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CH 2: The Encounter.

Sofia POV.

I fell to the ground, feeling the weight of my body hit the bonnet of the car, and I screamed out in pain.

The horns of the other cars went off, but still the light pointed in my face, the bright headlight threatening to blind me.

Then a figure approached me, his pants tailored and ironed, his shoelaces made of fine leather.

I raised my gaze gradually, then our eyes met. A man was standing in front of me, his face filled with wrinkles, but still his eyes looked cold.

I shivered. I knew for a fact he didn't hit me; I had fallen out of free will, thinking he would just hit me and run, but he didn't. Instead, he stayed, causing chaos in the middle of the road. The other cars pressed on the horn repeatedly, but the man didn't flinch one bit.

He just stared at me with disgust, like I was a piece of shit. Of course I am… My total existence had always been from one chaos to another.

"I…I…was…."

“Have you gone nuts?" He asked, his voice husky.

"The…me." I pointed at the car, then at myself, as confused as he was, my gaze not leaving his eyes.

“Answer me! ”. The man yelled.

"Yes." I answered immediately, swallowing hard.

“That explains it." He answered coldly; he looked at me for a moment, searching his well-tailored pant trouser, and he pulled out his glasses.

I picked up what was left of my shame, standing to my feet, dusting the dirt that had gathered on my clothes off. His driver drove off the road and parked by the side. The man pulled me at once, and I followed like a rope being pulled.

“I'm… I’m sorry, sir." I apologized, tears gathered in my eyes, and the old man still stared at me, his look one of confusion.

He rubbed his hands against my face, rubbing my swollen eyes and my pale lips. His touch irritated me, but I stood still.

"Sofia?" The man rubbed my face down to my chest, then stopped midway, his hands on my breast.

How did he know my name?.

Who is this man?.

“Excuse me." I tried to break free, but his grip was too strong.

“You know Tristain?" The man asked again, and I looked at him in rage.

“The bastard." My voice was barely above a whisper.

The old man smiled, his brows raised.

“Come with me?" The man offered; he raised two fingers to the air, and a man dressed in a black suit and a bleach shade jumped out of the car and opened the backseat.

I was taken aback.

“I'm not coming with you." I countered, my heart racing.

“You don't have a choice here." The man answered, trying to pull me, but I held his hand, my grip firm against his.

“I won't hurt you." He pacified me.

“And if you do?" I asked in confusion, scanning my eyes around the whole place, the street already empty. Two other guys watched from a distance; they watched with keen interest. If I ran away from this old Jackie holding me hostage, I was adamant I wouldn't survive an hour with those guys; they'd strip me naked and have their way with me.

I look at him; he smells of dominance and power. He knows me…he knows my name.

“Do you need him to carry you?" The man raised his hand; the man in a suit walked towards us.

“I can work." I answered coldly.

I clicked into the car, the door shut from my end, and the soothing car smell welcomed me in.

The man climbed in from the other end, his face coming to full view; he had a tattoo that went up his neck and down his chest, his eyes were cold, and his hair was brown in color.

I tried to stay calm; my whole life is a mess already—what more could go wrong?—but still I panicked.

I stared at him, and the man dressed in a black suit sat in the driver's seat, waiting for the last order from the old man, his boss.

The car is still in the same spot.

The man studied me with keen interest.

“What happened? ”. He asked, grabbing my hand and rubbing it gently; his touch made my body shiver, but still I stayed put.

“I wasn't looking," I lied, pulling my hand away slowly, and he didn't hold back.

“Your face is all pale and swollen." He started again, rubbing on my face. I pushed his hands away, giving him a cold look.

“I have a cold." I lied again.

"Really?" He asked with his brow raised.

“Yes “. 

The old man chuckled slightly.

“Did my son hurt you? ”. 

Tye's tears poured that minute. I couldn't control myself; I burst into tears. Looking at his hand, I saw a mark of a snake.... . I recognized it.

Tristain had that exact mark on his hand; I was certain I wasn't mistaken.

He's…he's…his father.

The tears poured freely; I was unable to stop it. The old man allowed me; he didn't stop me from wailing or staining his car with my tears.

“What happened? Talk to me." The man asked, holding my hand and rubbing it calmly.

"Tristain…Tristain…" I pulled my phone out, swiping the screen open, opening the group chat, and I pushed the phone into his hands.

He didn't respond hastily.

He scanned the content in the group, taking his time.

The old man stared at the whole chair, his shoulder clenched, and he let go of my hand, his hand rolled into a fist.

“One thousand dollars and I'd drop the full video." 

Tristain's comment.

He read out loud for the second time.

I leaned back on the car seat, sobbing uncontrollably.

The temperature in the car was intense.

"Tristain?" The man asked his eyes not to look at the phone.

“Yes," I whispered.

“You allowed him to make videos of you like this, or did he do it against your wish? ”. The man asked.

“I allowed him to make the videos." I cleared the mucus off my nose.

“I warned him about posting them, and he swore he would never," I snapped.

“I see." The man answered, dropping my phone on the car seat, and veins popped out from his head.

"Move." He ordered the man dressed in a suit, he turned the keys starting the engine, and something went off at once.

“I will make him regret this." The old man swore; I turned to the window, my fate unknown, eyes closed in frustration.