Chapter 2

Laura's POV

My voice remained trapped in my throat as I stood in the dimly lit room, unable to discern the stranger's face. Confusion and fear coursed through me, torn between fleeing from Santos and this unknown figure who had suddenly appeared.

In a gentle, reassuring tone, the stranger broke the silence, reaching out his hands to calm my racing heart. "Don't panic, Laura," he said, his words carrying a semblance of safety. "It's me, Mark. Sonia sent me."

Relief washed over me like a soothing wave as I whispered, "Oh, thank God." Mark took my small briefcase and guided me to his car, the weight of uncertainty slowly lifting from my shoulders. We drove in silence, eventually arriving at Sonia's apartment.

The door swung open, revealing Sonia's warm embrace as she enveloped me in her arms. Her voice overflowed with genuine concern as she assured me, "It's fine now, love, it's fine." Gratefulness welled up within me as I thanked her for sheltering me, but she quickly interrupted, dismissing my gratitude. "Don't say that, babe. You are welcome to stay as long as you want," she insisted, her eyes filled with warmth. 

Turning to Mark, her boyfriend, she expressed her appreciation. "Thanks, babe, for bringing her here," eliciting a grin from Mark, who planted a tender kiss on her forehead. "Anytime, hun. I'll leave you both to have some girl time," he said before heading upstairs.

Sonia guided me to the beautifully furnished parlor, its elegance capturing my attention. As my eyes wandered, a thought pierced my mind— if only Mark knew about Sonia's secret activities behind his back, How she sustained her luxurious lifestyle by involving herself with wealthy men who footed her bills. I quickly admonished myself, realizing it was not my place to pry into her private life. She had been a good friend, and meddling had only strained our relationship in the past.

"You must be tired," Sonia said, rising from the cushioned seat. "Have you eaten? What can I get you?"

"No, I'm not hungry, babe. I don't have an appetite," I replied, motioning for her to join me. 

"I'm just so glad you're here," she expressed, gripping my hand tightly. "I'm glad you finally dared to leave that... that godforsaken son of a bitch," she exclaimed, gesturing her disdain with a flailing of her arms. 

Chuckling, I asked, "You hated him that much?"

"You can't even imagine," Sonia responded, her voice tinged with anger. "He's lucky he's good-looking; otherwise, I would've unleashed my fury on him the day he made advances toward me."

"Let's not talk about him anymore, please. Change the subject," I pleaded, attempting to escape the intrusive thoughts. Yet, despite my efforts, questions lingered. What would Santos do when he woke up and discovered I was missing? What if he relentlessly pursued me, carrying out his threats? Enough, I said to myself. He can't reach you now. Your phone is switched off, and he doesn't know Hannah's address. Relax, at least for now.

"Yes, that reminds me," Sonia interjected, her excitement palpable, drawing my attention away from the troubling thoughts. I wondered what could elicit such enthusiasm in a matter of seconds.

"I've been invited to a charity ball event tomorrow," she declared, her eyes shimmering with delight.

"Who invited you to a charity ball event?" I inquired, though I already knew the answer—another one of her sugar daddies.

"That's not important, Laura," Sonia replied, moving closer to me. "This is the perfect opportunity for you to distract yourself from everything that has happened."

I hesitated, keeping a slight distance from her. "No, Sonia," I asserted firmly. "There's no way I'm going with you to the event."

Sonia's face fell, disappointment flickering across her features. "But, Laura, you can't leave me hanging. I was specifically asked to bring a plus one," she pleaded, her tone tinged with desperation.

Summoning my resolve, I held my ground. "You have a boyfriend, Sonia. I'm sure Mark wouldn't mind accompanying you," I suggested, with a tinge of mockery.

Sonia's expression hardened, and she snapped, "Stop it!" Surprisingly, her outburst caused me to burst into laughter, a welcome release after the tension-filled moments. It felt good to laugh again, even if it was just for a brief moment.

With a sigh, I relented, realizing the depth of our friendship. "Okay," I conceded, causing Sonia to envelop me in another tight embrace. "I knew you would never refuse me," she whispered gratefully. It was true; we had always been there for each other when it mattered most.

As the night wore on, exhaustion began to weigh on me, and I glanced at the wall clock—it was already 11 p.m. Sensing my weariness, Sonia took my hand and led me up the stairs to the guest room.

*****

The following day arrived with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. Sonia and I busied ourselves with preparations for the charity ball event. It was exactly 8 pm when we gracefully entered the grand venue for the charity ball event. A symphony of elegance filled the air, as attendees adorned themselves with opulent clothing and exquisite jewelry. 

Sonia, being my dearest friend and sharing the same dress size, had kindly lent me a beautifully tailored red gown. To be honest, I didn't care about what I was wearing; my main focus was simply supporting and being there for Sonia.

She had been brimming with enthusiasm for this event, emphasizing how only the crème de la crème of the city had received exclusive invitations. And she was right. The atmosphere reeked of wealth and privilege. As we made our way through the crowd, thoughts of Santos continued to occupy my mind, lingering for the past few hours since we had left Sonia's house. It felt as if a shadow was trailing behind me, an unsettling presence lurking in the darkness.

"Don't you love it here?" Sonia exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

"I don't know, honestly. I just want this to be over so we can go home," I replied calmly. Our conversation was abruptly interrupted when a dashing young man appeared and whisked Sonia away.

"Are you sure you'll be alright alone, I could stay back if you want me to?" she inquired, but her words lacked sincerity. I looked at her and mustered a smile. "Go and have fun, babe. I'll be fine," I assured her. She planted a gentle kiss on my cheek before venturing off into the evening.

