LENA’S POV

My legs felt like lead as I stared down at the unconscious man lying on my living room floor. Who the hell was he, and how did he find his way here? I had to find out.

Cautiously, I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife I could find, holding it tightly in my trembling hand. I needed to protect myself, just in case this stranger posed a threat.

With the knife gripped firmly, I slowly approached the man again, peering out the front window as I went.

The street outside was dark and deserted, apart from an expensive black convertible parked haphazardly at the curb. Was that his car? Did he come here for a reason? My stomach twisted with unease as I shut the door quickly.

With all my strength, I dragged him across the floor, trying not to hurt him further. As I pulled him, I noticed that he was bleeding profusely, but I checked his breathing closely, relieved to find that he was still alive.

I drew in a sharp breath and bent down beside the man, trying to get a better look at him.

He was dressed in a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular frame and a pair of dark slacks. His tattoos on his arms were visible, and a silver earring glinted in his ear. His luscious dark hair fell over his forehead, framing his chiseled features. I couldn't help but notice how breathtakingly handsome he was, even in his current state.

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the knife and setting it aside. Panic set in as I wondered what to do with him.

I was in a new city, with no connections, and I had no idea what to do.Should I call the police? What if he died?

But what if they didn't believe me? What if they thought I had something to do with this? My mind raced with panicked thoughts.

I leaned in closer and noticed the gaping wound in his abdomen. Blood was still seeping from it, staining the fabric of his shirt.

Carefully, I reached out and pressed my hand against it, trying to stop the flow. I could feel his warm skin beneath my fingertips, and my heart had skipped a beat. Focus, Lena, I told myself sternly.

I searched around for a first aid kit before finally locating one in the bathroom cabinet. Hurrying back to the living room, I knelt beside the man and began cutting away his shirt with a small pair of scissors.

My eyes popped out at the sight of his toned muscular chest. Was he a movie star or top magazine model ? I tried to focus, reminding myself that I needed to help him.

As I examined his wound, I realized that he had been shot. I quickly got to work, trying to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. My hands shook as I worked, but I tried to stay calm.

When I was done, I applied a thick, sterile dressing, wrapping it tightly around his middle. Just as I was about to check his pulse again, his eyes suddenly fluttered opened. I gasped as I stared into the most piercing crystal blue eyes I had ever seen. They were sexy, intense, and seemed to bore into my soul.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the only sound being his uneasy breathing. I felt like I was drowning in those eyes, unable to look away.

He tried to sit up with much difficulty. "Now who the hell are you?" He demanded, his voice low and rough.

I scowled at him. "I could ask you the same question. You just barged into my house and passed out disrespectfully," I pointed out.

He raised an eyebrow. "What the heck?" he said. "You're the stranger here obviously."

"How about you stop being rude and say thank you?" I suggested. "You're not dead right now because I saved your life. I could have just left you to die on the floor."

He frowned, glancing down at the bandage on his abdomen for the first time. "What the fuck?" he muttered as a look of surprise crossed his face.

Turning his attention back to me, he said, "Alright, fine. Thank you for not letting me bleed out on your floor." He paused, then added, "Now why don't you complete the help and help me get on my feet?"

I groaned inwardly and cautiously set the knife aside and moved closer to him. "Alright, come on then. But just so you know, you're quite heavy."

With some effort, I managed to get him to his feet, but I immediately felt unsteady. He was so much taller than me that he ended up towering over me. I tripped under his weight and he quickly reached out to steady me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

LENA’S POV

I caught a whiff of his musky scent, and for a moment, I was entranced. But then I snapped out of it, pulling away from him quickly.

He cleared his throat, looking at me with a serious expression. "Okay, can you explain your mission in my house?" he asked. "Were you sent to spy on me or kill me?"

I looked at him weirdly like he suddenly had horns grown on his head. "Your house? Excuse me, but this is my house. I live here, and I paid for it fair and square." I gestured towards the room. "This is an Airbnb, and I'm the one who's renting it for the next two weeks."

He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. "An Airbnb? That's funny, because I don't recall putting this place up for rent."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Well, someone did. And I paid good money for it, so it's mine for the next two weeks, whether you like it or not."

He shrugged, wincing slightly. "I'm sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that this is my house. I don't know how you managed to book it through Airbnb, but it's not yours."

"Look, I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not leaving," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

He narrowed his eyes, studying me intently. "You know, you're awfully stubborn for someone who's trespassing in my house."

"And you're awfully rude for someone who just barged into my rented place and passed out on the floor. Are you a criminal? Why were you bleeding?"

“That’s none of your business sweetheart,”

My heart raced as I watched in horror as a gun suddenly slid out of the stranger's back pocket. I quickly grabbed the knife lying on the floor.

"Oh my God," I breathed, my eyes wide with fear. "You're armed?"

He glanced down at the gun, then back up at me. "Yeah, I am," he said calmly. "Problem?"

I swallowed hard, my hands all shaky as I held the knife in front of me. "I'm also armed," I said, trying to sound confident. "And I'm not afraid to use this."

He raised a brow, looking a bit amused. "Oh, I don't doubt that. But let's be real here, sweetheart. One cock of this gun, and your brains would be all over the floor before you could even raise that little knife of yours."

