"No, it was not like this before," the man called Taurus said calmly, crouching slightly beside the car. He stretched out his hand and pointed at a long streak of mud smeared across the glossy body of the vehicle. "This stain was not here earlier. And even though it is raining, we did not pass through mud. Someone definitely did this."
The playboy stepped closer, his face tightening as his eyes followed Taurus's finger. His gaze moved slowly over the scratch, the broken mirror, the dirt like he was inspecting a wounded living thing.
"Arrrgh," he suddenly screamed, clutching his head in frustration. "You are right, Taurus. You are absolutely right. Someone did this to my baby."
My stomach dropped at the word baby.
"I need you to look for the person that did this," he continued angrily. "She looked strong just moments ago."
Strong.
The word echoed in my head like a curse.
Immediately, Taurus straightened up and began running his eyes around the area, turning left and right, scanning every corner, every shadow, every person nearby.
That was when fear truly wrapped its fingers around my throat.
This was not how it was supposed to go. Everything was spiraling out of control. I had no money. I could not pay for repairs on a car like that. I was soaked, bruised, dressed like a maid, and I was the only one standing around looking guilty without even trying to.
I had stayed earlier because I thought leaving would make me suspicious. But now staying felt like the worst decision of my life.
This was the moment to run.
I slowly shifted my weight, trying to turn away casually. I stepped left, then hesitated, then stepped right again, my heart beating so loudly I was sure they could hear it. I did not even know where I was running to. I just knew I had to get away.
Then his voice rang out again.
"Look," he said sharply. "Someone's shoe. Just like you said. Someone really did this to my baby."
My breath left my body.
He bent down and picked up the shoe carefully using a handkerchief, as if it were evidence from a crime scene. He straightened up and looked around slowly.
Then his eyes landed on me.
"You," he said, lifting his hand and pointing directly at me. "Come here."
My legs felt weak.
What do I do now? I panicked. Why does everything I touch turn into chaos? Why does my bad energy always ruin things?
I knew he was talking to me. I knew pretending not to hear him would only make it worse. Still, fear pushed me forward and I broke into a run.
I did not get far.
He was unbelievably fast. In seconds, his hand closed around my arm and yanked me back. I stumbled, lost my balance, and was spun around forcefully until I was face to face with him.
Up close, he was overwhelming.
His dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. They sat beneath straight, perfectly shaped brows, sharp and unreadable. His cheekbones were prominent, giving his face a striking, sculpted look. Thick black hair fell naturally to his collar, glossy even in the rain. He stood there silently, yet something about him felt loud. Powerful. Commanding.
My breath hitched.
He was better looking than anyone I had ever seen before. His features were unique, dangerous, the kind that made people stare without realizing they were staring.
But before my mind could wander any further, reality crashed back down.
He did not greet me. He did not ask questions.
He grabbed me.
Before I could scream, he lifted me easily and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.
"What do you think you are doing?" I protested, pounding weakly against his back. "Who do you think you are? Put me down."
He said nothing.
Not a single word.
He carried me straight back to the car and dropped me roughly on my feet. I staggered slightly, trying to steady myself. He looked down at his clothes, sniffed them, and his face twisted in disgust. Then he turned sharply to Taurus.
"You ruined my outfit and my car," he snapped. "What are you?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off immediately with an impatient gesture.
"Shhh," he said dismissively. "That is not even the issue. Did you do this to my car? I do not even need to ask. You did it. You are the only one here."
"No, I did not do that to your car," I said quickly. "Is that why you think it is okay to sexually harass me?"
He laughed, a short mocking sound.
"If anyone asked," he said slowly, looking me up and down, "who do you think they would believe? That a man like me harassed someone like you?"
"So answer me," he continued. "Why?"
"I said I did not do it," I insisted, my voice shaking but firm.
"Then explain why you are wearing only one shoe," he snapped, holding up the shoe and comparing it to the one still on my foot. "Explain why it matches this."
He took a step closer.
"You did this and you are denying it," he continued. "But tell me something. Why the hell did you do this to my car?"