And there I stood, alone amidst the crowd, my nearly empty champagne glass clasped in my hand, patiently waiting for the event to conclude. I couldn't shake off the feeling that I didn't belong here, that this extravagant gathering was not meant for someone like me. A sense of disconnection washed over me, and I released a weary sigh.

Surveying the glamorous surroundings, I tried to divert my attention from the inner turmoil that plagued my thoughts. Yet, a persistent unease lingered, akin to an ominous dark cloud hovering above, hinting at impending danger.

Glancing in Sonia's direction, I observed her laughter cascading through the room as she engaged with the man by her side. I averted my gaze, absentmindedly scanning the crowd until my eyes locked onto a captivating sight. There he was, a strikingly handsome man, towering at 6 feet 5 inches, his dark and alluring features drawing me in. Although he stood at a distance, I could feel his penetrating gaze, one that seemed to pierce through my soul. Suddenly, he began striding purposefully toward me.

"No, no, he can't be coming over here," I murmured, feeling as though the ground beneath me should open up and swallow me whole.

"Hello, beautiful. May I ask why a lovely lady like you is sitting here all alone?" he inquired, his voice dripping with charm and confidence,

"I am Nicholas Brandson," he declared, reaching out his hand for a handshake. Did I hear correctly? Did he introduce himself as Nicholas Brandson? The very same Nicholas Brandson who is known as the ruthless Mafia Lord, feared and revered by many? I was taken aback by the weight of his presence, standing in awe, realizing that I needed to respond and meet his outstretched hand.

As I opened my mouth to speak, an unintended slip escaped, "Did you just say you are Nicholas Brandson, the founder of Berkshire Savannah Company?" Shame washed over me as I realized I shouldn't have sounded so stunned, I feared he would perceive me as a low-class girl incapable of fitting in among the wealthy elite.

To my surprise, he erupted in hearty laughter, the deep resonance of his voice reverberating through the air. His laughter had an intoxicating quality, igniting a fire of desire within me.

"It seems my reputation precedes me," he finally spoke, his voice possessing an irresistible allure that sent waves of longing through my entire being. At that moment, it became clear that Nicholas Brandson held power not only through his wealth but also through his commanding presence and captivating persona.

Gathering my composure, I responded with newfound confidence, "Please forgive my manners. I am Laura." There was no need to divulge my last name, as it held no significance in this world of opulence and intrigue.

"Well, Laura, I hope you don't mind some company. I couldn't let a beautiful lady like you sit all alone," he said with a seductive tone, stirring something deep inside me. I wasn't surprised; a man of his caliber could easily have this effect on any woman without even trying.

"Yes, please, I don't mind," I replied urgently. Why am I acting and sounding so desperate? Can he see through me?

"Lovely. Now, I'm curious to know more about Laura," he said, a charming smile playing on his lips. Instantly, a thousand thoughts swirled in my head. Why would he want to know who I am? I am nobody. He probably wants to know which elite family I come from. Should I lie? Should I mention a famous name in town off the top of my head? He probably knows all the elites in town since they are all gathered here, aren't they? Just be true to yourself, Laura, dammit!

"Well..." I began, trying to sound as composed as possible, "I am Laura Dickson, a model who is passionate about giving back to the society that raised me…" Wow, nice one, Laura. You must be trying hard to fit into his world, I thought to myself. It was funny how I was saying things differently from what I was thinking. He had an incredible effect on me.

"Interesting," he interjected. "A model, huh? That explains why you look so breathtaking," he said, his eyes undressing me while wearing a wicked smile that made the corners of his lips curl.

"Now, tell me, what exactly would it take to have you?" His gaze now fixated on my breasts, causing my nipples to react involuntarily.

"Mh mmh," I cleared my throat, trying to redirect his attention. "You must always have your way with women, I see," I said, holding his gaze for the first time, making my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. 

"Well, I must warn you, I am not easily won over," I finished.

"That's what most of them say in the beginning," he started, leaning in closer and whispering, "but they end up screaming my name in bed." My thoughts began to run wild, imagining how it would feel to kiss his sensual lips, touch the strong muscles beneath his shirt, and experience the desires he aroused within me. 

"Careful, Mr. Nicholas," I began, my voice trembling with a mixture of anticipation and caution.

"Calm down, I am just kidding. No need to get all riled up," he reassured me, his tone soothing and playful.

"I apologize for all the provocative things I said," he added, his eyes lacking warmth as he looked into mine.

"Apology accepted," I replied, although a part of me knew that he didn't truly mean it. There was a mysterious allure about Nicholas Brandson, an enigmatic figure who held an untouchable reputation and commanded fear in the town. Yet, at this moment, he gazed at me with genuine intrigue, his piercing eyes delving into the depths of my soul.

"Do you mind taking a walk with me to my table?" he asked, his request laced with a sense of undeniable power. Without a moment's hesitation, I accepted his offer, and he took my hand, leading me through the crowd toward his table.

However, just as we were about to sit, his voice suddenly cut through the ambient chatter, filled with urgency and authority.

"Watch out!" he shouted, instinctively shoving me aside with force.

The room erupted in chaos as a gunshot rang out, sending shockwaves of panic through the crowd. Fear gripped my heart as adrenaline surged through my veins. I found myself on the ground, entangled with Nicholas.

 Amid the chaos, I noticed blood on my hand, one of us had been hit.

Whose was it—mine or his?