As light flashed,I looked around through the window and saw the road ahead. The streets were awkwardly silent no other car passing by.
To make sure I hadn't hit anything, I unfastened my seatbelt and stepped out of the car. My big brown eyes were wide, full of fear and uneasiness.
I'm in shock, I murmured .
"Don't worry, it's okay," I said gently, bending over. "You're safe… you can go home now."
The elk blinked, then slowly stood, still shivering. It looked at me, tilting its head. After a moment, it shook off the dirt violently, then turned and disappeared into the grass.
In the direction it vanished, I noticed a blue sign with white letters between the trees: Nature Park.
A few seconds later, I sighed in relief and headed back to her car.
Suddenly, the roar of a speeding sports car echoed behind me. A black Maserati. Its white headlights lit up the road so brightly I had to squint.
The car sped past me, and just as I was about to curse, it made a sharp turn, screeching to a halt in front of me.
The driver's door opened, and a man stepped out with a stormy expression just as fierce as the way he had driven.
It's him… the man from the bar, I whispered in shock. What the f**… I never thought he'd catch up.*
"Why do you want to escape?" he asked. His eyes were piercing as he stepped closer. I instinctively backed away until my body hit the side of my car.
"I said I don't know you!" I answered, my voice shaking.
The man sneered. His breath smelled of subtle whiskey and mint. He jerked his head down and pressed his face against mine. His tall, powerful frame surrounded me like a trap no space left to run.
"I won't let you go. Never." His voice was husky, filled with hunger and possession. Like I was his only prey.
He was hunting like a wolf. But why?
A sound came from the direction of the Maserati. I turned my head slightly, hoping someone might help me.
"Mark," the man said firmly, not taking his eyes off her. "Take her car. I'll drive myself to the hotel."
"Yes, Boss," another male voice responded obediently.
The man looked at me with a softened expression, his voice slightly muffled as he said,
"I don't push women unless I have to… I'm sorry."
Before I could make sense of his words, he took a step backand in a swift, shocking movement, he raised his hand and struck me hard across the right cheek.
The world went black.
God… I must have forgotten to curse this man.
Damn it.
When I came to consciousness, I was lying on a large bed draped in luxurious silk sheets. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, and above me, a delicate chandelier glowed with a gentle light. Everything around me looked… different. Foreign.
I swear, if I'm dead again after another rebirth, I'll scream.
But before panic could settle in, my gaze landed on him the same man, now seated on a nearby sofa, watching me like a hawk.
His oceanic blue-grey eyes gave nothing away, but the tension in his posture said it all.
I fainted.
He held a half-full glass of red wine, his hoarse voice cutting through the stillness.
"You're awake. I saw your name on your driver's license Rhea, right? You don't mind if I call you that?"
He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he took a long sip of the wine, swirling the glass with long fingers.
He had changed into a dark grey shirt, his hair damp and tousled as if freshly showered. Shadows lingered under his eyes, the kind of darkness that comes from things unspoken.
My gaze met his briefly and my heart did something it absolutely should not have done.
It skipped.
Damn it. Why is my heart racing?
He hit me. I should want to strangle him, not swoon.
I quickly looked away, inspecting myself instead.
Same clothes. No tears. No swelling. No pain.
At least he didn't change me. That's something.
I gently touched my cheek. It felt a little tender, but otherwise intact.
I guess he didn't do anything to my body…
As the man set his glass down on the nearby table, he stood and walked slowly toward the bedside. His tone was surprisingly apologetic.
"I'm sorry I brought you here. I mistook you for… one of my old acquaintances."
He paused, the pain in his voice slipping through even as he tried to hold it back. There was something raw about the way he said it, like speaking her name reopened an old wound.
I watched him carefully, sensing that this "acquaintance" had once meant something deeply personal.
He turned his back to me, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"I'll have someone take you home if you'd like."
"Of course I want to go home." I swung her legs over the edge of the bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet.
I stood, voice sharp.
"I don't want anyone taking me home. Meeting you was a mistake and this? This is kidnapping. If you knew who I was, you'd regret what you did tonight."
I didn't reveal my identity immediately, but in a place like SunCity, I didn't have to.
Everyone knew Damian Westwood, heir and ruler of the Westwood family one of the most powerful names in the city. Their family didn't just own wealth; they moved the economy.
Even if I hated my husband with a passion, I couldn't deny the weight his name carried.
The man tilted his head slightly, his blue-grey eyes glinting with interest.
"You know, the last person who threatened me like that… I threw him into the sea. Let the sharks handle him."
He took a slow step closer.
"Why don't you tell me who you are?"
I clenched my jaw. I was losing patience.
"Listen to me I'm Damian Westwood's wife."
I met his gaze head-on, fire behind my words.
"If you're planning anything, you better give up now."
He paused for a long moment, then slowly lifted his chin toward the ceiling as if the name tasted strange on his tongue.
"Damian Westwood?" he repeated, then again, quieter.
"Damian's wife…"
A faint smirk crept onto his lips.
"Interesting."
"You better let me go," I warned, crossing my arms.
"If my husband gets home and finds out I'm missing, he'll search the entire SunCity. Maybe he'll even kill you."
Of course, those were lies foolish ones.
Damian wouldn't come looking for me.
He was probably in bed right now, tangled with Ariella, moaning her name.
How ridiculous…
My husband is sleeping with my sister, and I'm stuck here with a complete stranger. They're enjoying themselves while I'm the one trembling.
I muttered under my breath, bitter amusement twisting my lips.
The man burst into laughter at my words. His smile made me feel like a complete fool.
Did he not believe me? Or did he really not know who Damian was?
"You know what," he said with a shrug, "if you were just an ordinary woman, I'd let you go. But if you're indeed Damian's wife... things would be different."
"What do you want?" I snapped, my brows furrowed.
"I want you to stay," he replied casually, as if they were discussing the weather.
"Why?"
I couldn't understand why my connection to Damian seemed to intrigue him rather than scare him off.
"Don't you want to know who I am?"
He circled me slowly, inhaling the scent of my hair. "Hmm… you smell nice."
"Who are you?" I asked, trembling now, a cold sense of foreboding creeping over me.
His voice dropped, low and menacing, as he leaned in. His mouth brushed my ear.
"My name is Alexander Ravenscort. Your husband's enemy. Do you understand?"
My heart skipped. Alexander Ravenscort.
The head of the Ravenscort family.
If I remembered correctly, they were the power behind the Circle of Titans. His family had been involved in the gas project merger and not only were they rivals to Damian, their feud stretched back to their great-grandparents.
Damn it.
If he doesn't kill me, then Damian will, I thought bitterly.
Spending the night with his enemy even if nothing happened was a death sentence in itself.
For the first time, I regretted my impulsiveness.
God, how I hated being Mrs. Westwood.