"Don't hesitate—if she shows up, put a bullet in her."
As these words were spoken by my perpetrators, it sent shivers down my spine. I unconsciously covered my mouth with fear, my eyes becoming watery again.
Footsteps were nearing my place, playing the rhythm of my heartbeat...
Echoed heavy boots behind me, irritated voices closed in—men who wouldn't stop until they had me cornered. The night air bit cold against my skin, and the rooftop stretched endlessly beneath the dark sky.
I turned sharply, searching for another way out, but the edge of the rooftop loomed closer with every step. Panic clawed at my chest—there was nowhere left to run.
Then, out of the shadows, a hand shot forward. Strong. Unyielding.
He caught me by the waist, pulling me sharply into the darkened corner between towering walls and the rooftop ledge. My back collided with his chest, the sudden closeness stealing what little breath I had left. His grip was firm, possessive, almost dangerous—but it kept me from stepping into the open where my pursuers would see.
I froze, trembling, my lips parted but silent, my eyes wide as I tried to turn toward him.
"Don't move," he murmured, his voice low, a command more than a plea. I just nodded silently as if I were just a commoner who had to kneel before their king.
My silence was deafening, but he felt it—the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat, the way my fingers curled slightly against his coat as if torn between fear and desperate trust.
FOR A MAN who could never recognize faces, it was her trembling presence, her angelic features, her petite visage, her unwavering stature of principles, and her quiet defiance in that moment of terror that carved itself into his memory for the first time. Long after the footsteps faded and the danger passed, he knew she was someone he would not forget.
Her worries suddenly disappear. She immediately stood up and used a hand gesture to say "thank you."
However,
in the heat of a moment.
"Caught you, you thought you could outrun them?
No one escapes—not even you, Kitten."
He declared. Lips curled slightly. His low voice already made an impact on my system.
I froze. Coldness dampens my bare skin. That is the time I realized I got a small scrape on my left leg due to the deadly stunt I had made earlier. My inner core becomes confused, neither to feel the threat behind my back nor was it due to the stinging sensation that is now gradually paving its way to make my steps pause midway. Stiffed yet freaking out inside.
The presence behind became clear. His aura enfolds the ambiance. Footsteps became clearer and clearer, closer and closer. In no time, he was behind me already. I gulped. Silence occurred in the thin air.
This familiar voice. This nauseated feeling. His scent never fails to escape from my nostrils...
Regan Rancere.
Before I even knew it, he already pulled my waist to his. Deafening heartbeat sprinted uncontrollably from within. He whispers the song of confinement, "I never thought I could be able to envisage your tempting beauty again, Little Llorente in here, of all places, what an... amusing encounter, isn't it?"
With my eyes widening, all of my efforts and bravery I had earlier were now consumed, having no strength at all, I shivered when he gently placed his index finger on my chin.
Centimeters away. I examined his features distinctly. Captivated by his resonance, I wanted to shout 'unhand me!' but my voice is the problem.
I turned my face away from him, enough to cut the crossfire of our eye competition.
His eyes flickered, probably due to my expression; he saw the glimpse of fear, threat, and something I don't want him to know.
"From my knowledge, Mr. Llorente's única hija has a gifted voice, talented enough to overthrow a damn competition with her lone skills. I wonder if I could be able to hear her rhythmic phrase in bed?"
He added without a filter. "Could she be able to serenade my sleeping rhapsody?"
With finality, he announced his carnal desires. My palm suddenly touches his sculpted face with a filthy look on my face, the cause might be his words or due to the fact that he already knew that I am not the real Llorente. To my surprise, I acted unconsciously, yet grateful because he deserved the slap. I unclasped myself from his brazen clutch.
So, this is the real Regan Rancere? An asshole!
He gently massaged the cheek I left a mark on. Instead of backing down, he grinned, his shoulder suddenly shaking, and for the nth time, I heard him chuckle.
He is unbelievable!
The nervousness suddenly left my body; it is now filled with disgust and judgment.
Even if I was not the real Llorente, how dare he speak those indelicate remarks towards my friend?!
His words and actions don't resonate with his appearance!
I saw him clench his jaw a little, he threw a bloodshot gaze towards me after it is as if I was the only thing being auctioned in his viewpoint. His expression formed seriousness...
"I do not condone this kind of treatment, Little Kitten, but I might consider this as a guilty-pleasure demeanor— you make me aroused and captivated by your impudence." his tone is filled with deriding commentary; it suggests nothing but the most loathsome trait a man could make me puke in an instant.
I made a remorseful declaration, how I promptly classified him as a stereotypical tycoon who hungers for power and money in dominion, and I am not one of his pawns!
"You seriously assumed I am one of those strippers who would do anything for money?"
He was taken aback yet amused by the motions I was making.
Whether he understood or not, I don't give a damn!
"Mark my words, billions to tons, even the tips of my fingers, no bills can buy me!"
The night sky was illuminated by a fireworks display. With my insides glimmering with burning exasperation, its timing protagonizes the maddening feeling he made me feel.
"That suits better," he replied and swiftly grabbed my weight, he positioned me on his shoulder like a sack being carried out. Interrupted with his movement, footsteps were heard again.
"—!"
I tried protesting, but he firmly held me. I twitched when my scraped leg touched his hardened arms. He ran towards the other direction, away from the pursuers. I subdue, like a runaway prisoner, in a few minutes if sprinting, we finally reached the other side of the lobby.
Being dragged into this mess, what a dreadful shift to have!
Another set of men in suits welcomed us. I unwittingly started to hate seeing men in finery attire, which gives me trauma. As soon as his grip loosened, my body instinctively preparing to escape, without a second, I found myself inside the vehicle. Before I could even react, he sat beside me, the engine was on, and the driver started maneuvering the mobile. I'm being kidnapped!
He pulled me into him, inches away, he nonchalantly ripped my dress, bare skin showing, and he scanned my scraped.
Trying my best to hide it, his other hand gripped my two hands effortlessly behind my back. The man in the passenger seat handed him a knot, but he declined. I whimper in protest. I found myself in a state of being ashamed, cheeks being pinched like a tomato, he seriously hates the word space.
What does he want? Tend the wound while I was taken hostage?
Questions arise, it is giving me the benefit of the doubt whether or not he found out I was not the real Llorente or not.
His head leaned a bit toward my legs, with a gentle touch, and my body tensed. My chest will burst in no time. With his actions, he side-eyed me, who was intently staring at his side profile, then he looked again at my scraped leg it is as if it was a painting displayed in the museum. He then took something from his pocket, a white handkerchief, and carefully folded it lengthwise until it formed a straight strip ready to tie as if a first aid to my wound. Gently tying it, he silently goes back to his seat, a bit relaxed. There was a pindropped silence after.
The questions and doubts in me piled up twice. Was this act of him... a facade or an in-depth personality of his? His aura is way too far beneath the asshole he has shown earlier; it is as if his tongue does not speak ill. It is as if he is an angel sent.
My body feels heavy, tired of the experience I went through. I couldn't help but fall asleep on the backseat, beside him, beside Regan Rancere.
Speed enough, I loosened, like a prey that's now under control, like a prey that is willing to be bitten.