Will you marry me, Miss Aurora?” A six-year-old boy asked me that question while I was hiding in a restaurant storage room from the men who had come to collect me like property. I laughed and said yes—never imagining that seconds later, his father would walk through the door, and I would realize I had just promised myself to the son of the most feared mafia boss on the East Coast.

The silence in the cramped storage room fell so heavy it made my ears ring.

Kian Moretti stood framed in the doorway, his tall, imposing silhouette blocking out the dim hallway lights. In the dark, tailored lines of his three-piece suit, he looked less like a man and more like an impending storm. Behind him, two broad-shouldered men in tactical gear hovered like lethal shadows, their hands resting comfortably near their holsters.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I kept Zayn firmly behind my back. My knuckles turned white against the handle of the dented metal frying pan. I was terrified, bruised, and cornered—but if this monster was going to lay a finger on the boy who had just offered me his innocence, he’d have to go through me first.

“Dad!” Zayn piped up again, blissfully oblivious to the tension suffocating the room. He tugged at my denim jacket. “Look, I told you I’d find a knight! Well, she’s not a knight, she’s a princess with a pan, but she promised!”

Kian didn’t look at his son right away. His sharp, storm-gray eyes swept over me with ruthless precision. He saw the smear of blood on my lip, the purple finger-shaped bruises blooming across my wrists, and the wild, desperate fury blazing in my eyes.

A tiny flick of his hand was all the command his men needed. One of them stepped forward, but before he could touch me, the outer door of the restaurant smashed open.

“Where is she?!” Regina’s shrill voice echoed down the hallway, followed by the heavy, dragging footsteps of Tony’s enforcers. “I know she’s in the storage room! Move out of my way!”

Regina rounded the corner, flanked by two towering men wearing cheap leather jackets—Tony’s infamous debt collectors. She opened her mouth to shriek my name, but the words withered in her throat the moment her eyes landed on Kian Moretti.

The two debt collectors froze instantly, their aggressive posture deflating into rigid terror.

“M-Mr. Moretti,” one of Tony’s men stammered, stepping back so quickly he nearly tripped over his own boots. “We… we didn’t know this was your business. We were just collecting a debt from—”

“You’re shouting in my presence,” Kian said. His voice was smooth, quiet, and dropped the temperature of the room by ten degrees.

Regina, driven by pure greed and desperation, swallowed hard and pushed herself forward. “Mr. Moretti, please! That girl, Aurora—she’s my stepdaughter! She owes fifty thousand dollars to Tony! She belongs to us until that debt is paid!”

Kian finally broke his gaze from me, slowly turning his head toward Regina. The look in his gray eyes was so cold, so devoid of humanity, that Regina instinctively took a step back.

“She belongs to Tony?” Kian asked softly.

“Yes! Her father left her to me, and—”

“Zayn,” Kian interrupted, his eyes never leaving Regina. “What did you say to this woman?”

Zayn peeked out from behind my hip, pointing his small finger at me. “She’s my fiancée, Dad. I picked her out. And she pinky-promised.”

A heavy beat passed. The enforcers looked as if they had just been hit by a freight train. Regina’s jaw dropped so low it nearly touched her chest.

Kian looked back at me. His expression remained entirely unreadable, a mask of carved ice. “Is this true?”

My throat felt bone-dry. I looked down at Zayn, whose wide, hopeful brown eyes were searching mine, then back up at the most dangerous man on the East Coast. If I denied it, Kian would walk away, and Regina would hand me over to Tony’s men within five minutes. If I played along… I was handing my life over to a mafia kingpin.

“A promise is a promise, Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.

Kian’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a dark, amused line. He turned back to his bodyguard, Luca.

“Clear the hallway,” Kian ordered. “And tell Tony that if he or his trash ever speaks Aurora’s name again, I will tear down his entire operation by midnight.”

“Right away, Boss,” Luca replied. Within seconds, Tony’s enforcers practically dragged Regina out the back exit, her shrill protests fading into terrified silence.

Kian stepped into the small storage room, his massive frame filling the space until I could smell the scent of costly woodsmoke, leather, and rain lingering on his coat. He extended a hand toward his son.

“Car. Now, Zayn,” Kian commanded softly.

Zayn pouted, but he knew better than to cross his father when he used that tone. He gave my hand one last squeeze. “Don’t worry, Miss Aurora. Knights never break their word.” He scurried out the door, guarded by the remaining bodyguard.

Then, it was just the two of us surrounded by flour sacks and stainless steel shelves.

Kian closed the distance between us until he was standing less than an inch away. My breath hitched. He reached out with a gloved hand, his long fingers gently catching my chin, tilting my face toward the harsh light overhead. His thumb brushed over the cut on my lip, his touch unexpectedly soft compared to the lethal aura radiating from him.

“You’re bleeding,” he noted flatly.

“I’ve had worse,” I blurted out, trying to pull away, but his grip was firm as iron.

“Zayn hasn’t spoken to a woman like that since his mother walked out three years ago,” Kian said, his eyes scanning every inch of my battered face. “He doesn’t trust strangers. He certainly doesn’t ask them to marry him.”

“It was just a game to keep him calm—”

“My son doesn’t play games,” Kian cut me off. He lowered his hand, tucking it casually into his trousers pocket. “You’re running from a fifty-thousand-dollar debt. You’re bruised, exhausted, and sleeping in back alleys. You have nowhere left to go, Aurora.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know everything that happens in Brooklyn,” he replied coldly. “Here is the deal. I buy Regina’s debt. I wipe your slate clean. I give you a home, safety, and a life where no one will ever lay a finger on you again.”

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “And what do you want in return, Mr. Moretti? Men like you don’t play savior for free.”

“You play the part,” he said, stepping closer until his dark voice vibrated straight through my chest. “Zayn needs stability. The press and my enemies have been targeting his mother’s absence to paint me as an unstable leader. You will move into my estate. You will act as Zayn’s caretaker, and to the outside world, you will be my fiancée.”

I gasped. “A fake engagement? You’re insane.”

“I am pragmatic,” Kian corrected smoothly. “A contract. One year. After that, I set you up with a new identity, a house, and enough money to never run again. Refuse, and I walk out that door right now, leaving you to whatever Regina has planned.”

I looked at the heavy door, then down at my bruised wrists. I was tired of running. I was tired of being hunted.