Chapter 10 Someone dear to me
Survival was a skill Karen had never needed to learn, as she had never been in danger before.
This was the first time she found herself in such a situation, all because she had strayed from her usual safe environment.
Roger was a bodyguard, and she knew that these three men were no match for him.
She had witnessed Roger effortlessly handle tough situations, wiping out any trace of trouble and effortlessly neutralizing threats before, which only heightened her admiration for him.
However, her phone was now dead. If only she hadn't used it to review the software instructions, she could have swallowed her pride and called for help.
"Please, I'm begging you. My husband is a very dangerous man," she hinted, trying to manipulate the situation in any way she could.
“Is she married?" one of them asked, confusion evident on their faces, deepening the problem.
"I told you she's not a child."
Regret washed over Karen as all but one of them reached for a pillow. "If you were truly married, you wouldn't be here alone."
A humorless chuckle escaped Karen, tinged with self-deprecation. It seemed that no one, not even her parents, Roger, or these thugs, believed a word she said.
She was certain that if Roger were to burst in and rescue her, she would comply with his demands out of gratitude. However, this was not a movie where the hero swooped in to save the damsel from danger.
This was reality, and she was on her own. Roger hadn't even bothered to chase after her when she left, highlighting her lack of importance to him.
“You won't gain anything from taking my life," she said in a tear-filled voice, but the one who had shown pity before spoke up.
"Well, we've been paid well to take care of you. I'll make it painless for you. Just lay down like a good girl, and we'll be done with it."
Paid? The revelation stung, though she faintly guessed who was behind it. "Who paid you? Please, at least let me know," she pleaded, but received no response.
"Enough bickering. We can use the knife or the gun, and both will be quite painful."
She smiled painfully, realizing that defending herself against three men would be futile.
Karen lay vulnerably on the bed, her eyes closed. Not everyone deserved justice, and she was certain her death would benefit the world since they didn't want her in it.
No matter how mentally prepared she was, the sound of approaching footsteps caused her fears to rise like the heat of the sun.
When the movement stopped, she braced herself to feel the pillow on her face, but it didn’t happen immediately.
Her eyes flew open just in time to witness the man dropping the pillow on the bed. “This doesn’t feel right. She’s too young and naive,” he remarked.
Any hope she had of divine intervention was short-lived as another person picked up the pillow.
“Boss, I’ve already spent my share of the money. We need the rest,” they demanded.
Her hope shattered when, without warning, the pillow was pressed against her face, depriving her of breath.
It felt as though the air was being sucked out of her lungs as she struggled in vain, the voices around her fading as she slipped into unconsciousness—or was it death?
Suddenly, a rush of air filled her lungs as she felt warm lips on hers but it was far from a pleasurable kiss.
This was a kiss of life and her life was hanging on the warm air filling her lungs from the force. Her eyes snapped open, and she jolted awake, feeling as if she had been pulled from drowning in an ocean.
However, a different man was sitting beside her, trying to revive her.
Shame was far from her when she noticed the towel she had used to cover herself lying pitifully on the floor, but she still felt covered.
As her consciousness cleared after violent coughs and her surroundings became clearer, she caught a whiff of the white jacket covering her mid-section. The three men were lying lifelessly on the floor.
The soft fabric felt luxurious against her skin, and she could sense its quality even from the fragrance it emitted. "God, I thought I lost you," a deep voice said, causing her heart to leap for a moment. Could it be Roger?
The eyes were his, but the face was different. This man was elegant, with a few strands of silver hair beautifully scattered among his jet-black hair. His voice was intimidating yet smooth, like an expensive wine.
His impeccable looks exuded peril, dressed head to toe in black Prada designer wear.
He was so attractive that she found it hard to look away, but he also emanated a sense of danger.
His cold eyes and calculated movements terrified her. "Please, I have nothing. Don't kill me," she pleaded.
The man's gaze softened. "It wasn't difficult to find you. If I had arrived a second later, you wouldn't have survived."
His deep, silky voice had a soothing quality, giving off an aura of paternal care that left her puzzled.
"Who are you, and why did you save me?" she asked, sensing a familiarity in him that reminded her of Roger, yet he didn't seem like a threat.
“Call me Van. I received your file today, so consider yourself lucky," he said as he stood up and tossed her jeans and blouse towards her, turning his back. "Get dressed, and I'll get you out of here."
Karen, feeling disoriented, quickly put on her clothes as her head throbbed with a headache. "What are you talking about?" she asked.
Why did he refer to her as a file, as if she were some kind of commodity? The situation was becoming increasingly terrifying, and as she stood up after putting on her blouse and was about to zip her pants, she lost her balance and fell back onto the bed.
Van turned around and gazed at her. "Someone dear to me forced me to help you," he explained, leaving Karen's mind in a state of confusion. "Who is that person?"
There was a fleeting expression in his eyes, but it quickly vanished. However, the memory of how he had saved her reminded her of the times Roger had saved Tonia and her.
“I can't tell you until the time is right, and you can't hide from Roger on your own," he said, Karen stiffened at the mention of Roger. She had already considered that and only one thing came to mind.
The lessons Dexter had taught her were fresh in her mind, as if he were sitting across from her.
"What do you want?" Karen asked. He lips thinned but his expression was rather hard, far from a smile. "This place stinks. Let's talk somewhere else."