Dropped and Found

CHAPTER 3

Mia's POV

The moment the car started moving, panic rushed through my veins like wildfire.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped, twisting the handles, but it wouldn't budge. “Unlock this door, Saint!”

He didn't answer. His gaze was just fixed ahead, fingers tapping slowly against his thigh like a silent warning.

“Sain–”

“Sit back,” he said quietly.

The way his voice dropped made my stomach flip. It wasn't loud, but it was a command that sent a shiver through me.

I glared at him. “You can't just kidnap me!”

His head turned, eyes dark as midnight. “Do you really think anyone would stop me?”

The nerve.

“I said let me down! You can't just drag me into your car like some kind of-”

He cut me off, his voice low and deadly. “If you don't shut up, I'll drop you in the middle of the road.”

I froze, staring at him. “Do it then,” I shot, my voice laced with anger. “At least I'll be far away from your damn ego.”

His eyes flickered toward me. For a beat I thought he would shut me up, but then he shrugged. “Fine.”

My breath caught “Wait, I didn't mean–”

“Stop the car, Bruno,” he ordered.

The driver glanced at him through the mirror, unsure. “Boss–”

“Do it.”

The car slowed and my pulse raced. He wasn't serious. He wouldn't actually drop me off in the middle of nowhere.

The car came to a full stop.

“Get out,” he said flatly.

My jaw dropped. “You're insane.”

“Then we're even,” he muttered, unlocking the door.

I stared at him, but his face was stern, cold. Almost like he actually meant it.

When I didn't move, his voice darkened. “Out.”

Fine. I shoved the door open and stepped out, the cool air hitting my bare arms like ice. Before I could blink, the door slammed shut, and the car sped off.

I stood in the middle of an empty road, city lights faint in the distance. My heart pounded as I cursed under my breath. “Unbelievable. He actually did it.”

I whirred, looking around the buildings, yes–but no cars or people. It was just the sound of a faint breeze and my heels clicking against the pavement.

“Stupid, arrogant, power-drunk asshole,” I muttered, pulling out my phone. I dialed Adele's number, but got no signal. “Perfect.”

I tried again. It was futile.

I tried walking, my eyes darting every few seconds. Every second, cars horn, making me flinch.

Saint's words echoed in my head. 'Do you know what happens to girls who stay out this late in Rome?’

I swallowed hard, gripping my purse. “You're fine, Mia. You're not a scared kid. You're fine.”

Ten minutes turned to thirty. My feet ached from walking, my phone battery blinked red, and the road grew quieter. For a moment, I believed Saint was kidding and would come back to get me.

But who the heck was I kidding?

If I could compare his damn little brother, Connor, Saint Valerio was more nonchalant and cruel.

Suddenly, a black car slowed beside me. My stomach dropped.

The window rolled down, and a man leaned slightly out. “Hai bisogno di un passaggio?”

I stiffened, taking a step back. “I-I don't understand,”

He chuckled softly, switching to English. “You look lost. I can take you home.”

Lost? It was an understatement.

But he had kind eyes and a warm smile. Still, my mind screamed no.

“I'm fine,” I said quickly, trying to walk off.

The car moved forward beside me. “Rome isn't safe tonight, bella. You shouldn't walk alone.”

I stopped, glaring at him. “And you think I should get into a stranger's car instead?”

He smiled faintly. “If it helps, my name's Marco. I'm not a bad guy.”

I bit my lip, almost reluctant. My options were limited. It was either I'm going to get to Adele's place the next day or roam around all night. Against my better judgment, I sighed. “Fine. But if you try anything, I'll break your nose.”

He grinned. “Noted.”

The seat was warm and the car smelled faintly of leather and mint. He drove calmly, glancing at me now and then.

“So, what's the name?” he asked.

“Mia.”

“Pretty name.”

I gave a noncommittal hum, staring out the window.

He continued. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“Berlin.” I muttered.

“Ah. That explains it. You don't look like the girls here.”

I turned my head slightly. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He laughed softly. “Nothing bad. Anyways, where are you heading?”

I rolled my eyes, but gave him directions. When we finally pulled up in Adele's apartment, I exhaled in relief. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime,” he winked, parking. “Maybe I'll see you around?”

“Maybe.”

He smiled, and I slammed the door shut before he could say more. I watched him wave a hand before driving off.

Sighing, I strode in–soft music hit me first. Then low moans, the creak of a couch. My brows furrowed. “Adele?”

