Chapter 2: Escape to Chaos

Chapter 2: Escape to Chaos

(Zara POV)

“Dad…” I called out, my hand pressed against my burning cheek, still trying to process what had just happened.

“I don’t remember raising you this way,” he snapped, his voice sharp with disgust. “How dare you beat her to the point she fainted?”

“I didn’t—”

“Stop lying, Zara,” he cut in harshly. “Do you think I don’t know you? Yes, you had a misunderstanding, but did it have to go that far?”

“A misunderstanding?” My voice trembled despite my effort to stay calm. “Dad… she’s pregnant with my boyfriend’s baby.”

“And so what?” he replied coldly.

For a second, I just stared at him. “Dad…”

“I’ve known for a week,” he continued, as if what I said didn’t matter at all. “They were planning to tell you. You’re still young, Zara. You’ll meet someone else. She’s pregnant now, there’s nothing to be done.”

My shoulders sank slowly, the last fragile piece of hope inside me breaking apart. What exactly had I expected? That he would take my side?

“Please, just let it go,” my stepmother added from the doorway, her tone dismissive. “You shouldn’t waste your time on her. She’s already spoiled.”

“Apologize to Keisha,” my father said firmly, already turning away. “And get your act together, or I will disown you.”

He brushed past me roughly as he walked out, his shoulder hitting mine hard enough to make me stumble. I watched his back as he left, the door slamming behind him like a final verdict.

My legs gave out almost immediately.

I sank to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms tightly around myself. It felt instinctive, like I was trying to hold myself together before I completely fell apart. My chest hurt, my head spun, and yet somehow the tears refused to come.

My phone kept ringing beside me, vibrating endlessly against the floor, but I didn’t have the strength to check it.

I didn’t want to hear another voice. I didn’t want to hear anything.

About thirty minutes later, a loud banging sound shook my door.

“I know you’re in there, you pretty shit!” a voice yelled from outside. “Are you avoiding me so I won’t copy your assignment? Open this door right now! I swear I’m not leaving until I get it!”

Despite everything, something in me softened.

Jane.

I pushed myself up slowly and opened the door before she could continue.

“Jane…”

She stopped mid-rant, her eyes scanning me from head to toe.

“Oh,” she said slowly. “Wow.”

She stepped inside without waiting to be invited, then turned to look at me again, more carefully this time.

“You look like you lost a fight with a bartender,” she added.

A weak laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.

“Seriously?” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to ask what happened first?”

“Oh right, sorry,” she said quickly, straightening up and pressing her fingers dramatically to her temple. “Let me reboot.”

I blinked at her. “What are you doing?”

She inhaled deeply, then gasped. “Oh my God, Zara, what happened to you?”

I stared at her for a second, then laughed properly this time, the sound surprising even me.

“Can you be serious for once?”

Jane dropped the act immediately and sat up straighter, her expression sharpening.

“Okay,” she said. “Tell me who I need to fight.”

“Ryan and Keisha are sleeping together,” I said.

She blinked once.

“She’s pregnant,” I added.

Jane blinked again.

“Oh,” she said slowly. “Oh wow. That’s… a lot.”

“He said I was boring,” I muttered, staring at the floor. “And that he didn’t want to be stuck with a bartender forever.”

Jane’s face darkened instantly.

“That’s insane,” she said. “I swear if I see him right now—”

“And my dad,” I continued, cutting her off, “already knew. He wants me to apologize to her or he’ll disown me.”

Jane stared at me like she was deciding whether to scream or laugh.

“First of all,” she said finally, “bartenders are hot.”

That made me laugh again, a little stronger this time.

“And second,” she added, standing up and grabbing my arm, “you are not spending the rest of the night sitting here like this.”

“I’m not—”

“You look like you got baptized in vodka.”

“Keisha poured a drink on me.”

Jane went still for a second.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Now I really want to fight her.”

"There's something else," I said.

Jane looked at me.

"I heard them talking before I walked in. Ryan said he needed to get to your father, that having his backing would help him land his first contract. He said he was just using me to get closer to him."

Jane went completely still. "He said what?"

"He's been using me, Jane. This whole time."

Jane stared at me for a long moment.

"He must be having a death wish," she said quietly.

Something in her tone made it sound less like a joke and more like a fact.

I shook my head. “Forget it.”

“Nope,” she said brightly. “New plan.”

“What plan?”

“There’s a private party tonight.”

I stared at her.

“Jane…”

“Trust me,” she said, already opening my closet. “You need this.”

“I’m literally covered in alcohol.”

“That’s basically perfume at a party.”

Despite everything, I smiled.

---

An hour later, I found myself standing inside a crowded penthouse, surrounded by music, laughter, and people who looked like they had never worried about anything in their lives.

The air felt lighter here, like the world outside didn’t exist.

I was halfway through my drink when I noticed him.

