FLORA'S POV:
As I lay on the bed, my eyes darted from one spot to another, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Jonathan got up and staggered to the bathroom. As he walked, I got a full glimpse of his body, and I realized how well-built he was. His figure was strong and structured, and my eyes followed him until he disappeared into the bathroom. I held the necklace and caressed it playfully. Before Jonathan came out of the bathroom, I had fallen asleep.
I woke up a few hours later to find that the day had worn off. Though it didn't seem like I had slept that long. It was already night. I stood up and wobbled into the bathroom, still exhausted from the intense sex we had earlier. I filled the bathtub with hot water and slid inside, letting the warmth calm my nerves and ease my burden. As the steam surged through my body, I felt a rare sense of peace—something I hadn't experienced since arriving here. Overwhelmed, I closed my eyes to revel in the moment. I wished the peace could last forever.
After a while, I stepped out, took a quick shower, and slipped into my nightie. I went downstairs. The entire house was eerily quiet, the silence only interrupted by the gentle hum of the air conditioner. I pushed the unease aside and walked to the kitchen; I was starving and needed to eat as soon.
The dining table wasn’t as messy as we had left it earlier. Jonathan must have cleaned it up. But where was he? I wondered. I rummaged through the kitchen and prepared something light since it was already late. After eating, I moved to the living room, flipping through channels on the TV without paying much attention.
Then something caught my eye on a random news channel. It was a picture of me—or rather, Dahlia—displayed as wanted, with a high reward posted. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t focus on the rest of the broadcast. Bewildered, I froze. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew staying here wasn’t safe. Lucian must have been behind it, nobody else would want me. Except if Dahlia had so many engagements before I came. But she seemed to be a whore struggling to survive. But if it was Lucian. he’d find me soon if I stayed any longer.
But where was Jonathan? Could he know about this? I didn’t trust him completely, so I shrugged it off and stood up. As I climbed back upstairs, the tension in the house became suffocating. My heart pounded with each step. Flicking open the door to my room, I reached for my phone and dialed Trina’s number. It rang endlessly before timing out with no response.
Impatience clawed at me. I dialed again, and this time, just before it could time out, she picked up in a groggy voice. “Dahlia, stop bugging my phone. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, Don't call me again.” she muttered before hanging up.
Panic set in. What if Lucian had found Trina? What if visiting her was a trap? The possibilities swirled in my mind, leaving me paralyzed. I sat on the bed, beads of sweat forming on my forehead, unsure of what to do. “Be with me, Selene,” I whispered to myself, clutching the necklace.
I stood up, grabbed my bag, and headed downstairs. I reached the entrance door, but it was securely locked. Cursing under my breath, I tried the back door, but it was the same. A tear slid down my cheek as I frantically searched for an escape route. Desperation fueled my actions as I rummaged through the kitchen, finding a heavy log. I swung it at the kitchen window which seemed to be my only escape passage. shatter it enough to climb through.
I jumped out, landing hard on the ground outside. Pain shot through me as I hit my stomach against the floor. For a moment, I lay there, groaning, trying to collect myself. When I finally stood, walking became a challenge. The fall had left me injured. I crawled to a nearby wall, using it for support as I steadied myself.
After resting for a while, I mustered enough strength to walk. With no clear destination, I followed the nearest path leading away from the house. I took out my phone and dialed Trina again, but the call went unanswered. As I continued, the path opened onto the expressway. The street stretched out before me, and I tried to flag down passing cabs, but none stopped.
My feet grew sore, and the pain became unbearable. Still, I pressed on. A beep on my phone drew my attention, and I stopped, hoping it was Trina. But instead, I read the contents of a message from an unknown number: “Stay exactly there and don’t move a bit, or you can’t imagine the danger that awaits you, I'll come to pick you soon. And don't be stubborn.”
Terror gripped me. I wanted to run, but my legs felt like they would betray me. Frozen in place, my mind raced. The once-refreshing breeze now felt suffocating.
Just then, I saw a familiar vehicle approaching. it was a cab, I stepped forward and signaled for it to stop. To my relief, it did, and I climbed into the passenger seat without hesitation.
“Drive,” I commanded, my voice shaky but firm. The driver obeyed. After a short distance, I noticed something familiar. Uneasy, I asked the driver to stop. He complied, then turned to face me. A large grin stretched across his face. And my fears were confirmed.
My heart dropped. I recognized him immediately. It was him. Who I thought it was.
I screamed for help, but my voice came out as a faint whisper. I tried again to scream but this time it was completely inaudible.
“You won’t get away so easily,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction, his grin widening as terror consumed me.