Chapter 103 Chapter 103 Natasha Arrived
Micah’s POV
The sharp pang of pain in my head was unbearable, but I had no time to dwell on it. I had been hit, and if I didn’t act fast, those fuckers would run to the guards and expose what I just did.
In Mandena, attempting rpe was an unforgivable crime. And now, not only had I done this to Chef Mirabel, but someone I didn’t recognize had barged in, smacked something hard against my head, and helped her escape.
I needed to find them. Fast. I had to make sure they kept their mouths shut—no matter what it took.
Forcing my aching body to move, I lifted my head and looked toward the door. It was still swung wide open, and through it, I spotted two heads peeking into the kitchen. Their eyes were filled with terror.
As I focused, recognition hit me.
Mirabel and Evelyn.
So, it was Evelyn who had struck me. That little bitch had barged in and smashed my head with something hard enough to knock me out.
A slow, seething rage built inside me. Instantly, I took a step forward. I had to catch them. I had to make sure they never spoke a word of this to anyone.
The moment I stepped out of the kitchen, I saw them bolting up the stairs.
Foolish move.
Women were incompetent when they were scared. If men had been in their position, they would’ve rushed outside, called the guards, and had me arrested by now. But these two? They were too panicked to think straight.
I gritted my teeth and pushed forward, ignoring the pain. Right now, nothing mattered more than silencing them.
By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I saw them frantically shoving themselves into a room, slamming the door shut behind them.
A second later, I heard the click of a lock turning.
From inside, I could hear them breathing heavily, their frantic, pounding heartbeats nearly deafening. Their panic was loud—louder than a blaring truck horn.
A twisted smirk stretched across my lips.
This feeling… it reminded me of something.
2014 – Back in College
I had followed a young college student into the ladies’ restroom.
In class, I was one of the best. Other students admired me, looked up to me. But their praise never changed who I was. I never let their respect stop me from indulging in my true nature.
My sexuality was sadomasochism. Whenever I tried to get a woman to consent to my desires, they always refused. They didn’t want to be beaten black and blue, slammed into walls, or handled the way I liked it.
They even called me a psycho because of it.
That was when I stopped asking for consent altogether. If they wouldn’t willingly submit, I would take what I wanted. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.
I remembered how I had barged into that restroom, locking the door behind me.
Her eyes had widened in sheer terror.
“Micah?!” she had stammered, panic evident in her voice.
“What are you doing here?” she had yelled, stepping backward as I slowly advanced toward her.
When her back hit the wall, she had shrieked my name again, her voice trembling.
“Micah?! What are you doing?!”
I had only smirked.
Without hesitation, I had grabbed her head and slammed it against the cold, tiled wall. Blood had splattered, and the rush—the thrill—had sent a wave of pleasure through me.
Present
And now, looking at Mirabel and Evelyn, seeing the same fear in their eyes, I felt that same dark thrill course through me.
The door they locked behind them? It was nothing.
Placing my palm against the wood, I pressed down firmly before curling my fingers into a fist and pounding hard.
“Open this door. Now.” My voice was sharp, commanding.
From the other side, I heard a trembling voice. “Why are you doing this?!”
I couldn’t tell which one of them had spoken, but it didn’t matter. If they didn’t obey, I would kick the damn door down.
“I’m going to count to three,” I warned, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
“One.”
“Two.”
A sharp, frightened gasp came from inside. Their shaking bodies were audible, their breathing ragged.
“We called the police! Leave us alone!” one of them suddenly shouted.
I smirked. An empty threat.
Did they think I hadn’t seen their phones lying in the sitting room? Did they think I believed there was a telephone in their tiny, non-master bedroom?
Ridiculous.
“Three,” I said, stepping back and readying my leg to kick the door open.
But just before I could, a voice rang out.
“Stop it right there!”
A woman’s voice. Cold. Commanding. Unfamiliar.
I froze, snapping my head to the side.
Who the fuck—?
Standing a few feet away was a woman dressed in a sharp, gray fitted suit and matching pants. Behind her, two bodyguards in tailored suits held up pistols, aimed directly at me.
My heart lurched.
Were they really the police? No… the police always wore uniforms. Right?
I narrowed my eyes, examining the woman. As realization dawned, my breath hitched.
“Natasha?!” I blurted.
I hadn’t seen her in years, but I could never forget her. She had been my academic rival back in college—the only woman who had ever competed with me for the top position in class.
What the hell was she doing here?
“Take three steps backward, Micah,” she ordered.
At her command, the bodyguards sprang into action.
Before I could react, they seized my wrists, yanking them behind my back. Cold metal snapped around them—handcuffs.
A moment later, they dragged me out of the mansion, forcing me onto the ground under the scorching sun.
And there they made me sit.
Made me wait for Rebecca to return from work.
Because for now, the police were not involved.