I felt a chill run down my body at his words, and I couldn't help but notice the way his physique dwarfed my own.

Still, I refused to back down. "Excuse me?" I scoffed. "So you're admitting that you're a criminal then? Were you sent here by Francine or Marcelo?"

He shot me a scowl."Who the heck is Marcelo or Francine?" He shook his head, then quickly slid the gun back into his pocket. "Look, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the moment I opened my eyes, not wasted time chatting with you."

I backed away from him."So what, you're just here to rob me or something?"

He let out a frustrated sigh and walked over to the fridge, pulling it open. "No, I'm not here to rob you. In fact, I'm just here to lay low for a while." He grabbed a can of my favorite mojito and cracked it open, taking a long sip.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Lay low? And you think you can just barge in here and make yourself at home? Besides, I did not give you permission to drink that."

He shrugged, taking another sip of the drink. "Well, one of us has to leave, and it sure as hell ain't gonna be me." He gestured around the room with the can. "This is my place, after all. Also, show me the site where you found this house for sale,"

Reluctantly, I pulled out my phone and showed him the Airbnb listing for the property. He squinted at the screen with a frown.

"Huh, that's interesting," he murmured. "It must have been my younger sister who put this place up for rent.

I guess the little brat thought she could make a quick buck while I was out of town."

I blinked, caught off guard by his casual admission. "Well anyway I’m calling the police. I’m not staying with a stranger."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Good luck with that, sweetheart. I doubt they'll be too eager to help you out."

I was starting to get really frustrated now. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He fixed me with a serious look. "It means that the cops aren't exactly on my side. And if you try to involve them, well, let's just say it might not end well for you."

LENA’S POV

I swallowed hard, my heart beating loudly in my chest. "Are you...are you threatening me?"

He shook his head, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "Not at all, sweetheart. I'm just trying to be realistic here. "

My phone beeped suddenly, making me forget the tension in the room for a second. I looked down to see a message from Francine, with a photo attached. My heart fell as I saw the picture of an infinity custom-made bracelet, worth $50,000. The text accompanying the photo made me more irritated.

"Help me thank your man for this gorgeous bridesmaids gift," Francine wrote.

Marcelo was unbelievable. He had gotten a gift for Francine, the bridesmaid, and not the actual bride herself? It was a slap to my face.

Before I could process my thoughts, the stranger in front of me suddenly snapped his fingers in my face, jolting me back to reality.

"Hey, what's with the sour face?" he asked in his deep smooth voice. "Did somebody die?"

I sighed deeply. "Listen, Mr. Blue Eyes," I started to say, but he interrupted me.

"My name is Miguel," he corrected. "Juan Miguel, to be precise. And what's your name?"

I looked at him calmly, trying to compose myself. "Lena,"

Juan Miguel rose to his feet, abruptly. "Okay Lena, guess we're going to be new housemates now. Oh and believe me, I would have kicked your ass out in a heartbeat if it wasn't for the fact that you took care of my injury."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there in surprise.

I forced myself to finish up my meal, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in my stomach. I had been looking forward to exploring the city, but now it seemed like that plan was ruined. This guy, Juan Miguel, had somehow taken over my rental house, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that he was trouble.

I opened the door to my room, expecting to find some peace and quiet, but instead, I was greeted by the sound of running water. I rushed into the bathroom, thinking that I had left the shower on, but what I saw made my heart skip a beat.

Juan Miguel was standing in the shower, water cascading down his perfect body. I screamed as our eyes met and I quickly slammed the door shut, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

A moment later, I heard the sound of the water turning off, followed by the soft pad of bare feet on the tile floor. I held my breath as the door opened, and there stood Juan Miguel, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

"Well, well, someone's a little jumpy," he said, his voice low and smooth.

I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, and I averted my gaze to the painting on the walls instead.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?" I managed.

He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Your room? Sweetheart, there are two rooms in this house, and I prefer the bigger one."

"But this is my room," I protested. "All of my things are here!"

He shrugged. "Tough luck, Lena. You get the smaller room."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my lips. What was the point? It was clear that this man had no intention of respecting my boundaries or my privacy.

With a resigned sigh, I turned and made my way to the other room.This was not how I had envisioned my Airbnb stay at all.

I must have dozed off at some point, because the sound of gunshots jolted me awake, my heart pounding in my chest. I checked the time and saw that it was 11:15 pm. Fearfully, I stepped out of the room, grabbing a baseball bat from the wardrobe for protection.

As I made my way to the front porch, I gasped in shock at what I saw. Two dead bodies lay on the porch, and Juan Miguel was standing there, casually cleaning his gun. My mouth dropped open as I stared at him in horror.

"Oh my God what the hell did you do?!" I let out a gasp.

“I took care of a little problem.” He answered.

“A problem? You..you killed them?" I stammered, my heart still beating wildly.

He nodded and clicked his tongue. "Yeah, I did. They were causing me some trouble, so I had to take care of it."

"Are you part of the mafia?" I blurted out.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Congratulations, it took you long enough to figure it out," he said.

Of course he had to be! Why didn’t I think of that earlier?

"How about you help me dispose of these bodies?" he asked in a casual tone, as if he was asking me to pass the salt.