Chapter 5: The Monster's Speed

Bella's POV

I lifted my chin, and my gaze collided with a pair of bottomless, red eyes.

Adam Blackwood!

The man I had forcibly kissed in his office this morning!

I was too surprised that the heavy bottle of Romanée-Conti slipped from my grasp and plummeted toward the floor.

It's over, I thought, my mind going blank.

That bottle is worth three years of my salary. I’m dead.

I braced for the crash, but it never came.

A large hand had appeared out of nowhere and caught the bottle in the last millisecond before it hit the carpet.

It was impossible! I didn't even see him move.

I stared at Adam's hand, my mouth slightly open, my brain completely unable to process what just happened.

"You stupid bitch!"

A roar shattered the silence.

A fat man jumped up from the sofa. Spittle flew from his mouth as he pointed a shaking finger at my nose.

"Do you know how much that wine costs?" he screamed. "If you spill a single drop, selling your body on the street corner wouldn't pay for it! Get out!"

He raised his heavy hand, aiming a shove at my shoulder.

I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut and curling my shoulders in, preparing for the pain.

"George. Shut up."

The voice wasn't loud. But it froze the air in the room instantly.

George’s hand stopped in mid-air.

Adam was looking at him like he was looking at a dead cockroach.

Then, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me.

I stumbled forward, losing my balance. I fell against his hard chest, and he maneuvered me behind him.

His broad back became a wall. It blocked George’s angry face.

His thumb brushed roughly over the back of my hand, right where the wine had splashed earlier.

Currents of electricity shot up my arm. My breath hitched. It was that same scorching heat I felt in my dream.

"Stand here," he commanded. "Don't move."

He turned his full attention to the fat man. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"George Miller," Adam said. "I don't have time for your nonsense. The woman with purple eyes. Where is she?"

George’s eyes darted around the room. He wiped sweat from his forehead with a trembling hand.

"I... I don't know what you are talking about, Mr. Blackwood..."

"Two million," Adam cut him off. His voice was cold, sharp as a blade. "Cash. Transferred tonight. I buy your failing factory. And I buy one address."

George swallowed hard. I could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

Greed warred with fear in his watery eyes. Greed won.

"Deal," George croaked.

He reached into his jacket pocket with trembling hands and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

"She's at the docks. The 'Black Cat Hotel'. Room 302." He handed it over. "That's her hideout. But I'm warning you... that woman is weird. Evil."

Adam glanced at his assistant, Lucas, who was standing by the door.

Lucas took the paper and tapped on his tablet. "It's real, Boss. The signal matches."

Adam stood up instantly.

He buttoned his suit jacket. He moved with a terrifying, efficient grace.

He strode toward the door.

But as his hand touched the handle, he stopped.

He turned around.

Those red eyes locked onto me. They burned.

"Stay here."

His voice was low, filled with a warning I couldn't understand. And something else. Something possessive.

"Don't go anywhere. Wait for me to come back. Our account isn't settled yet."

He didn't wait for my answer. He opened the door and vanished into the hallway, Lucas trailing behind him.

The moment the latch clicked, George collapsed onto the sofa like a boneless heap of meat.

I stood there, frozen.

Suddenly, George lifted his head.

He looked at me with a twisted mix of pity and malice.

"Little girl," he rasped, his voice sounding like sandpaper. "If I were you, I would run. Now."

I blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Did you see that?" George clawed at his thinning hair, his eyes wild. "The bottle... That wasn't human speed. He is a monster. If you stay here... you will die a miserable death."

He didn't wait for my answer. He scrambled out the back exit, stumbling over his own feet as if the devil was chasing him.

The room was empty.

I wrapped my arms around myself. I shouldn't listen to a crazy man. But I was terrified of Adam.

Yet, a strange instinct deep in my gut told me to wait. To trust him. It made no sense.

Time crawled.

Ten minutes. Thirty minutes.

11:00 PM.

Ring! Ring!

The harsh sound of my phone shattered the silence.

"Bella! Where the hell are you to die!" Aunt Genevieve’s shriek pierced my eardrum.

Background noise thumped heavily—bass, cheering. It sounded like a club.

"Jessica got into trouble at the club! We need five hundred dollars cash for damages! Now! Immediately! Bring the money to the Galaxy Club!"

"I... I can't leave work right now..."

"Fine!" Genevieve screamed. "Then you can go look for your parents' junk in the recycling center! I have the box right here. I'm walking to the dumpster right now!"

"No!" I screamed."Don't throw it! I'm coming! I'm coming right now!"

I hung up.

My heart was racing so fast it hurt.

I couldn't wait.

I grabbed my old canvas bag from the corner of the sofa.

I didn't notice that in my haste, a small object slipped out of the side pocket.

A small Polaroid photo.

---

Less than two minutes after Bella left, a black Maybach drifted to a halt in front of the restaurant.

Adam kicked the car door open. He marched through the lobby, ignoring the stunned staff who bowed as he passed.

He pushed open the door to the VIP room.

"Bella."

Silence.

The room was empty.

Adam stopped. He frowned, his jaw clenching tight. The air around him crackled with irritation.

That woman dared to run away again?

He took a step forward, anger radiating off him in waves.

Then, he froze.

His enhanced vision caught something on the floor.

It was a Polaroid.

In the photo, a scruffy, dirty puppy looked at the camera with guarded eyes.

It had red eyes.