His eyes traveled slowly from my head to my toes, lingering on my soaked maid uniform.
"Do I look like the cause of your problems?" he asked. "Is my car where you decided to dump your anger? Look at what you did to my baby."
I should have known he was strange the moment he kept calling his car his baby. I assumed he was just another spoiled rich playboy. Instead of listening to his rant, my eyes betrayed me.
He was infuriating.
And undeniably handsome.
Grey eyes that looked almost silver in the rain. Curly hair. A solid masculine build. Gum moving lazily between his teeth. A perfectly trimmed beard. A single silver earring in one ear. And when his jacket shifted, I caught sight of a semicolon tattoo etched boldly on his chest.
"I… I…" My words failed me completely.
"You what?" Taurus asked suddenly, stepping closer. He sniffed the air and frowned. "Where is that smell coming from?"
He leaned toward me, then recoiled slightly. "It is you. You smell terrible. And you still claimed harassment?"
Humiliation burned through me like fire.
"What happened to you?" he continued. "Have you not showered in days? Why do you smell like this?"
That was the moment my embarrassment turned into pure rage.
"Smell?" I snapped. "Whose fault do you think that is? You splashed dirty water all over me. Do you think you can talk down on me because you are rich? That was harassment and I do not care who you are. If you ever do that again, I will not take it lightly."
I did not even know if my words made perfect sense, but I meant every single one.
Taurus stepped forward, but the playboy raised his hand, stopping him.
"Take it lightly with who?" he asked coldly. "Do you even know who I am? Look at you. You smell terrible and you still have pride."
"Pride?" I laughed bitterly. "Apologize for what? You splashed water on me, hijacked me, carried me like an object, and you expect me to walk away because I look like this? You rich people always act like you own the world when you live off the taxes we pay. I am the one who deserves an apology."
He scoffed, dropped his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it beneath his shoe.
"Are you stupid?" he said. "Tax? Should you not be grateful you were splashed by a car you can never afford even in your next life? Should you not be honored that a man like me carried you?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick bundle of cash.
"What were you doing there anyway?" he continued. "Or what do you want? Money? It is obvious you do."
He flung the money into the air.
"Here," he said casually. "One thousand dollars."
The bills scattered around us, wet and dirty.
"I know your type," he went on. "You pull cheap stunts for money. I have given you some, so move out of my way. I have better things to do."
He shoved me aside roughly.
"That is for dry cleaning," he added cruelly. "Use the rest to treat your wounds. Forget about the repair cost. You will never afford it. You could work your entire life and still not pay for this."
Something inside me snapped completely.
"What did you just say?" I snarled. "Say that again."
"I said you will never afford it," he replied without hesitation. "Unless you start sleeping around or continue your gold digging business. Who knows which road you will stand on next so another car can splash you again."
His eyes dragged over my body, slow and insulting.
"Look at you. Your outfit. Your injuries. Even that belt mark. You look like someone who just finished a rough BDSM session."
The rain blurred my vision, but I felt everything sharply. The sting on my face. The ache in my ribs. The humiliation curling in my stomach.
Before I could stop myself, I grabbed his shirt with both hands, rose on my toes, and slammed my head into his nose. He was too tall, so my aim was clumsy, but it connected.
Blood spilled instantly.
He shouted in shock and pain. When he tried to grab me, I bit him hard.
"Ewww," he yelled. "What the hell is wrong with her?"
He struggled. "Are you just standing there?" he barked at Taurus. "Do something. Get her off me."
I broke free, my chest heaving, rain mixing with tears.
"I knew it," I shouted bitterly. "Handsome men never have good manners. I only wanted an apology and you buried me in insults."
I bent down, picked up the money, and looked him straight in the eyes.
"You are right," I said. "Thank you for the money. I do not care how you threw it. Since this is how a gold digging business works, congratulations. You are my first customer."
My lips trembled, but I forced a smile.
"And who knows," I added coldly. "You might become my client someday. Consider this your payment for humiliating me."