Chapter 2

Tyrra's POV

Seeing them together on the bed had already shattered me, but hearing Flavier’s words was worse than a dagger.

I gasped, my lungs seizing, my skin burning with a feverish heat. Tears blurred my sight as I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the stilettos at the door. My chest thudded painfully, wild and uneven.

I fled. I didn’t think, didn’t breathe, just ran until my hands found the steering wheel. The engine roared to life beneath my trembling grip, and I drove with no sense of direction. Home was impossible. I couldn’t face Grace. I couldn’t face my father. I couldn’t face anyone.

My thoughts circled in a dizzy haze, Why? How? Until a blaring horn ripped through the fog.

“CRASH!”

Metal screeched. My car spun, tires screaming against the pavement. I slammed the brakes, but the jolt still rattled through my bones. When the vehicle finally shuddered to a stop, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Across the intersection, a black sedan sat crooked, its bumper crumpled. The door flung open, and a man in a dark suit stepped out. I braced for fury, but instead his expression shifted, sharp concern softening his face.

“What are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself?” His voice was stern, but there was worry under the edge.

I tried to speak, but only a broken sob escaped. I crumpled in the driver’s seat, burying my face in my hands. My chest heaved as the world tilted, lights and sounds spinning around me.

I felt small, stripped bare. The betrayal still stung, the fear from the crash still pulsing through me, and now, someone else was seeing me break. That, somehow, hurt worse than anything else.

The man took a step closer, his voice softer this time. “Hey… are you alright?”

My sobs filled the silence. I pressed my palms harder over my face, wishing I could vanish before anyone could see how broken I truly was.

“Where are you going?” he asked, leaning just enough to catch my eyes. A vein throbbed at my temple. His tone was firm, but there was a strange tenderness underneath. “I’ll take you.”

Two worlds crashed inside me—the jagged betrayal of Flavier and Grace, and the unsettling security this stranger seemed to carry.

I shook my head, trembling. Speaking, explaining, was impossible.

“You can’t drive like this,” he said, his voice firmer now. “Your car isn’t safe. Let me take you.”

But Flavier’s voice still echoed, Grace’s laugh slicing through my memory. The man’s words barely reached me through the storm.

He exhaled, patience thinning. “You have two choices. Either I get you somewhere safe, or I call the police. Your call.”

The word police sent me spiraling. The shame. The scandal. The headlines. I broke, tears spilling harder.

“Fine,” I whispered, so low it was almost to myself. “Just… take me.”

At last, I lifted my gaze. His eyes, red-rimmed yet steady, held a stubborn resolve, and something softer I couldn’t name. I gave a weak nod.

“Okay,” I rasped.

“Good.” His voice gentled, almost reassuring. “Get in my car. I’ll take care of you.”

My body obeyed before my mind could resist. I moved like I was walking through chains, each step heavier than the last. He opened the door for me, guiding me into the passenger seat, closing it with deliberate care. Someone else moved to handle my wrecked car.

Inside, silence pressed around me. I could feel his presence beside me—strong, controlled, dangerous even—but in a way that felt… safe.

When he slid behind the wheel, I stole a glance. Dark hair fell across his forehead. His sharp blue eyes met mine, and lingered, curious, unreadable.

“For what?” I asked softly.

Anywhere. Anywhere but home. Anywhere but the nightmare I had left behind.

“Anywhere. Just take me anywhere,” I whispered.

His brow arched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “That’s not very specific,” he murmured, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

My jaw tightened. I didn’t want jokes. I didn’t want pity. I just needed escape.

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Your place,” I blurted.

“Wherever you go is fine,” I said, my voice trembling.

A long breath left him. Hesitation lingered, but at last, his hands tightened on the wheel, and the car moved.

Silence filled the ride, broken only by the hum of the engine and the frantic thud of my heart. I didn’t know where we were going. I just knew I couldn’t go back.

My quiet sniffling betrayed me. After a while, he glanced my way.

“You’re sure you don’t want to go home? Or… the hospital?” His voice had softened.

I shook my head. My tears had ebbed, leaving me hollow, drained.

He sighed. “Alright. I don’t know what happened, but… if you want to talk, I’m here.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, so faint it barely carried.

When the car finally stopped, he guided me gently into the suite. The driver stayed behind to handle the wreck. Inside, he eased me onto the couch, pressing a cool glass of water into my trembling hands.

Then he sat beside me, his voice low, steady.

“What happened? Why are you crying?”

I couldn’t speak. Fresh tears slid down my cheeks as I shook my head. The weight of heartbreak was too heavy for words.

He didn’t push. He didn’t even speak.

I rose unsteadily to my feet. “I… I need to freshen up,” I murmured, clutching the towel tighter around my waist. “It’s been a long day.” Without waiting for a reply, I slipped into the bathroom.

When I came out, I froze. He was in my room.

My pulse quickened. “What are you doing here? Do you need something?” My voice shook.

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze lingered on me, unreadable, steady, almost consuming.

“Are you married?” he asked finally.

I blinked, startled. “No… why are you—”

“Engaged? Or a boyfriend?” he pressed, cutting me off, his tone sharp but calm.

My mouth went dry. “No,” I whispered, confusion lacing every syllable.

The silence thickened, pressing between us. He stepped closer, slowly, deliberately, watching every flicker of reaction from me.

Then, his voice came low, direct.

“Do you… want to be with me?”

My breath caught. My heart thrashed against my ribs, torn between fear, shock, and something else I didn’t dare name. Attraction. Danger. Both at once. Words failed me.