Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Cristian Reed, sprawled in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut.

“Wow, the girl is stunning! Look at those legs—so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She’s got skills that could rival yours!”

Bobby’s constant chatter finally broke through Cristian’s reserve. With a sigh, Cristian’s eyes fluttered open.

At that moment, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, highlighting his angular features and drawing attention to the small mole beneath his eye.

With a slow, lazy drawl, his deep voice tinged with fatigue, Cristian replied, “Aren’t you getting engaged soon? Isn’t the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?”

Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression twisting in clear distaste. “She’s nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in the middle of nowhere. Who’s to say she isn’t just some ugly country bumpkin? My friends probably think I’m some unlucky fool. Cristian, you’re my cousin. You shouldn’t make fun of me like they do!”

Cristian simply crossed his arms, stretched out his long legs, and settled more comfortably in his seat, offering no response.

The silence only seemed to intensify Bobby’s frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, when Bobby glanced again at the girl’s striking figure under the streetlight, his mood shifted and curiosity sparked in his eyes.

With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned out, his tone dripping with charm. “Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?”

“No, thank you.” Her words were crisp and cold, cutting through the night air like a sudden chill, leaving both men momentarily frozen. In the backseat, Cristian tensed. His eyes snapped open, and he whipped his head toward the sound of her voice.

That voice—it was unmistakably the same girl he had met in that dimly lit motel.

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Cristian moved with such speed that he seemed to blur the line between thought and action as he swung open the car door and stepped out.

Fernanda assumed his approach was just another attempt at flirtation. Without a second glance, she turned away and continued walking. She had only taken a few steps when a strong, unyielding grip stopped her.

She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had grabbed her.

He was tall and strikingly handsome, radiating an undeniable presence. One hand rested casually in his pocket, while the other firmly held her arm. His piercing gaze locked onto hers.

“Well, if it isn’t you,” Cristian said slowly, recognition flickering in his eyes. “Seems like we keep running into each other, huh?”

Fernanda’s eyes widened in surprise as she realized who he was—the man from that unforgettable night.

Knowing he was a dangerous fugitive, she instinctively wanted to keep her distance. Quickly regaining her composure, she adopted a cool, detached demeanor. “I’m sorry, sir. You must be mistaken,” she replied calmly.

“No,” Cristian answered, his voice low and steady, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “A debt of gratitude is something I never forget.”

His words revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed was not just a courtesy but a principle he lived by.

Meanwhile, Bobby had stepped out of the car and stood a short distance away, his face full of confusion. “What’s going on?” he called.

Cristian ignored Bobby, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda, giving her a subtle nod.

Fernanda remained rooted in place, her eyes sharp with caution. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’d like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?” Cristian asked with a warm, inviting smile.

Though it sounded like a question, Fernanda could tell from his tone that refusing was not truly an option.

Knowing his temperament, she realized that rejection might only make things worse. With a resigned sigh, she gave a quiet nod. “Fine.”

A faint smile flickered across Cristian’s face as he graciously gestured for her to get in, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby stared in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!”

Cristian had effortlessly charmed the captivating girl with just a few words, an achievement Bobby found deeply impressive.

When Bobby tried the back door, he realized it was locked. “Cristian?” he asked, confusion in his voice.

“Leave,” Cristian commanded firmly.

Left standing in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car disappear into the shadows. He had been the first to notice the girl—why had they left him behind?

Inside the car, Cristian broke the silence with a rapid stream of questions. “Are you from Esaham or Zhota?”

“Zhota,” she answered softly.

“And your name?”

“Letty Molina.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five,” Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cristian glanced sideways at her, skepticism evident in his voice. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Reality seldom matches our expectations,” Fernanda replied, her tone steady. “Take your appearance, for instance. In that perfect suit, you look like a business tycoon, but you’re the same fugitive I encountered the other night.”

Cristian couldn’t help but laugh, amusement in his voice. “You do have a point.”

Fernanda had finally dropped the pretense about their earlier meeting. Cristian felt a sense of relief; if she had continued to pretend, he had his own ways of making her acknowledge the truth.

As usual, Esaham’s traffic was hopelessly congested. Cristian turned onto a quieter side street, hoping to avoid the gridlock. Breaking the silence, he suggested, “I know a cozy spot run by a fellow from Zhota—serves great food. Let’s head there.”

“Sure,” she replied, her tone calm but firm.

Just as Fernanda’s reply lingered in the air, a sudden crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrown back, the seatbelt biting into her shoulder.

Cristian’s eyes shot to the rearview mirror.

Without warning, a van swerved in front of them, blocking their path. Vehicles closed in from both sides, and men spilled out, wielding menacing tools, their figures ominous in the dim streetlight.

Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console and pulled out a knife.

“Whatever happens, stay inside the car. Don’t even think about getting out,” he ordered firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a determined nod, he added, “I’ll handle this. Afterward, dinner’s on me.”

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