OLEANDER
Dante dragged me out of the hospital, shoved me into the room, and forced me into a ridiculously short black dress dusted with tiny star-like specks.
Now, I was at some kind of summit.
Men made up most of the attendees, with a few women as the maids.
I had no idea why I was even here.
Dante had mumbled something earlier about not trusting me not to run, and he didn’t trust Celina enough to keep an eye on me either.
Hence, he brought me along.
“Wait here.”
I turned to Hex, currently the one Dante had put in charge of me.
I frowned at him as he observed the room.
The space looked like a living room, though it was too loud due to the music playing in the background and the noisy chatter from people, and it was actually underfurnished, so it didn’t feel like one.
There were too many picture frames lining the walls, and in them were men in black tuxedos.
I was almost sure I saw Dante in one of them.
Or at least someone who looked exactly like him.
“What am I supposed to do here?” I asked.
Hex didn’t answer right away.
He kept scanning the room like he was still trying to convince himself he shouldn’t be in it.
When he finally gave up on that internal battle, he looked at me.
“Don’t leave this room,” he said flatly.
“Why?” I pressed.
He ignored the question again and turned to leave.
I instinctively grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
His gaze turned sharp, and I immediately let go, flushing with embarrassment.
“Sorry,” I muttered, shifting on my feet.
“I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here. I can’t remember anything from before, and I feel like I’m missing something, like a lot of things—and—”
“You’re not missing anything,” he cut in.
His voice was low and dismissive.
“Just stay in the room. You’ll be fine.”
He turned again, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked away.
Right before he reached the door, he paused, still facing forward.
“If anything weird happens, yell for me.”
Then he left.
I groaned, glaring at the spot Hex had stood moments ago.
He was too cold.
I thought he’d been looking out for me back at the hospital, but now, I wasn’t so sure.
Glancing around the room, I tried to figure out what to do.
There weren’t many people here, but even so, I couldn’t just walk up to someone and start a conversation.
I’d never been good at that.
It was too dark, too quiet—eerily so.
This whole place gave off a strange, unsettling vibe I couldn’t quite place.
And I doubted anyone would bother explaining it to me, even if I asked.
I spotted an empty chair in the corner and began making my way toward it, only to stop when a hand touched my shoulder.
“Hyacinth?”
I turned swiftly.
The man in front of me was middle-aged and striking, with slicked-back black hair, eyes like polished obsidian, and a scar that ran from just below his eye to the corner of his mouth.
His eyes widened the moment they met mine.
“Um,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“I think you’ve got the wrong person.”
“You’re not Hyacinth?” he asked again.
I shook my head.
Still, I saw the doubt flash across his face as he gave me a slow, thorough once-over.
Then he stepped closer, sniffing the air around me like it was something he did regularly.
I frowned, confused, and took a step back.
Creepy.
“Hyacinth Rosewood,” he murmured.
For a few moments, he just stared.
Then he shook his head.
“I’m sorry. That was rude. And you’re right, I’ve got the wrong person.”
He gave a polite smile.
I returned it and turned away, heading to the empty chair.
As I sat down, I glanced back to where he’d been standing.
He was gone.
“That’s weird,” I muttered, shifting in the seat.
“What would you like to have, ma’am?” a server asked, balancing a tray of wine glasses.
“Water, please,” I murmured.
“Coming right up,” she replied with a warm smile before briskly heading off toward what I assumed was the kitchen.
She returned moments later with a plastic bottle of water and a cup.
She opened it and poured, then handed it to me.
I thanked her and lifted the cup, gulping the liquid until it burned all the way down.
I winced, clutching my throat as I stared at the cup.
“What is in this?” I whispered, bringing it to my nose.
“Water, ma’am,” the server replied.
Water shouldn’t burn.
This tasted nothing like water, more like vinegar mixed with lemon.
Sharp, sour, and tangy.
My stomach twisted, nausea rising fast.
I forced it down and brought the cup back to my lips to taste again, just to confirm.
Before I could, it was snatched from my hand and hurled into the wall, shattering on impact.
I flinched.
My heart leapt into my throat as I looked up and met Hex’s eyes.
He gave me only a glance before turning on the server.
He gripped her collar and yanked her close, lifting her to eye level.
“If something happens to her, I’ll find you and kill you,” he growled, then shoved her into the nearest chair.
The server gasped, fear etched across her face.
I didn’t understand what was happening; I didn’t even get the chance to ask.
Hex yanked me out of the chair and dragged me from the room without a word.
It wasn’t until we were in the car that I finally found my voice.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, wiping sweat from my forehead.
“Drive,” Hex barked at the driver.
“I feel hot,” I murmured, fanning my face.
The AC was blasting, but it didn’t help.
My gut twisted violently, my vision blurred, and nausea surged up my throat.
This time, I couldn’t swallow it back.
I grabbed Hex’s arm, tugging weakly.
“I’m going to throw up…!”
A paper bag appeared in front of me just in time, and I emptied every bit of food I’d eaten in the past twenty-four hours into it.
My stomach cramped with each heave, sweat pouring from every inch of my body.
“What’s happening to me?” I groaned, clutching my belly.
“You shouldn’t have drunk anything there,” Hex grunted.
I shot him a glare despite the stabbing pain in my gut.
“Would’ve been nice if someone warned me.”
He didn’t respond right away, just exhaled sharply.
“Hold on. We’re a few minutes from home. Doctor Cameron will check you—”
His words cut off as something slammed into the car with a deafening crunch.
The vehicle skidded violently.
My head snapped to the side, smashing against the window.
Pain exploded through my skull, and my vision blurred.
I blinked rapidly, trying to stay conscious.
“What the hell was that?” Hex snarled.
“I think I hit something, sir,” the driver, Roy, answered, far too calm for my liking.