Page 36 of The Dark Stranger
“I don’t need saving,” she murmured to the empty room.
But the words didn’t land the way they used to.
Because somewhere, deep down, beneath the frustration and the instinct to push everything away, something else stirred — something dangerous and unfamiliar.
Curiosity.
And whoever he was…
He was already closer than she realized.
4
Silas sat alone in his office overlooking the city, the glass walls framing a skyline that never slept. Steel. Concrete. Lights that never went dark.
He didn’t look at them.
The only movement in the room came from his hand—slowly squeezing the weighted grip he held, knuckles whitening just slightly before releasing again.
A knock sounded.
The door opened without waiting for an answer.
“Hey, boss,” the man said casually, though there was respect in his tone. “We’ve got two more victims coming in today.”
Silas didn’t look up right away.
His grip tightened.
Then loosened.
“Thanks, Jace,” he said calmly. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Jace nodded and stepped back out, closing the door behind him.
Silas rose from his chair and straightened his dark blue suit, tailored perfectly to his broad frame. Expensive, but understated. He had never been the type of manwho sought the spotlight. He preferred control to attention. Silence to applause.
Which was ironic considering how often eyes were on him.
On paper, Silas Winter was the face of a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping victims of human trafficking rebuild their lives. Protection. Housing. Counseling. Work placement. He was the man law enforcement trusted. The one hospitals called. Lawyers, social workers, counselors—all of them knew his name.
He was reliable. Professional. Untouchable.
Cameras followed him more than he liked. Reporters tried to dig where they didn’t belong. He shut it all down every time.
No names.
No faces.
No stories exploited for sympathy.
Protection always came first.
What the world didn’t know—what it could never know—was that Silas and his crew weren’t just helping victims after the fact.
They were the ones pulling them out.
The underworld hated his organization. Feared it. Whispers moved through dark channels about a facelessoperation dismantling trafficking rings one by one. No one ever traced it back to him.
