His Broken Bride Is A Hidden Genius

The rain in Hell's Kitchen didn't fall; it attacked.

Adeline Summers kept her head down, her cheap canvas sneakers splashing through the oily puddles of the dark alley. The cold water soaked through her thin jacket, making her shiver, but she didn't slow her pace. She needed to get out of this neighborhood. Now.

A sickening crack echoed through the narrow space.

It was the sound of bone snapping. Adeline's body went completely rigid. Her breath caught in her throat. She pressed her back against the rough, wet brick of the building, her eyes piercing through the heavy curtain of rain.

Ten yards ahead, a massive man wearing a black surgical mask had another man pinned against the wall. The masked man's eyes were dead. Empty. Like a reaper calculating the weight of a soul.

The pinned man let out a wet, gurgling plea.

The masked man didn't hesitate. His massive forearm flexed, pressing harder against the victim's windpipe. The man's eyes rolled back, and he slumped into the muddy water, completely unconscious.

Adeline stopped breathing. She took a slow, agonizing step backward.

Crunch.

Her heel found a broken beer bottle hidden in the puddle. The glass shattered, the sharp noise cutting through the rain like a gunshot.

The masked man's head snapped toward her. His gaze locked onto the trash cans where she stood. A heavy, suffocating pressure slammed into Adeline's chest. Her heart hammered against her ribs so violently it hurt.

She turned and ran.

Her wet soles slipped on the slick asphalt. Her knees slammed into the ground, tearing the skin. Before she could push herself up, a large, freezing hand clamped down on the back of her neck.

He lifted her entirely off the ground.

Adeline choked, her hands flying up to claw at the iron grip. He spun her around. The smell of fresh copper blood and expensive, woody cologne invaded her senses. It was a terrifying, aggressive combination.

His dark eyes scanned her terrified face. Without a word, his free hand ripped open the pockets of her jacket.

Adeline kicked and thrashed. His fingers tightened on her throat. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision. Her lungs burned for oxygen.

His hand dove into her inner shirt pocket. He yanked out a silver necklace with a thick pendant. Her grandfather's only relic.

Panic spiked in Adeline's veins. She reached for it instinctively.

He caught her wrist and twisted it backward. A sharp, blinding pain shot up her arm. She gasped, her knees buckling.

He stared down at her, the killing intent in his eyes solidifying. He was going to snap her neck. Adeline's brain fired on all cylinders. She needed a way out. She needed him to see her as something else. Something harmless. Something broken.

She let her body go completely limp.

The sharp, calculating light in her eyes vanished, replaced by a hollow, vacant stare. She let her jaw drop slightly. A string of saliva pooled at the corner of her mouth. She tilted her head, offering him a wide, senseless, childlike grin.

The man's grip on her throat loosened a fraction. His dark brows pulled together in deep confusion.

Adeline raised a mud-covered hand. She reached out, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated, and poked the edge of his black mask.

"Peekaboo," she giggled.

Extreme revulsion flashed in his eyes. He swatted her hand away so hard she flew backward, rolling through the muddy puddle.

Adeline didn't cry. She stayed on her hands and knees in the filth and laughed. A high-pitched, grating sound that echoed unnervingly in the rain.

The man's breathing suddenly hitched. The muscles in the hand that had just been wrapped around her throat began to twitch violently, the fingers curling and uncurling against his will. He stared at his own skin as if she had infected him with a disease.

Adeline reached into the puddle. She found a discarded, dirt-covered lollipop still in its wrapper. She tore the plastic off with her teeth and shoved the filthy candy into her mouth, sucking on it loudly.

The man watched her chew on the garbage. The urge to kill her was rapidly being swallowed by a visceral, physiological disgust.

Sirens wailed in the distance. The sound cut through the rain. The man's ear twitched. He wasn't going to waste time on a retard.

He shoved the silver necklace into his trench coat pocket. He looked down at her one last time, his eyes filled with absolute contempt.

Adeline sucked on the lollipop, offering him a blank, stupid stare. Inside, her mind was taking a photographic snapshot of his height, his build, the exact shade of his eyes.

He turned to walk away. But the violent twitch in his hand spread up his arm. His sanity was fraying. He stopped, his broad shoulders tensing.

He reached into his boot and pulled out a military-grade combat knife.

He turned back around. He walked slowly toward Adeline, the steel blade catching the dim, sickly yellow light of the streetlamp.