Chapter 5

Matthew was at crossroads. Not for the first time in his life but the indecision he felt in this situation cut deep as no other had.

Two choices, each of them equally viable. One, leave the woman and turn around. If what Karly had said was true, then this woman would be his bride soon. So why interfere? He should just bid the couple good-bye and be on his merry way.

The other option, he felt, would shake him to the very core. Would be a rejection of who he was, at least who he thought he was, and an embracing of another entirely different person. One he did not want to acknowledge but one that would make his mother proud.

Save the woman. Save a woman. Like his mother had saved him.

Matthew looked at the woman as she clutched the pieces of her sweater and dignity and thought that finally, he could understand what had driven his mom to save him as she did. No human deserved to be treated like this. Not even an animal deserved to be degraded in such a manner.

And with that thought motivating and fuelling him, Matthew did something he had never done before. He touched a woman.

No, not directly. That would have been too much to handle, even in his crazed state of mind. His palm encircled a sweater-covering portion of her wrist and using enough force, he pulled her up.

Her eyes shone with gratitude and a little hope.

Samuel Karly seemed to pick up on Matthew's mood and took a step forward. "Thank you, Mr. Devin. Now, return her to me." He stretched a hand towards the pair. "Hand her over."

The woman began to tremble at that. She shook her head again, staining her face with even more tears.

Matthew turned to Karly, restraining the urge to kill the man. "I'm taking her with me," he said, his voice capable of freezing water. "And it will be for the best if you forget about this woman because she will stay with me."

All of Samuel Karly's false politeness peeled away and revealed the ugly, vulgar man beneath. "Do not involve yourself in something that does not concern you, little boy. That woman belongs to me. It matters not if she whimpers or cries, she is mine. Her breasts, her thighs; they are all mine to play and toy with. So, you best be on your way, Devin."

Matthew's hand clenched tighter around the woman's wrist in anger. What a dirty beast.

"I would never have imagined it simply by looking, that someone like you, Karly, would be speaking so freely of rape and sexual assault. I wonder what the police have to say about that," Matthew said, his jaw tight.

Karly laughed. A loud, haughty laugh. "The police? The police cannot do anything to me. Much less, because of the accusation of an unemployed wench. You must be stupid to say or even think that. Hand the woman over, Devin. You have no say in this matter."

Matthew smiled a very nasty smile. "You might be right in saying that the police would dismiss this woman's claims. But what about mine? What do you think would happen if I were to accuse you in her stead? Do you think your fleeting business will survive? Do you think you will survive? I'll ask you not to underestimate me, Karly. There is a reason, you'll do well not to forget, why we are on different sides of the billionaire equation."

Silence.

Matthew watched as Karly swelled up with rage, his eyes full of wrath. Which was expected. He had just insulted the man and reminded him of his inferior financial state.

"Y-you stupid boy," Karly spat. "Do you think you can talk to me like that, you-you fool?! I'll make you pay for this." He turned his attention to Miranda, wagging a finger at her. "You ugly, worthless bitch. I was doing your family a favour by taking you as my bride but you dare embarrass me like this. You and your family will pay dearly for this. You will pay."

With that, he took off. Storming past them and out of the hallway.

Miranda watched him go, fighting an urge to run after him and try to salvage the situation. After all, Samuel Karly was her and her family's hope. But as her gaze followed the man out of the restaurant, Miranda felt a strange feeling bubble up inside her.

Freedom. She was free.

Homeless and just escaped rape but she was free.

She turned to the man who had saved her. The man she had met when she mistakenly entered the wrong dining room. Mr. Devin, he was called.

"Thank you very much, sir. You saved my life. Thank you."

He flinched and quickly let go of her hand, immediately putting distance between them. The cold, unfriendly look he had on the first time she saw him returned. His expression would have made him completely unapproachable to anyone who passed him on the street but this seemingly aloof man had just saved her from being violently raped.

Miranda bowed deeply, still holding the shreds of her sweater close. She held the bow for a few seconds before straightening once more.

