I'm back guys, here we have new characters as I said before reference back to the character checklist.Thank you
______
Five years later
Rain painted silver streaks across the window as the car hummed along the quiet London highway. The city glimmered behind them tall towers swallowed by mist, the glow of headlights fading into night.
In the back seat, a woman sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the blurred reflection of her own face. Her name was Mia Hayes, or at least, that was what everyone called her now.
She lifted her right hand, fingers brushing over the faint scar circling her wrist — pale and thin, like a ghost's whisper. Sometimes it throbbed when she dreamed. Sometimes it burned. But she never knew why.
"Are we almost there, Mummy?"
The little voice beside her pulled her back to the present. Mina, five years old, sat with her bunny plushie squished between her knees. Her eyes soft gray with gold flecks were curious and bright.
"Almost, sweetheart." Mia smiled faintly, though her chest ached with something she couldn't name. "We'll be in City X by morning."
City X.
The name always made her uneasy. It wasn't just another city — it was the place that haunted her dreams. Flames, screams, the sound of something collapsing — and then nothing. Just darkness.
Flashback
When the flames swallowed the west wing that night, firefighter Lucien Graves had been among the first responders. He wasn't supposed to be there — a billionaire who owned half the companies funding the city's emergency services — but he never stopped doing the one thing that once gave him peace: saving lives.
Through the smoke, he found her.
A woman, pale and still, clutching a newborn wrapped in a towel. The tag on her wrist read "Ava Carter."
Lucien didn't think — he just acted. He carried both out of the fire, shielding them with his own body until they were safe in the rain. By the time the paramedics arrived, Ava's pulse was weak but steady.
He didn't leave her side for days. He paid for the private recovery ward under a different name, far from the city, away from reporters. When the doctors said she might never wake, he stayed anyway.
One night, she stirred — her lashes fluttering weakly, eyes opening for a few seconds. Her gaze was unfocused, lost.
"Who…" her voice broke faintly.
Lucien leaned forward, his face half-hidden by the dim light. "You're safe," he said quietly. "Rest now."
Her eyes closed again. She remembered nothing after that.
When she finally woke fully two weeks later, Lucien was gone. The nurses told her she'd been in an accident, that her name was Mia, and that her baby — Mina — was safe. Her wrist bore a faint scar, the only mark left from the past she no longer remembered.
Lucien had arranged everything before he disappeared — a new name, a new life, a small fortune transferred quietly to a trusted family in a quiet countryside town outside London.
And for five years, she lived that way — as Mia, a single mother with no memory of who she'd been, her daughter growing bright and curious beside her.
"Promise me you'll hold my hand the whole time," she told Mina softly.
"I promise." Mina grinned, her dimple flashing — so much like her mother's.
As their jet cut through the clouds toward City X, Mia felt her stomach twist. She told herself it was just nerves. But deep down, she knew it was something else — something that lived beneath her skin, waiting.
The air smelled of rain and exhaust. Neon lights bled across puddles on the street. City X hadn't changed — still loud, alive, and ruthless.
Mia walked hand-in-hand with Mina through the crowded night market. The girl's laughter blended with the sound of street musicians and car horns.
"Don't wander off, okay?" Mia said as she stopped to pay for roasted corn.
But Mina had already spotted a balloon seller across the street. She tugged her hand free. "I'll be quick, Mummy!"
"Mina—!"
The balloon slipped from the vendor's hands, floating up. Mina chased it, giggling, running into the street. A car horn blared. Tires screeched.
Time slowed.
Then, before Mia could scream, a figure moved — fast as lightning. A tall man in a dark coat caught the child in his arms, twisting his body to shield her as the car swerved past.
Mia's heart froze.
When she reached them, her breath hitched. The man rose slowly, his strong frame silhouetted by the city lights. His hair was damp, his jaw sharp, eyes dark and unreadable.
He crouched, setting Mina safely on her feet. "You shouldn't run off, little one." His voice was deep — low enough to command silence even in chaos.
Mina blinked up at him. "Thank you, sir."
Mia knelt, pulling her daughter close. "You scared me, Mina. Don't ever do that again."
The man straightened, his gaze falling on Mia. For a moment, neither spoke. The rain dripped from his coat, his scent faintly of smoke and rainwater. Something in his presence felt... familiar.
"Be careful," he said simply, his tone neither cold nor kind — just steady. "City X doesn't forgive carelessness."
Then he turned to leave.
"Wait," Mia said, though she didn't know why.
He paused.
"Thank you," she breathed.
His lips twitched into the faintest smile. "You're welcome."
He handed Mina the balloon before walking away, his tall figure vanishing into the misty crowd.
Only then did Mia notice something on the ground — a black business card, wet from rain. She picked it up.
Lucien Graves
CEO — Graves International
Her eyes widened slightly. Graves? The name stirred something deep inside her.
When she looked up again, he was gone.
LATER THAT NIGHT
Mia lay awake in the hotel suite, staring at the ceiling. The city lights bled through the curtains, painting her face in gold and shadow.
On the nightstand, the business card gleamed faintly beneath the lamp. Lucien Graves.
The name wouldn't leave her mind.
She didn't know he was still here or that he was this powerful now. Billionaires bowed when he entered a room. The Fords could barely breathe in the same air as him. Yet he still wore the badge of a firefighter, still walked into danger like he had nothing to lose.
She closed her eyes. For the first time in years, she dreamed again.
Flames. Smoke. A man's arm lifting her. The sound of a baby crying.
A voice whispering "You're safe now."
When she woke, her wrist throbbed beneath the scar.
And in that moment, she knew City X wasn't done with her yet.