DEVAN
This woman’s fearlessness is unmatched.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s coming from the vodka or not.
Even after I’ve revealed the fact that I kidnap people on normal days, she still wants me to take her.
It’s not that my full time job is kidnapping people, but that’s also not something to put past me.
In my world, it’s very normal, especially when someone tries to double cross me, or when I want to get information out of someone who’s not cooperating.
“Like I said, I’ll pass on that offer,” I repeat my stand.
“Your loss,” she shrugs, like I’m missing out on a great opportunity.
Well, maybe I am…missing an opportunity to get to know her better, to see the real her, on the outside and inside.
Maybe find out why she would choose to drink in the cemetery at this time of the night.
“I’ll be waiting on the other side,” I tell her.
“Waiting for who? And waiting to do what exactly?” She asks, then points a finger at me.
“If you’re not going to kidnap me, just go home. Someone else will do it.”
That’s got to be the most hilarious thing I’ve heard today.
But again, I wouldn’t want someone else to do it, because they won’t be as nice as I am.
Maybe I care because of what today is, or it’s just that I feel like we’re two strangers capable of understanding each other.
Nevertheless, I walk away without uttering another word
The last thing I hear her say is, “see, mother? Men are so weird and complicated.” I smile, walking towards my car.
I deliberately parked in front of a Mercedes that probably belongs to her.
I wait outside my car, scrolling through my phone, looking for more dealers.
….
It takes a while before she comes rushing, still holding her bottle.
“Who the hell parks like this?” She asks in an annoyed tone.
“Which driving school did you go to?”
“Actually, I didn’t. Are you done, so we can leave now?” I respond.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she snorts.
“Okay,” I smirk.
I thought she would say that, which is why I deflated her back tires.
Is that diabolical?
Yes.
I never claimed to be a saint.
But again, it isn’t purely diabolical if I did it to help.
She’s clearly not in a position to drive and had made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with me, if I wasn’t going to kidnap her, which, again, on any other day would have been a piece of cake.
I don’t get into my car when she blows me off.
I lean against it as I wait for the inevitable.
She gets into her car and bangs the door.
Whatever must have angered her tonight deserves a medal.
She stays in the car for a while, and then the next thing I hear is a long round of hooting.
She wants me to get out of the way.
I don’t flinch.
After a few seconds, I see her reverse, which also doesn’t take long.
And there goes my moment…
She immediately stops and gets out to assess the problem.
The next thing I see is a woman angrily kicking tires.
I should offer help immediately, but I don’t.
I wait for her to come to me, because now she doesn’t have a choice.
Her hands fly to her waist as she stares in my direction.
I’m not sure if she suspects me, but now I’m minding my business.
She then approaches slowly.
“I’d like to take you up on the offer,” she says, calmly.
I slide my phone back to my pocket.
“What if I told you, that offer expired two seconds ago?” I smirk.
“Okay,” she shrugs.
“Since you want to play it that way. I’ll just walk home,” She turns to walk away.
Oh my goodness.
Her relentlessness is such a turn on.
I can’t believe I’m about to do this.
I hope no one is recording this.
Silly thought…
“Wait,” I call her out.
She suddenly stops and can I picture her smiling.
I fell right into that one.
She turns around.
“What?”
“Come on, don’t make me say it again,” It’s already a stretch that I’m doing this for a stranger.
“Your address?” I probe.
She walks towards me, and when she’s close enough, I get to see her fallen expression.
“I don’t want to go home. Take me anywhere, just not home.”
She settles on the back seat, claiming to need a lot of rest.
_________________
The only place I could think of was the Galloway Mansion.
My stranger fell asleep a few minutes after I started the engine.
When I stop the car, I give her a glance.
She looks so calm with her eyes closed.
I’m still curious about who made her day or night this rough.
Disturbing her feels like a crime.
I debate with myself on whether I should wake her up, or just carry her to sleep.
The latter wins.
I’m not sure if she blacked out from too much drinking, or she just slept because she’s tired.
I slowly lift her and proceed into the mansion.
I should take her to one of the many rooms in the house, but clearly, I’m riding in a train of insanity.
So, where exactly do I take her?
My bedroom.
For some reason, it feels like she’ll be safe in my bedroom.
Why I’m suddenly feeling overprotective, I have no idea.
This is so strange of me.
I don’t know who this woman is.
Not even her name.
And now, I’m taking care of her like we’ve been close for years.
Since when do other people’s personal issues matter to me like this?
When I place her on the bed and cover her well, I take a few more seconds just staring at her.
Did I mention how beautiful she is?
I have so many questions about her.
But for now, the fact that she’s calm and safe is enough.
I take a picture of her and I head out of the room.
I check on my mother first, before I head to my office.
It’s also been a rough day for her.
I find she’s already asleep, but with a portrait of my father next to her.
It’s a sad thing to see, and it breaks my heart.
There’s nothing I can do now, other than let her rest.
Somehow, that has become my job description today.
Letting women rest after a rough day.
When I get to my home office, I order one of my men to wake Matias up.
Turns out my best friend isn’t happy about being woken up in the middle of the night, which makes me wonder if we’re in the same world.
He walks into my office groaning.
“If you wanted to have sex with me, you could have come home earlier.”
“Uhm…” I squint my eyes.
He is aware that I’m straight, but he enjoys making jokes about me being in love with him.
“I’d rather die of dry spell,” I say.
“What do you want?” He asks.
I take my phone and send him a picture of the stranger in my room.
“Oh, wow!” He gushes, staring at his screen.
“You’re into women now? Who’s this beauty?”
“That beauty is off limits,” I warn.
“Yet you sent me her photo.”
“Because I want you to look into her, knucklehead.”
“Oh,” his face brightens up.
“Are you in love with her?” He raises his brows.
“Matias Brady! Don’t make me shoot your head right now.”
“Are you giving into the pressure? Is she the one you’ve chosen to marry?” He probes.
“If another question comes out of that mouth, I’ll staple your lips together.”
Though, to be fair, I don’t know why I’m so curious about her.
“Okay,” he raises his hands.
“I need answers before morning.”
He gets up from his seat.
As he walks away, I call him back.
“And, Matais,” he turns around with raised brows.
“Start with Ivanna Miller. She’s related to Ivanna Miller.”