He wasn’t moving like everyone else. He wasn’t laughing or talking or trying to be seen. He was just standing there, calm and composed, watching.

Watching me.

My breath caught for a second as recognition hit.

I had seen him before. Not in person but in photos. On Ryan’s phone.

Dominic Hale.

Ryan’s father.

“Zara?”

Jane’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

She followed my gaze, then slowly turned back to me with a grin that immediately made me suspicious.

“Oh,” she said. “So that’s what you’re looking at.”

“I’m not looking at anything.”

“Sure,” she said, nudging me. “The tall one by the bar? The one who looks like he owns the entire building?”

My eyes flickered back to him before I could stop myself.

“Wow,” she said. “You got dumped tonight and already upgraded?”

“Jane.”

“I’m just saying,” she continued casually, sipping her drink, “that man is definitely not a college boy.”

“I’m not trying anything.”

“Of course you’re not.”

I looked down at my glass, but my attention kept drifting back to him. Dominic hadn’t moved. He was still watching.

Then, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, he lifted his hand slightly and motioned for me to come over.

Jane gasped softly. “Oh my God. He’s calling you.”

“I can see that.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So are you going?”

I hesitated.

Every logical part of my brain told me this was a terrible idea. This man wasn’t just anyone.

He was Ryan’s father.

Jane leaned closer.

“After everything tonight,” she said quietly, “maybe a terrible decision is exactly what you need.”

I looked at him again. He still hadn’t looked away. And somehow… my feet were already moving.

---

The closer I got, the more overwhelming his presence became.

Dominic Hale was even more imposing up close. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled just enough to reveal strong forearms and an expensive watch. He looked nothing like Ryan.

Not even close.

When I reached him, he gestured toward the empty stool beside him.

“Sit.”

His voice was calm like he was used to being obeyed. I hesitated for only a second before sitting.

“What are you drinking?” he asked.

“Whatever this is,” I replied, lifting my glass slightly.

He glanced at it, then ordered another before turning back to me.

“What’s your name?”

“Zara Cole.”

He repeated it quietly, like he was testing how it sounded. “Zara.”

Then he extended his hand. “Dominic.”

I shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

“You can call me Dom.”

His eyes moved over me slowly, deliberately.

“You look stunning.”

“Thank you.”

He leaned slightly against the counter, studying me.

“You don’t look like you belong here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“You look younger than most people in this room.”

“That’s because I probably am.”

“Are you even old enough to be drinking?”

“I’m nineteen.”

He repeated it quietly, almost thoughtfully. “Nineteen.”

There was something in the way he looked at me that made my skin warm.

“A student?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You work too.”

I blinked. “How did you know?”

“You have that look,” he said simply.

“What look?”

“The kind people get when they’re used to handling everything on their own.”

That caught me off guard. “Yes,” I admitted. “I work.”

“Where?”

“At a bar near campus.”

He nodded once, like that confirmed something.

The bartender returned with my drink, and Dominic pushed it toward me.

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke, but the silence didn’t feel awkward.

“You’re nervous,” he said.

“I’m not.”

“You hesitated before coming over.”

“That’s because you’re a stranger.”

He smiled slightly. “Fair enough.”

He set his glass down.

“Do you dance?”

“Sometimes.”

“Good.”

He stood and held out his hand.

“Come with me.”

I stared at his hand for a moment and I knew this was a bad idea but I took it anyway.

---

On the dance floor, everything felt louder, brighter, sharper.

Dominic’s hand settled at my waist, steady and controlled, guiding me without force. At first, the distance between us felt safe.

Then it didn’t.

His hand shifted slightly, pulling me closer, and my heartbeat picked up in response.

“You’re a good dancer,” he said.

“I’ve had practice.”

“With boyfriends?”

The question tightened something in my chest. “Something like that.”

His gaze lingered on my face for a moment, like he could see more than I was saying.

“You’re tense,” he murmured. “Like you’re trying not to think.”

“Maybe I just don’t trust strangers.”

“You trusted me enough to come over.”

“That doesn’t mean I trust you.”

He chuckled softly.

His hand moved again, resting more firmly against my waist, his thumb brushing lightly along my side. The touch wasn’t inappropriate, but it wasn’t innocent either.

It was deliberate.

His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes. For a moment, Ryan’s voice echoed in my head.

You’re boring.

Standing this close to his father didn’t feel boring.

When the song ended, neither of us stepped away immediately.

Dominic looked at me like he was weighing something.

Then he spoke.

“Zara.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to come home with me?”

My heart skipped.

The question was simple and direct but dangerous.

I should have said no. I knew I should have.

But standing there, with his hand still resting against my waist and his eyes locked on mine, the word refused to come.

Ryan had broken me.

And somehow… this felt like a way to take something back.

I met Dominic’s gaze.

“Yes,” I Said.