Chapter 11 Before I Could Be In His Trap Again
KARA’S POV
I don’t tell Sancha and Louisse where I really was that night. They only know the version I allow them to hear. The safer one and the one that doesn’t come with questions I’m not ready to answer.
“I got home late,” I tell them casually while we’re gathered around the small table in the pastry, pretending to scroll through my phone. “Dad got mad.”
Sancha immediately groans.
“Again? Girl, your dad needs to chill… To think that you’re 22 already, when will he stop acting like he’s babysitting a kid?”
I force a laugh, but my chest tightens as the memory resurfaces.
Dad standing in the living room, arms crossed, and disappointment heavier than anger was evident in his eyes. He was asking me where I’d been and asking again, and again. His voice growing tired instead of louder, until eventually he just sighed and walked away.
I know he was just worried.
“He kept asking me where I went,” I continue softly. “Even when I didn’t answer. He just… gave up.”
Louisse pauses mid-sip of her drink and speaks.
“That’s worse,” she says quietly. “That means he was really hurt.”
I nod, swallowing hard. He’s been so overprotective to the point that I had to ditch in order to do what I really want, but I love Daddy more than my life.
He’s the only one I have right now.
“Yeah. But at least he didn’t push anymore.”
Relief and guilt twist together inside me. Relief that he stopped asking, and guilt that I let him.
Later that day, we get invited out by our Hiring Managers ans it’s a night-out.
“No. I’m not going.” I immediately shake my head.
Sancha’s eyes light up instantly and pulls me.
“That’s exactly why you should go.”
Alei grins, one of the interns from other university.
“We want to see you drunk, Kara!”
“Yeah, please?” it’s Savanna.
“I’m cornered,” I said while raising my two hands as if I’m surrendering.
“That’s the point,” Savann laughs. “Character development.”
“She’s a party girl, don’t worry about her, we have seen her get drunk wildly a couple of times!” Sancha butts in that made me stare at her sharply.
She only laughs together with Sancha, Savanna, at Alei.
I resist at first, but they don’t let up. By the time they start listing reasons like team bonding, stress relief, and free drinks, that’s when I’m already losing.
“Fine,” I sigh. “But if I embarrass myself, I’m blaming both of you.”
We’re already laughing when the door opens later that evening. We stopped and got dumfounded of the drop-gorgeous man who entered inside. He walks in with confidence like he owns the world by just his charm and charisma.
Mr. Stewheinz.
He looks relaxed, jacket slung over one shoulder, and that familiar confidence trailing behind him like he owns the room.
My smile freezes.
“Well,” he says, looking around, amused. “I feel offended.”
Sancha gasps dramatically.
“Sir! You weren’t informed?”
He shakes his head.
“Not even a hint. A night-out without me?” He presses a hand to his chest. “That hurts.”
Everyone laughs, except for me. Because suddenly I’m very aware of my heartbeat. Of how the room feels smaller and of how his eyes flick briefly in my direction before looking away.
When it’s time to change, Sancha and Louisse are practically bouncing.
“Omg, tonight’s the night,” Sancha says, already digging through her makeup kit. “Full glam.”
Louisse squeals.
“Kara, wear the black dress. The one that makes you look mysterious.”
I hesitate, staring at myself in the mirror. The only thing looping in my mind is one fact I can’t escape. It’s the fact that I’m going to be in the same circle as him.
And he’s going to be there.
Earlier that morning, he didn’t even come to work. I hear it from the staff while organizing files that he was with his girlfriend.
The words land heavier than I expect. I stared at the blank wall, but something inside my chest pinches.
“Don’t overthink it. I heard a lot of pretty women are linked to him anyway.” I whispered to myself.
That helps even just a little, because it reminds me of the truth that I keep forgetting.
Whatever I felt…
Whatever happened…
I’m not the only possibility.
And maybe that’s exactly why my chest hurts, and why part of me is relieved all at once.
