CHAPTER 1: A DEATH IN THE RAIN
Thunder cracked in the sky as a black luxury sedan screeched to a halt beside the gas pumps.
Inside, three young men sat in the backseat, their suits damp from sweat and rain.
These weren't just any men.
They were the sons of three of the most powerful senators in the country.
Their driver remained silent as they watched a young woman, standing under a dim streetlight, shielding herself from the rain with a plastic bag.
She was waiting for a ride.
She was alone.
And they wanted her.
One of them stepped out, adjusting his expensive wristwatch.
"Hey," he called, his voice smooth with arrogance. "Need a lift?"
The woman barely glanced at him. "No, thanks."
He smiled. "You sure? We're generous."
His two companions chuckled from inside the car.
The woman's grip on her bag tightened. "I said no."
The smile faded.
Something dark flashed across his face.
"Come on, sweetheart. Don't make it difficult," he said, stepping closer.
She took a step back.
And that was when something inside him snapped.
A sudden crack of a fist against her jaw sent her stumbling backward.
Her body hit the wet pavement with a sickening thud.
The laughter from inside the car stopped.
For a moment, all they heard was the rain.
Then—one of them cursed.
"Damn it—what the hell, man?"
The girl wasn't moving.
Her chest barely rose. Her head lay at an unnatural angle against the cold, wet ground.
The one who hit her took a step back, his breath shallow.
"I—I didn't mean—"
Then he saw the blood seeping from the back of her head.
His hands began to tremble.
The others in the car stared, their faces pale with shock.
And then—panic.
They ran.
Jumped back into their car.
Tires screeched as they sped away, their faces frozen in sheer terror.
They thought they had gotten away.
They thought no one had seen.
But they were wrong.
Because someone had been watching.
Standing beneath a nearby food stall, holding a steaming plastic bag of takeout, was Alex.
And he had seen everything.