EPISODE 2 (The Alley of Cold Blood)

Chapter 2

The Alley of Cold Blood

A faint flicker of irritation crossed Lucius Blackwood’s face as he stood inside the narrow Brooklyn alley, his cold gaze scanning the darkness around him with sharp precision. The entire situation already felt entirely unnecessary. To him, dealing with local gangsters was no different than crushing rats beneath expensive leather shoes. They were loud, reckless, and completely incapable of discipline or control—men who relied only on cheap weapons and empty threats, pretending they owned streets that would destroy them within seconds if real power ever stepped inside. Around him, the alley remained unnaturally silent. It was not the ordinary quiet of a city night, but something deliberate and controlled, as if every distant sound from Brooklyn had been erased with intention. Lucius immediately understood that nothing here was accidental; someone had arranged this space.

Cold rainwater dripped from rusted fire escapes overhead while weak yellow streetlights flickered against the wet pavement. The metallic scent of blood lingered faintly in the air, blending with the sharp tang of rain and smoke. Lucius remained perfectly still, every instinct inside him sharpening automatically. Years surrounded by violence had trained his body to react long before fear ever had the chance to exist.

Then suddenly, a gunshot tore through the heavy silence.

The sound echoed violently across the brick walls, sharp enough to make most people panic instantly. Lucius moved on instinct alone, shifting his body just enough for the bullet to miss him. It grazed his arm lightly before disappearing into the darkness behind. A faint burning sting spread beneath his skin, but his expression never changed. Pain had stopped mattering to him a long time ago. His dark gaze immediately sharpened toward the possible direction of the shooter, every muscle in his body prepared for retaliation, ready to end the threat before it escalated further.

But before he could move, a sudden movement at the far end of the adjoining alley caught his attention.

Beneath the weak streetlights and heavy shadows, a figure stumbled forward unsteadily. Lucius’s focus shifted instantly. The silhouette looked completely out of place against the raw violence surrounding the alley—small, fragile, and barely able to remain standing. Even from a distance, it was obvious the person was severely injured. Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly, observing carefully as the figure slammed weakly against the wall nearby, as though the body could no longer support its own weight. Every movement looked painful, forced, and desperately tragic. For a brief moment, the gunshot behind him stopped mattering entirely, because whatever stood there was not supposed to be part of this situation. And anything outside the plan immediately became his concern.

Slowly, Lucius changed direction and began walking toward the adjoining alley. His footsteps remained calm and measured while the scent of blood grew stronger with every step. As the distance between them closed, the figure finally became clearer beneath the dim light.

It was a girl.

Long, dark hair clung messily against her face and shoulders while fresh blood stained parts of her clothes. Her body swayed dangerously with every weak step she forced herself to take, looking as though sheer willpower alone was dragging her forward while the rest of her body had already given up. Lucius watched silently as she struggled to move another inch, and then, her balance collapsed beneath her entirely. Her body hit the wet pavement hard enough for the sound to echo faintly through the alley.

For several seconds, she remained motionless. Then somehow, against all logic, she tried to stand again. Her trembling hands pressed weakly against the ground while she forced herself upward inch by inch. She barely managed to rise halfway before collapsing again, harder this time. After that, she stopped moving completely. Rainwater slowly gathered around her unconscious body while uneven, painful breaths escaped her lips.

Lucius stared at her silently for a moment before finally walking closer. The bullet graze along his arm still burned faintly beneath his coat, but it barely registered anymore. Whoever attacked her could still be nearby, and he knew better than anyone how dangerous this alley was. Still, he didn’t stop. By the time he finally reached her side, the extent of the damage became visible immediately. Blood had dried near the corner of her lips while dark bruises discoloured her exposed skin. Her breathing sounded strained, as though every breath demanded a massive effort from her exhausted lungs.

She was alive. But barely.

Lucius crouched slightly beside her, studying her condition with a critical eye. If the intention of her attackers had been to kill her, it could have been done cleanly and efficiently. Instead, this looked excessive—violent without control or precision. It was the kind of brutality used by men too stupid to understand discipline. It was sloppy work, and Lucius absolutely hated sloppy work.

For a brief moment, his gaze remained fixed on her unconscious face. She did not belong here; everything about her presence felt misplaced against the darkness surrounding the alley. Yet, even unconscious and covered in blood, there was still something strangely fragile about her—something impossible to ignore. That realization alone irritated him, because Lucius Blackwood rarely involved himself in situations that didn't concern him.

Yet, he still hadn’t walked away.

Without another second of hesitation, Lucius bent down and lifted her carefully into his arms. She felt light, far too light. Her body barely reacted when he pulled her against his chest, rainwater soaking strands of her hair against his coat. The black SUV waiting nearby immediately opened its doors the moment Lucius approached. One of his men stepped out instinctively, visible surprise flashing across his face when he noticed the unconscious girl, but Lucius ignored the reaction completely. Carefully, he placed her inside the vehicle before entering beside her himself. Within seconds, the SUV pulled away from the alley, leaving the darkness behind.

Rain continued striking against the tinted windows while Brooklyn’s city lights blurred outside. Inside the vehicle, silence settled heavily once again. Lucius briefly glanced toward the unconscious girl beside him; her breathing still sounded weak. Too weak. A public hospital was never an option, as too many questions would follow and bring unnecessary attention. Without wasting another second, Lucius pulled out his phone and contacted his personal doctor directly.

“I need the medical room prepared immediately,” he said calmly once the call connected. No panic entered his voice, and no unnecessary explanations followed. Only instructions. The doctor understood immediately; everything would be ready before Lucius arrived.

The call ended shortly afterward. For a brief moment, Lucius glanced down toward the bullet graze on his arm. Blood stained the sleeve faintly, but the injury remained minor and easily ignorable. It could wait. The unconscious girl beside him could not.

Silence filled the vehicle again while the rain continued falling endlessly outside. Lucius leaned back slightly against the seat, his gaze shifting toward her once more. Leaving her behind in that alley had never truly been an option, and somehow, that single fact irritated him Far more than the gunshot ever had.

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