"Thank you," she repeated.

Matthew's expression changed subtly, becoming a little less cold. He averted his eyes and said in a low tone, "It's fine. I'll be on my way."

He walked past her and was at the end of the hallway before he stopped. With quick and somewhat rigid movements, he removed his suit jacket and held it towards her.

"Here. Cover yourself up."

Miranda extended a hand and grasped the jacket, her heart warm. "Thank you."

Matthew raised a hand slightly to acknowledge her and walked away.

Miranda held the jacket to her chest, the fabric crumpling softly in her hands. It was a painful thing to say but his gesture was one of the kindest things a person had ever done for her. Far, far kinder than her family had ever been to her.

It was enough to make her heart bleed and for tears to once again make their journey down her cheeks. Sniffing, she placed the jacket around her shoulders and put her hands in the too-large sleeves. The jacket dropped to her thighs, billowing around her like a coat.

Miranda stood in the hallway, looking around and trying to convince herself that what she just experienced was real and not some figment of her imagination.

She rubbed her arms and walked out of the hallway and past the restaurant's reception. She ignored the strange looks she got from the diners and walked out of the restaurant. She did not have to wonder why they were staring at her in such a manner.

An over-large suit on faded, worn-out jeans? In a posh restaurant? Yes, she failed the fashion check. But as she stepped out of the restaurant and into the cold evening air, her fashion sense –or lack of it– was the least of her concerns.

Miranda was now homeless. And that was a fact. There was no go-back-to-your-family-and-see-if-they-will-accept-you going on here.

If she returned, she was certain that she would be severely beaten and, remembering the anger and desperation in her father's eyes, killed.

So, she was homeless. No money and no family. Free but alone.

Miranda turned to the left and right, trying to decide which way she should head and what she should do next. Her immediate concern was where to spend the night. The money left over from her taxi fare was a little over ten dollars.

It was barely enough for a meal, much less for a stay in a motel. Her best bet would be to head to the all-night café where she worked and hoped the manager was kind enough to let her crash there for the night.

She did not speak much to the other staff and the manager himself but she reasoned that her years of work and diligence would move him to accommodate her for the night. Maybe she was being optimistic but there was nowhere else she could go.

Hopefully in the morning, she would have an idea what to do with the shambles her life had become.

Miranda turned to the left and walked slowly back the way she came, to the nearest bus stop. As she walked, the buildings became less refined and less expensive-looking. The cobbled stones, green lawns, and high gates turning to rough tar and short fences.

She was heading out of the wealthy part of town and the bus stop was at the very end. She arrived at the bus stop and sat on the bench with an exhausted sigh. It had been a long walk.

The journey had not looked so long on her way to the restaurant but that was probably because she was sitting in the back of a taxi and not walking.

Then there was the fact that she had not eaten before she left home and had barely taken a bite in the restaurant before Karly decided he wanted to take a bite out of her.

Out of nowhere, the feeling of his hands creeping up between her thighs, under her sweater, and squeezing her in whatever way he liked filled her mind and nausea tore through her gut.

Miranda shivered uncontrollably, her entire body shaking with the force of her self-disgust. She wrapped the jacket closer to her and focused on the deep woody scent coming off the soft fabric. Fighting back another round of tears, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the man who had saved her.

The billionaire, Mr. Devin.

Miranda recalled in sharp detail the look on his face as he took in her appearance. The horror, pain, anger, and then pity transforming his handsome features.

He had not seemed like it but he was a compassionate man. The way his eyes darkened with anger and pain at what Samuel Karly had done to her. Yes, he was a compassionate man.

She wished sorely that she could see him again. Wished that she could do more to express her thanks for his intervention. Wished he was here so that she could feel safe again.

They say speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The sounds of footsteps on the pavement of the bus stop told her someone had joined her under the canopy. Miranda raised her head and was met with the sight of the man who filled her thoughts.

Matthew Devin.