Alex stared at his titanium Apple watch as he waited in line at the Drip, his favorite cafe, for his morning Americano. Its minimalistic black and white face looked back at him blankly as his hand gathered up sweat from holding his leather briefcase for so long. His Armani shoes made an annoying tapping noise as he looked around the shop. He hated having an insatiable coffee fix in the morning that made him irritable and anxious. Having a weakness wasn't something that he was used to.

He always drank the Americano because it was simple and got the job done without any extra bells and whistles. He hated frilly drinks like frappes and lattes. If he wanted to drink coffee, he was going to drink coffee, not a damn milkshake.

The tapping rudely interrupted the soft alternative music playing in the background. The sound usually calmed him but today he found it a nuisance. He attempted to focus on the surroundings of the shop to keep him distracted. It was filled with average citizens, dying to get their caffeine fix. Most of them were engrossed in their phones or talking with a friend.

The sight of people chatting away with their companions made him uncomfortable. Although Alex did not quite envy them, he did find himself feeling lonely from time to time. The desire to have another, no matter how pathetic he found it, often consumed his thoughts. He had his brother, Ethan, but he wanted someone else. Someone that could satisfy his...other needs. But he didn't do relationships. Most women were too clingy. Others were only into him because of his good looks and wealth. He hated that his beauty only attracted the type of women that he hated. They couldn't handle a conversation that involved anything remotely intellectual. So he disposed of them.

He didn't hate all women, though. He knew that there had to be good women in the world. Women who were kind and intelligent with looks to match. But he never came across them. Because he moved higher up in the ranks, his events consisted of brown nosing the rich and successful to make sure the firm had enough money to keep going. People loved to flirt with him and he did just enough to start a conversation to get their checkbooks out. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to make sure that the clients that actually needed his services would get the defense that they deserved. If sucking up to a pitiful white collar criminal made sure that an innocent black kid's parents got the defense they deserved, so be it.

He turned his head to distract himself by looking at something out of the window but he caught a glimpse of his reflection and grinned. He knew he was attractive. His emerald eyes drastically contrasted with his deep skin. They were a light yet bright green; light like a child playing with watercolors that added too much liquid to their paint. His skin was unblemished and poreless with the hue of beurre noisette that came from his Indian and West Indian roots. His long, inky black curls cloaked his shoulders and hung at his waist. However, he usually held them up in a ponytail to make sure they get didn't get in his way when he was going over a brief. This was unbecoming of one of the top criminal law attorneys in New York, but he didn't care. He had secured his status enough that he could do with his hair as he pleased and people would still give him cases to work on. He had a sharp, strong jawline and a chiseled, muscular body cloaked in tattoos. He wore long sleeve suits, even in the summer, to conceal his art covered body. He had a neat, full beard that he kept trimmed and well taken care of. He had his thick eyebrows done regularly. His strong hands were manicured and soft. Most men hated the idea of any type of grooming other than their hair and Alex thought that to be revolting. He held himself to a high standard so he had to look the part.

In the image of himself in the mirror, he noticed a couple of women in the corner of the shop ogling at him and giggling. He sniffed and turned the other way, making sure that they knew he saw them. They looked like a group of brainless idiots who were either chatting about his looks or his latest case. It didn't matter to him because he wasn't interested.

The chirping sound of the bell brought Alex out of his own mind to see who had walked in. He was taken aback by the sight.

The person who had walked in was a woman. The most gorgeous woman Alex had ever seen. She was tall with long, thick, and slightly muscular legs and arms. Her flawless, rich amber skin seemed to glow in the sunlight as if her face was drowned in glitter but she wore no makeup except for the thin layer of clear gloss on her plump brown lips. Her long lashes looked fake but they were just as mesmerizing as everything else about her so they had to be real unless he was dreaming. After seeing her, he wasn't quite sure. Her cerulean eyes were one of his favorite things about her. They were so blue that they were almost clear like the waters of the Great Barrier Reef. Yet they still had a ferocity to them that he couldn't explain. She wore all black; a thick turtleneck that clung to every inch of her torso, giving a tease of her defined abdomen with leggings that complimented her athletic legs. Her long, dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head.

She met his gaze with a strange level of intensity and Alex was impressed. Most women blushed and could not keep eye contact with him, but here she was, staring right back. He watched her, wondering what fueled the fire behind her gaze.

She looked away from him and focused her attention on something else. But Alex could not look away. She walked as if her entire world was a runway and everybody else was just witnessing it. She made a quick round around the small cafe, catching stares as she passed. She held her head with regality, and her expression was empty, her emotions unseen.

As she moved around, it wasn't her beauty that had him so engrossed. He had seen many beautiful women, none like her, but many beautiful nonetheless. She was clearly on high alert, but it was her mask of a face that intrigued him. This was a woman who had been through a lot of pain and seen things most people could never even imagine. She understood the real horrors that simply living could bring to a person and the evil lives within the world. He never thought there could be someone other than his brother who could truly understand him and the choices he had to make. But something about this woman told him she could.

He was startled when she suddenly stared at him again, her blue eyes filled with the same intensity as before. He opened his mouth to say something, but she ran to him, tackling him to the floor. Alex's head slammed against the tile floor as the rest of the shop stared in shock at the events unfolding in front of them. He winced at the pain as the back of his head throbbed. Even though Alex was confused and somewhat uncomfortable, he was enjoying a closer view of her face. The softness of her jawline and her defined collarbone made him want to reach out and touch her, but he knew better than that. With barely any space between them, he inhaled the scent of her perfume that was filled with notes of citrus and fresh florals.