The moment we step into the clubhouse, the air changes. Lights pulse in shades of violet and gold, music thumping straight through my chest, and the bass is heavy enough to blur thoughts. The place smells like alcohol, perfume, and something reckless. Laughter collides with noise and bodies brushing past each other like none of us are strangers here.
Sancha is the first to lose it.
“Oh my God, this is really my place,” she shouts over the music, already dragging Louisse towards the bar.
Louisse laughs, hair bouncing as she raises both hands in surrender.
“Shots first! Regrets later!”
Alei and Savanna follow, instantly striking conversations with people they don’t even know, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Within minutes, drinks are ordered, glasses clink, and my girls are glowing. Their eyes are bright, movements loose, and voices are louder than usual.
I trail behind them, smiling but guarded, and my senses became overloaded.
“Tequila for Kara!” Sancha announces triumphantly, sliding a small glass toward me.
I stare at it.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Just a little character development, remember?” She grins wickedly.
I sigh and lift the glass.
“If I die, I’ll haunt you witch!”
I down it.
The burn hits fast, sharp and warm, curling its way into my chest. I cough slightly, blinking as the world softens around the edges.
“Atta girl!” Louisse cheers.
I reach for the slice of lime, grounding myself as the alcohol settles in my veins. I’m halfway through my second drink when I feel it.
That presence. The space beside me shifts, the air suddenly warmer, and got heavier. I don’t need to look to know.
But I do anyway.
Mr. Stewheinz sits beside me, close enough that our arms almost touch. He’s relaxed, one elbow resting on the counter, sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms full of tattoes. He turns his head, eyes meeting mine, and smiles.
Not formal…
Not distant…
“Kara,” he says smoothly. “Rough day?”
“You could say that, sir.” I swallow.
He chuckles softly.
“Work?”
“And… everything else,” I admit before I can stop myself.
His gaze lingers, studying me like he’s reading between lines I didn’t mean to write.
“Drink?” he asks, lifting his glass slightly.
I nod, taking another sip of tequila, the courage, or stupidity of it all buzzing under my skin. He starts casual asking about my tasks, my internship, and how I’m adjusting. But somewhere between my third sip and his quiet laugh, the tone shifts.
It became subtle and dangerous.
“You look different tonight,” he says, eyes flicking downward for a second too long.
I follow his gaze before I realize what he’s looking at.
It’s my legs.
Heat blooms instantly, sharp and uninvited, curling low in my stomach. I shift slightly, suddenly too aware of how short my dress feels and how exposed I am sitting this way.
“You’re staring,” I say quietly, trying to sound firm.
He doesn’t deny it.
“Hard not to,” he replies, voice lower now. “You clean up beautifully.”
And at that certain moment, my pulse stutters. I tell myself to resist and to pull back. Miss Salvador’s words flash through my mind like a warning sign I’m choosing to ignore.
Don’t fall into his trap…
I set my glass down, inhaling slowly.
“Sir—”
“Kara,” he corrects gently. “Relax. We’re just talking.”
His knee shifts, brushing mine accidentally, or maybe not. The contact sends a jolt straight through me and my breath hitching despite myself. He leans closer, close enough that I can smell his expensive perfume, and feel the warmth of his body cutting through the cool air.
“I like you like this,” he murmurs. “Looser and honest.”
My heart pounds painfully against my ribs.
This is bad…
This is exactly what I was warned about…
Before he can move closer and before his hand can drift anywhere it shouldn’t, I stand abruptly.
“I need some air,” I say quickly, already stepping back. “Excuse me, sir.”
He looks surprised as his brows lifts slightly.
“Kara—”
“I’ll be right back,” I lie, forcing a smile before turning away.
I push through the crowd, my chest tight, and lungs aching as I step outside the club. The cool night air hits me instantly, sobering and sharp, filling my
lungs like a wake-up call. I rest my hands on the railing, staring out into the dark, and heartbeat still racing.
I close my eyes, because if I stayed one second longer, I’m not sure if I would’ve walked away.