“What are you doing here?”
He looked toward the door.
“Hiding.”
“From who?”
“My dad.”
I blinked.
“That’s not the answer I expected.”
He shrugged.
“I wasn’t expecting this room either.”
I studied him.
He couldn’t have been older than six.
Maybe seven.
His coat alone probably cost more than everything I owned.
“You ran away from your father?”
He looked down.
“I’m supposed to see a doctor tomorrow.”
“That’s why you ran?”
He nodded.
“He’ll make me go.”
“That’s because doctors are supposed to help.”
“I know.”
His voice became quieter.
“I just don’t like when people talk about me like I’m not there.”
That sentence stopped me.
Because I understood it.
More than he knew.
People had been talking about me for months.
Selling me.
Trading me.
Deciding my future.
Without ever asking what I wanted.
A crash came from outside.
The storage door shook.
The boy flinched.
And instinctively—
I stepped in front of him.
I didn’t think.
I just moved.
Maybe because nobody had protected me.
Maybe because I knew exactly what it felt like to be small and trapped.
The boy noticed.
His eyes dropped to my wrist.
My sleeve had slipped.
The bruises were visible.
His expression changed.
“Did someone do that?”
I pulled my sleeve down.
“It’s nothing.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
The certainty in his voice surprised me.
“It’s not nothing.”
I looked at him.
“What’s your name?”
“Zayn.”
“Aurora.”
He smiled slightly.
“Pretty name.”
“Thank you.”
Another bang.
Regina shouted.
“Aurora! When Tony opens that door, you’re going to wish you came out yourself!”
My body reacted before my mind.
I froze.
Zayn saw it.
Then he looked at the door.
Then at me.
Then he said something so unexpected that for a moment, the entire world became quiet.
“In fairy tales, when a princess is trapped by a witch…”
I looked at him.
“…a knight saves her.”
A broken laugh escaped my mouth.
“I don’t think Brooklyn has many knights.”
He straightened.
“I am.”
I stared.
“You?”
“Yes.”
He said it like it was obvious.
“My dad has lots of people.”
“Your dad?”
“He’s important.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“He is.”
Zayn paused.
Then added:
“But he’s good to me.”
Something about the way he said it made me believe him.
Then he looked at me seriously.
“If you marry me, my dad won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I almost laughed.
Almost.
But then I saw his face.
He wasn’t joking.
He genuinely believed he had found the answer.
A child trying to solve an adult nightmare with the only tools he had.
Trust.
Kindness.
A promise.
“Zayn…”
He stepped closer.
“Will you?”
“What?”
“Marry me.”
The storage room felt strangely silent.
Outside, criminals waited.
Inside, a little boy offered me protection.
Not because he wanted money.
Not because he wanted power.
Because in his mind, good people saved each other.
I knelt down.
“You know marriage is a very big promise.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“You’re six.”
“I know.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He thought about that.
Then said:
“I know enough.”
My throat tightened.
“What do you know?”
He looked at my bruises.
“You’re scared.”
A pause.
“But you stood in front of me anyway.”
I couldn’t answer.
Because somehow this child had seen more of me in five minutes than most adults had seen in years.
I held out my pinky.
“Okay.”
His eyes widened.
“Okay?”
“If this is a fairy tale…”
I smiled faintly.
“…then I suppose I need a knight.”
His tiny finger wrapped around mine.
“Pinky promise.”
“Pinky promise.”
And for the first time in months—
I felt safe.
Only for a second.
Because then the door exploded open.
And everything changed.
I moved in front of Zayn immediately.
The frying pan came up.
But it wasn’t Regina.
It wasn’t Tony.
A man stood in the doorway.
Tall.
Powerful.
Completely calm.
Two men stood behind him.
The stranger wore a black suit that looked like it had been tailored specifically for him.
He didn’t look angry.
That was worse.
Anger was easy.
This was control.
His eyes moved through the room.
Then stopped on Zayn.
“Zayn.”
The boy peeked around me.
“Dad.”
My blood went cold.
Because I knew that voice.
Not personally.
But from rumors.
From whispered conversations.
From newspaper articles people pretended not to read.
Kian Moretti.
The man who controlled half the underground world of New York.
The man criminals feared.
The man people avoided even mentioning.
His eyes moved to me.
To my bruised wrist.
To my split lip.
Then back to his son.
The entire room changed.
“Zayn,” he said quietly.
“What did I tell you about running away?”
The boy looked guilty for exactly two seconds.
Then he smiled.
He grabbed my hand.
And proudly announced:
“Dad, this is Aurora.”
A pause.
Then—
“She’s my future wife.”
And for the first time in my life, I saw Kian Moretti look completely speechless.
PART 2
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Not me.
Not Kian Moretti.
Not even the two men standing behind him.
The only person in the room who seemed completely comfortable was Zayn.
He was still holding my hand.
Like announcing that he had found his future wife to the most feared man in New York was no different from telling his father he had finished his homework.
Kian looked down at our hands.
Then at his son.
Then back at me.
His expression remained controlled, but I noticed something.
A tiny movement.
The slightest tightening around his eyes.
Not anger.
Not disbelief.
Fear.
A father’s fear.
“Zayn,” he said slowly.
“Yes, Dad?”
“Do you understand what the word wife means?”
The little boy nodded confidently.
“It means someone you protect.”
Something flickered across Kian’s face.
A painful little crack in a man who looked like he had been carved from stone.
“And where did you learn that?”
“From you.”
The answer landed harder than any accusation.
Kian stared at his son.
Then his gaze shifted to me.
I suddenly became aware of everything.
The frying pan in my hand.
My messy hair.
My torn sleeve.
The bruises I had tried so hard to hide.
And the fact that I had just pinky-promised marriage with a child whose father could probably buy the entire street we were standing on.
Heat rushed to my face.
“I’m sorry.”
The words came out quickly.
“I know this looks insane.”
Kian didn’t answer.
“I didn’t encourage him.”
Still nothing.
“He found me hiding here.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Why were you hiding?”
The question was simple.
But my body reacted like it was a weapon.
I looked toward the broken door.
Toward the hallway.
Toward the woman who had come to collect me.
Before I could answer, a familiar voice cut through the silence.
“Well, well.”
Regina appeared behind Kian’s men.
Her coat was expensive.
Her hair was perfectly styled.
She looked exactly like the woman who had destroyed my life.
Not tired.
Not guilty.
Not afraid.
Just annoyed.