Prologue
Prologue — The Night Without a Name
The city simmered under its lights.
A thick, electric night pulsed with noise — horns, footsteps, life that never slept. Her steps echoed along the empty side street, quick and quiet. She wasn’t afraid. And yet… something inside her whispered to run.
Then—
A hand. A shoulder that shoved her sideways.
A silhouette emerged from the shadows and pulled her sharply into him.
“Don’t make a sound.”
His voice was low. Clipped. His mouth met hers before she could react —
a kiss not born of passion, but necessity.
His breath was harsh. His eyes, restless, scanned the darkness behind her.
Footsteps. A motorcycle engine revving in the distance. A curse yelled.
Then — silence.
Their lips had parted, but the space between them buzzed.
She hadn’t spoken. She didn’t know if she could.
He looked at her. Just a few seconds.
Maybe an eternity.
And then he was gone.
Vanished into the night as suddenly as he had come.
Like a shadow that never should have existed.
An hour later, he lay in another woman’s bed.
The scent of cheap perfume and cigarette smoke clung to the sheets, but he barely noticed. Her hands roamed his skin. Her voice whispered desire.
And still, his mind was elsewhere.
“Something’s wrong,” she said.
“You’re not really here…”
He turned his head, expression unreadable.
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
He was still back in that alley.
Still drowning in the memory of her eyes.
Still haunted by a question he had no right to ask:
Who was she? And why couldn’t he forget her?
