As she walked down the hallway of Fiala Ground, Naomi regretted it.
She regretted using the vice-principal's help, which seemed to have annoyed Damien even more.
It was as if the young master was taunting her: You want to use such a low-level connection to meet me? You'll still do what I want.
More than that, she regretted wearing something so light-colored.
Crimson seeped from the white fabric. It clung to her delicate fingers as she pressed her hand over her broken shoulder.
At least, she hoped it was just bruised, not broken.
But the ache thrumming through her veins told a different story.
I need to go to the hospital, she thought.
The cold tiles beneath her feet seemed to waver, shifting shapes, and expanding.
Her head swam from the high-intensity drink. She nearly knocked over a decorative vase on a small wooden stand.
"You are my daughter. You absolutely can't show your weakness in front of anyone. If they see it, they will use it to harm you. Understand?"
Her mother's words echoed in her mind, bringing a bit of sobriety.
All she wanted was to get away from this damned place and hide under her sheets.
Despite her best effort, her legs refused to obey. They trembled after barely a step.
I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of so many eyes...
If she did, it would reach her parents' ears, and the matter she'd been trying to bury would explode into something much bigger.
Even without asking, she was well aware of her father's priorities. It was his business.
If she was bowing only to Damien now, once the matter blew up, she'd have to apologize to the entire Rhodes family for 'damaging their reputation'.
Pressing her fingers deeper into her shoulder, she allowed the pain to shoot up.
The fear of being discovered only grew with ache, forcing her body to stumble further down the hallway.
Just then, she heard the distant voices.
"I've heard your boy is in St. Michael Academy, right? He is also the head of the student union. Emmett sure has D'Arden's blood running in his veins."
Another, older voice chimed in.
"Of course. My Emmett and Damien attend the same academy. They both are our pride."
The parents of the top two families, D'Arden and Rhodes, were being flattered by a group of sycophants.
Ignoring the blaring red 'No Entry' sign, Naomi turned the nearest corner and stepped forward on shaky heels.
When those voices neared, something snapped inside her. All the humiliation she had suffered seemed to surface again, threatening to drown her.
In desperation, she grabbed at door handles, yanking each one.
All were closed.
But there was an old saying. When God closed all the doors, he left a window open.
Such was the case for Naomi when she turned the handles of a pair of grand, dark doors carved with gold.
Without sparing a glance at the magnificent carvings, she dragged herself inside and shut the doors behind her.
The world instantly quieted down.
As she took a deep breath, a hint of something dark and woody hit her nostrils.
This smell... She'd smelled it before. But under the haze of alcohol and pain, her mind refused to work properly.
She slid down on the carpeted ground with her back resting against the same doors.
Her breathing came out ragged.
The phone in her handbag was nothing but a useless brick. There was no one she could call for help.
Should I wait here for a bit longer? Maybe until my head stops spinning?
Her thoughts shattered when something metallic clattered against the solid surface.
Albeit misty, her dark eyes instantly shot up, scrutinizing the figure standing at the opposite side.
He was tall, very tall.
Dressed in black jeans paired with a leather jacket, the man commanded attention, like an inky dribble on white paper.
"I've seen drugged people climb into my bed before, but you're the first who came both drugged and bleeding." A cold, magnetic voice echoed in the room.
"What is it now, a medical scam?"
Naomi shook her head, wincing as pain flared through her shoulder.
"I'm not," she rasped, trying not to wince again. "Let me hide here for a bit. I'll pay you back."
Slow footsteps echoed, and a shadow fell over her. It swallowed her small frame entirely.
Someone pinched her chin, forcing her to raise her head.
From such a close distance, Naomi could finally see him.
Sharp eyebrows were squeezed together in a furrow. A red mole under the right eye glowed in the shadow, mimicking the trickles of blood seeping from her skin.
Messy black hair and lips pressed into a thin line gave him an ever-present fierceness.
However, what caught her attention was the pair of deep gray eyes scanning her face inch by inch.
They looked almost black with how dark they were.
A dangerously handsome man, with an aura like a wild wolf ready to sink its fangs the moment she made a wrong move.
"Please," she tried again, licking her dry lips. "I mean no harm. I just need some time to get over the dizziness."
The drunken mind was slow, but she hadn't turned into a fool just yet.
This hidden room in Fiala Ground could belong to only one family — the Kings, owners of the entire estate.
Judging by his age and sharp features, a paragraph from an online article surfaced in her mind.
[If there were a competition of being ruthless and still being so handsome, the winner would be the current heir of the King's, Killian Rhett King.]
Despite being only twenty-six, he was the sole reason the King family had risen to the top of the billionaires' list with a margin that left the second and third places miles apart.
And according to the plot of the novel, this person was the sole villain who made Damien run for his money, only to die in a plane crash.
Naomi was glad it was Killian.
Throughout the entire storyline, there had been no women around him.
The intimidating, yet meticulous, Killian cared only for his work — which made it impossible for Damien, the male lead, to find any of his weak spots.
At least this way, Naomi was confident she wouldn't be harmed if she stayed here.