I trod into the living room…and froze at the sight.

She was on the couch. Barely dressed and tangled with some guy, lost in her own world.

I covered my eyes instantly. “Oh my goodness.”

Adele gasped, pushing the guy off. “Shit, Mia! You could knock!”

I dropped my hands and snapped. “You could lock the damn door!”

She fixed her hair and tried to sit upright, glaring. “What are you doing so late?”

I glanced at the guy and back at her. “Oh you know. Got kidnapped, dropped off in the middle of nowhere, and almost hitchhiked with a stranger. Normal stuff, huh?”

Adele blinked. “You what?”

“Forget it,” I muttered, storming toward my room.

“Hey!” She called after me. “Maybe you should, like, relax? Go fix your head or something!”

I slammed the door shut. “Go fix your morals!”

I collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My heart still wouldn't slow down. It felt like a war drum. Connor's face still flashed through my mind. Even till down, I couldn't believe we were over.

He hadn't called. Not a single text since I left Berlin.

He didn't care. It was obvious. But the thought of it felt like a sting.

The lump in my throat grew heavy. I wiped my eyes furiously and turned away, curling up until I succumbed to sleep.

***

I woke up to Adele's voice the next morning. “Mia! Get up! You're late!”

I blinked, groaning. “What time–”

“Eight-thirty!”

My eyes flew open. “Shit.”

I jumped out of bed, showered, and threw on a dress, fixing my hair with one hand. Adele stood in the doorway, smirking. “You've got that job at Maison de Luxe, right? Don't go looking like a zombie.”

“Thanks for your support,” I muttered sarcastically, grabbing my purse and rushing out.

The receptionist at Maison de Luxe smiled the moment she saw me. “Good morning, Miss Salvatore.”

“Morning,” I said breathlessly, forcing a polite smile.

As I walked through the lobby, the eyes of the rest were on me and whispers followed.

“That's her.”

“She's the one who spilled wine on Mr Saint. I guess that's why he's not here today.”

“I don't think so. He rarely shows up.”

“Is she brave or stupid?”

I kept walking, pretending not to hear, but my face burned with humiliation. What kind of place was this? A home for gossip?

I got to my office, sat down, and exhaled deeply. The new coworker sitting next to me, tilted her head. “Mia, right?”

I hummed in response.

“I'm Lucia by the way.” she smiled. “Ignore them. The staff lives for gossip.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

Once my shift was over, I was glad the murmurs had died down and the rest were engaged in their work. I returned home exhausted. Adele was painting her nails on the couch.

“We're going out,” she said without looking.

“No.” I retorted immediately. “I'm not.”

“Yes.”

“I’m tired.”

She stood up slowly and walked to me. “You're depressed, best. And that's why you need to go out. Stop wasting your tears over Connor. He's trash.”

I heaved a sigh. “It's not safe.”

“Nothing's safe. That's why we drink!” she chirped. “You just fully resumed work today. The more, the merrier.”

I groaned. “Fine. But just one drink.”

“Deal.”

The “one drink” turned into a night underground.

Neon lights glowed through the place, painting bodies as they swayed to the rhythm of the song playing. They kissed and forgot their names. The smell of alcohol and sex filled the air.

What the heck was this place?

I barely checked the name before Adele forced me inside fully. She was already lost in the crowd, grinding against some guy.

I stayed by the bar, nursing a glass of drink I didn't even like as I watched her.

Then maybe out of frustration or stupidity, I went after her. I couldn't be the only bored one. She was right. Connor's a trash.

The music thumped through me as I swayed my hips. My laugh sounded strange in my own ears.

Then someone grabbed me.

Strong, unyielding.

I slammed into a hard chest that felt like a rock, my drink spilling. I looked up to snap at the bastard. But then my breath stopped when I caught those blue-gray eyes.

Again.

Saint.

His hand still on my waist, almost possessive, his stare colder than the night air.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped, yanking at his grip. The music played loudly, making it harder for the others to hear us.

Saint leaned down to my height, his voice rough against my ear. “I should be asking you that.”

“I'm not your property.”

“Then stop acting like a lost child.”

His tone cut deep, and my heart stuttered.

Slowly, his gaze trailed over my flushed face, my messy hair, the dress clinging to me. I saw something dark flicker in his eyes, jaw flexed.

“Why the fuck are you drunk, Mia?”

I stared up at him, defiant even as my heart raced. “Because of men like you.”