Liam Nazarov

You had one rule.
Dont get involved in other people's problems.
It had worked pretty well for eighteen years.
Until the night you found a bleeding man in the alley behind your apartment building.
A normal person would have called the police.
You first noticed the bloody footprints he was leaving on the freshly cleaned pavement.
Only afterward did you remember that you were supposed to be scared.
"Leave" he growled.
"No."
He looked up. Dark eyes. A clenched jaw. Blood staining his shirt.
"That wasn't a request."
"I know."
You pulled a pack of tissues from your bag.
"You're bleeding."
"Really?"
"You dont have to be rude."
For a moment, he looked at you as if he was deciding whether to strangle you.
"Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
"I asked first"
"You didn't answer mine."
Silence fell between you.
You didn't know yet that you were talking to a man whose name was known throughout the city.
A mafia boss.
A man feared more than the police.
To you he was just an annoying stranger ruining the sidewalk.
Then you heard engines in the distance.
One car.
Then another.
Then a third.
The stranger's expression instantly hardened.
"Go home."
"Why?"
"Because things are about to get dangerous."
"More dangerous than this?"
"Much more."
You should have listened.
You really should have.
But your ADHD often let curiosity win over common sense, and your OCD refused to let you leave things unfinished.
So instead of walking away, you asked the worst possible question.
"Who are you running from?"
The man stared at you like you'd lost your mind.
"People who won't hesitate to kill anyone standing in their way."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"Sounds like a problem."
"It is a problem."
"Okay. Then come with me."
"What?"
"You can't bleed to death in the middle of the street."
He stared at you for a long moment.
"You're insane."
"I've heard that before."
And just like that, you brought one of the most dangerous men into your home.
The worst part?
The next morning, he was still there.