goddess."
"Round bottom, round back… she's perfect."
They were talking about me.
I picked up my pace, but my steps faltered. The alcohol dragged me down. My vision blurred.
Suddenly, they were around me. Three of them. No time to think. No chance to run.
One grabbed my arm, yanking me to the ground. I screamed, loud and sharp—but the night swallowed the sound.
"Go on, baby," one of them whispered darkly. "No one will hear you. It's just the four of us."
I kicked. I fought. But I was too weak. The world spun faster.
Their laughter blurred into one horrible sound as the alcohol took over. My limbs grew numb. My voice trembled into silence.
---
Leon's POV
I had returned to the office to collect some documents I'd forgotten. On the way back, I asked Jim, my driver, to slow down. I'd seen movement up ahead.
A girl with messy hair, stumbling. Three men circling her.
Then I saw her collapse.
Something in me froze.
Jim pulled over without needing to be told. I stepped out of the car, my eyes fixed on the group.
They were laughing.
"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, my voice calm—but sharp enough to cut.
The men turned to me, smirking.
"Who's this guy?" one sneered. "You want a turn too?"
The tallest one grinned and pushed up her skirt, his hand roaming where it should never go.
I stepped forward—then froze.
It was her.
Cielo.
The girl I'd driven home. The one who'd smiled timidly at me. The one whose innocence had stayed in my mind long after that rainy night.
My expression twisted into rage.
"She's my woman," I said coldly.
The man laughed. "I see. You don't like to share. Too bad. I take what I want."
He leaned in toward her again.
That was enough.
I moved faster than they could react. My foot slammed into his stomach with enough force to send him flying, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The other two rushed me. I dodged easily. One punch to the first. A sharp elbow to the other. They both collapsed, coughing blood, trying to drag their leader away.
Too late.
My private security had arrived—black suits, professional, efficient. No words were exchanged. They took the three men without hesitation.
And then… I did something I hadn't done in years.
I touched a woman.
Gently.
I scooped her up in my arms, holding her like glass. Bridal-style.
She trembled violently, crying softly, her face hidden against my chest.
Her hands clutched my shirt, and in that moment, I realized something—this girl wasn't just someone I'd met twice.
She was breaking past every wall I'd built.
And I didn't even try to stop her.