CHAPTER 5: THE POISON OF NO

Solange felt a literal snap in the center of her chest as she stared at the heavy oak doors. It wasn’t the metaphoric ache of a breakup. It was a white-hot blade of agony carved through her ribs, twisting around her heart and pulling tight.

She tried to scream, but the air in her lungs had turned to lead. “What did he do to me?” she thought in panic.

Her mind, fueled by years of hearing horror stories in the brothels and the back alleys of the city, went to the darkest place possible. She had heard of men like Alistair Vance: predators who hunted the invisible and the unwanted. Sadists who used girls like her for a single night of twisted pleasure before discarding them in ways that ensured they could never tell the tale.

He poisoned me. The thought pulsed in her brain. He drugged me. He’s a serial killer, and I was just the latest fool.

That had to be it because no “no” from a man, no matter how handsome or powerful, should make a heart feel like it was being fed into a meat grinder.

She felt her stomach roil, a wave of nausea so intense it forced her to crawl toward the bathroom. She barely reached the marble tile before bile burned her throat, and she vomited the little food she’d eaten hours ago.

She lay there, cheek pressed against the cold tile, gasping, every breath a battle, her chest crushed under invisible weight. I’m nineteen, and I’m dying in a penthouse because I trusted a monster.

With shaking, slick hands, she dragged herself toward her bag, feeling like every inch was a mile. Her muscles spasmed, heat radiating from the place he had claimed her even as her mind cursed him.

She fumbled for her phone, not bothering to call 911. because she knew that if the police came, they’d hear the name of the richest man in the state involved with a dishwasher. She would be swept under the rug instead of helped.

She pressed the only speed dial she had.

“Hey, Sol baby, I was just on my way to take over. Thank you for helping me cover my shift.” Her best friend’s voice called out. He paused when he finally noticed the silence with her gasps in the background. “Sol? Are you alright?”

“Cas…” she choked out, her voice a broken rasp. “Help. Please… Sapphire Heights. Room 4002. I… I think I’m dying.”

“Stay on the line! I’m coming now!”

The phone slipped from her hand as she mercifully blacked out, temporarily blocking the tearing sensation in her soul. 

Ten minutes later, the door burst open, startling her awake. Caspian rushed to her, raw terror written across his face as he saw her curled in a ball on the floor.

“Sol! Oh god, Sol!” He dropped to his knees, pulling her into his arms.

As he shifted her, the towel slipped, revealing the marks Alistair had left behind: dark marks on her hips and red imprints around her throat.

Caspian froze, his breath hitching in a way that sounded like a sob, thinking she had been assaulted.

“What animal did this to you?” Caspian hissed, his eyes burning with a murderous light. “I’m calling the police. I’m going to kill them.”

“No!” She snapped, her hand weakly gripping his shirt. “No… Cas, please. No police. Just get me… out of here. Please.”

“Sol, something is obviously wrong with you. I don’t think you can even stand!”

“He was a very wealthy man, and he didn’t assault me, I swear…” she whispered, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “I can’t… I just want to go.”

Caspian froze, swallowing, conflicted. But he loved her too much to deny her. He grabbed her discarded clothes, wrapping her in his oversized hoodie to hide the marks of her shame.

He lifted her, her head lolling against his shoulder as exhaustion finally claimed her.

Caspian avoided the main elevators, taking the service ones meant for the staff.  Every move seemed like agony for her, but he carried her steadily, heart hammering.

At the loading docks, a few early-shift workers hurried to him. Most of them only knew Solange for a few hours, but the way she had been so kind had touched them.

“What happened to her?” a busboy gasped.

“She fell. I need to get her to a hospital!” Caspian yelled, voice cracking.

“Take my car,” one offered, handing him the keys without hesitation. “It’s beat-up but fast. We’ll cover your shift. Go!”

“Thank you,” Caspian choked out, running toward the car.

The hospital’s fluorescent light stabbed her eyes. The smell of sandalwood that she had been dreaming of faded into antiseptic and cotton sheets.

She tried to move, but her limbs felt like lead.

A gentle hand took hers, making her stop struggling, and she turned to see Caspian sitting in a chair by her bed, looking at her with bloodshot eyes, his hair a mess.

“Hey,” he whispered, voice thick. “Thank God, you’re finally awake.” His voice broke, and he cleared it, taking a deep breath. “Nobody could explain what was wrong with you. What did he do to you? Who did you spend the night with?”

“Alistair Vance.”

“Fuck,” Caspian cursed, shock on his face. “He is practically untouchable. How did you even meet him? Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “I would still find a way to make him pay.”

“Calm down,” she whispered, squeezing his hand comfortingly. “I swear he didn’t assault me. He just…” she continued, her voice trembling. “He just used and dumped me.” 

“Oh God,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I thought you stayed away from those kinds of men.”

Solange licked her dry lips, nodding. “I did. It’s just that this one was… I can’t explain it. It's stupid now.” Then she squinted at him, her heart pounding as she noted how rough he looked. “You said ‘finally.’ How long was I out?”

Caspian looked down, shoulders sagging. “Three days, Sol. They said you had a ‘stress-induced cardiac event.’ The doctors couldn’t even explain it. It was like your body just… tried to shut down.”

Three days.

The weight of the words hit her harder than Alistair’s rejection. “Three days? Cas… the exams. That means  SAT was yesterday.”

Cas looked at her sadly.

Solange fell back against the pillows, a hollow laugh escaping her throat. She had juggled three jobs while keeping up with studying for months, just to save every penny for a chance to take those exams. It had been her only ticket out of the shitty life she was living.

Every sacrifice, endless work, the insults she got from fellow street kids because she was trying to get out, the insults from the fellow students because she was a street kid who was older than them attending the classes, every struggle for a future she had dreamed of was gone…. Just because she chose to open her legs for an asshole.

Whatever Alistair Vance had done to her didn’t just break her heart; he had annihilated her future.

“It’s okay, Sol,” Caspian whispered, kissing her hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

“No,” Solange said, her voice colder, harder. She stared at the ceiling, eyes devoid of warmth. “There is no ’figuring it out.’ I ruined my future because I daydreamed of a prince charming to save me like a fool. To think a man like that could have been…” She paused as her voice cracked. “Sol the dreamer is dead.”

Her mind wandered, trying to think why exactly she had reacted that way just because a prick called her dirty and rejected her. Why had he used the words ‘mate’ and ‘bond’? Why had it hurt like something in her chest was tearing apart? She shook her head. None of that mattered anymore.

She turned her gaze to Caspian, a dark, flickering flame of resolve igniting in her chest. “From now on, I’ll use what I have to get what I want,” she said hoarsely. “And one day, I’ll get him.”

Her fingers curled into the sheets, anger boiling beneath her skin. “I don’t know how,” she whispered, voice trembling with promise. “But I will pull him off that high horse of his… and I will destroy him.”