"Everyone get down! If you don't want to die, get down!" She shouted.

Before he could ask her what the fuck she was doing, bullets rained over them, and the people in the shop scattered to protect themselves. He could hear the frantic cries of the few who had been hit and the prayers of those who hoped they wouldn't. The barista who was going to hand Alex his long-awaited caffeinated drink was shot directly in the head seconds after the tackle. His body landed on the counter like a dead fish, blood, and caffeine mixing in a devious concoction.

Is this assault an attack on me? Alex thought, his mind racing. If so, how did this woman know and why did she come to protect me?

"Son of a bitch," the woman cursed under her breath, clutching her shoulder. Her velvet like voice touched deep inside him like a caress to his soul. As she pulled her hand away, Alex noticed the blood.

"Miss, I―" Alex began, but she clamped her clean hand like a vice around his mouth.

"Don't say anything, I don't want them to hear you," she murmured, seemingly unaffected by her bleeding shoulder. "Don't worry about me, I've had much worse." She smiled at him, but he was still worried. Her black clothes masked the wound, but Alex could tell from the amount of blood that it wasn't a simple cut.

The sounds of bullets and breaking glass had stopped. Alex started to move to get up so he could survey the damage, but he froze in place once he felt the woman grip his shoulder.

"Don't move an inch," she breathed, her voice so quiet that it could've been mistaken for the wind. "They'll hear you."

Alex could not see the other patrons, but the shop was eerily still. No one even dared to take a breath as the men made their rounds, hunting for their intended victim.

He closed his eyes and the woman laid like a corpse on top of him. The booted people walked throughout the shop, still searching. Alex's blood ran cold as he heard them speak.

"Pense-tu qu'elle est venue ici pour lui dire?" (Do you think she ran in here to tell him?) one of them asked, their voice disguised by a voice altering mask.

"Je ne l'ai pas vue parmi les corps. Si elle est blessée, son agence aura sûrement nos têtes. Ils connaissent déjà notre opération," the voice replied. (I did not see her amongst the bodies. If she is injured, her agency will have our heads. They already know of our operation.)

"Oh merde! Regarde!" (Oh shit! Look!) The voices began to creep closer to them, but the woman had draped her body so that Alex could not be seen from their angle. But why? Alex thought to himself, not noticing that her blood was soaking into his Italian suit.

Alex could feel her heartbeat increasing against his chest as they got closer. He wanted to ease her anxiousness, but he was equally nervous, if not more so. Maybe they were going to notice him. This would've defeated the whole point of her tackling him in the first place. Not that he was complaining.

"Oh Dieu, non. Putain idiot! Je t'ai dit que nous devrions d'abord avoir choisi la place. Nous sommes morts, nous sommes morts." (Oh God, no. You fucking idiot! I told you we should've scoped the place out first. We're dead, we're dead.)

Alex could feel her smile against his shoulder. Why did her death scare these people this much? Who was this woman? The fact that she found this amusing intrigued him immensely. Only an idiot or a brilliant person could laugh in the face of death. He couldn't wait to figure out which one she was.

"On dirait qu'elle est encore en vie, alors peut-être que ce ne sera pas si mal―" (It looks like she's still alive though so maybe it won't be that bad―)

"Non, nous devons sortir d'ici. Allons-y!" (No, we've got to get out of here. C'mon!)

"Nous n'avons même pas atteint notre cible! Patron va nous tuer si son employeur ne le fait pas." (We didn't even get our target! Boss is going to kill us if her employer doesn't.)

"Nous aurons une autre occasion. Cet avocat est un chef de file dans cette ville." (We will have another opportunity. This lawyer is a prominent head in this city.) Alex's heartbeat stilled as those words flowed from the man's mouth. He had been the target. His past was coming back to haunt him. But how did they find him? He had been so careful.

Police sirens rang loud and clear throughout the shop and the men shifted, obviously uncomfortable at the idea of being caught. At least, he thought they were men. He could only make an educated guess from their weight and shoe size since he couldn't see anything.

"Allons-y! Nous ne pouvons rien changer maintenant." (Let's go! We can't change anything now.)

Ethan was going to be so pissed when he found out. Having a police commissioner for a brother had its perks, but most of the time it was just annoying. His brother prodded into his life to the point of stalker-like behavior. He mostly did it to annoy Alex, but the overarching reason was that his brother was the only family he had left and he was going to protect Alex from danger by any means necessary.

Alex heard the boots retreat with a frantic urgency, without noticing him, the man that was supposed to be their target. He was kind of offended that they sent these idiots to kill him. Did they think he had forgotten everything he had been through? He needed to be worth more than that.

He stayed still until he heard a car drive off.

The woman jumped off of him with practiced speed, and he noticed her wince before she gazed down at him. Her blue eyes shined as the light hit them, glittering like stars, causing him to lose his composure. "Stay safe, princess," she murmured, keeping her voice low. "Make sure to take care of yourself."

Before he could thank her, or say anything to retort what she implied, she ran out the back, disappearing into the Manhattan streets. 

A/N: What do you think her motivations are for saving Alex? What do you think of the two of them so far?