Chapter 3: From Heaven to hell

His last words were so heavy it felt physical, like a weight pressing against my chest.

That was clearly a threat! One that sent a cold, biting shiver slithering down my spine.

Beside me, the man I’d effectively hijacked didn't move anymore. He didn't blink. He just sat there with his dark eyes boring into the side of my head as if he were memorizing my bone structure for a future autopsy or something.

I forced a polite, shaky smile, keeping my gaze fixed on the back of the driver's head. I couldn't look at him. If I looked at him, I’d lose the tiny bit of composure I was desperately struggling to hold on to.

"Thank you so much for helping me," I whispered, my voice cracking slightly.

I sounded like a child playing dress-up in this red suit. "You can drop me right there at the junction. I can walk from there."

The air in the car suddenly dropped ten degrees. I didn't need to turn my head to know his eyes had darkened.

I was so fucking done with this game. I was done with this crazy night!

I just wanted my small, quiet apartment and a triple-locked door between me and the rest of this sick world.

The man didn't speak. He didn't even acknowledge my request with a word. He just gave a sharp, terrifyingly calm nod to the driver.

The car rolled to a stop at the junction. The second the locks clicked with a heavy, mechanical thud, I was out. My heels hit the concrete, and for a fleeting moment, the humid night air felt like a sanctuary.

I’d escaped the predator’s cage.

"T-Thank you," I tossed over my shoulder, my voice a desperate attempt at being flirty one last time to save face.

I didn't wait for a reply. I walked away as briskly as I could, half-expecting to hear his heavy car door slam and feel his hand wrap around my throat.

Maybe a dark, stimulated part of me might have loved that... maybe.

I didn't stop until I turned the corner, my heart hammering so loud I thought my ribs might actually snap.

I’d never felt danger like that...something ancient and predatory that made my lizard brain scream "run!"

I made it to my apartment in seconds. I didn't even turn on the lights. I just collapsed onto the floor, still wearing the red suit, and took shuddering, ragged breaths.

I was terrified. But God, I was proud!

For the first time in my life, I hadn't let Selene and Caleb walk over me. I’d fought back. I’d won.

I crawled across the floor, my fingers trembling as I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. I needed to hear a voice that loved me.

"Mom," I whispered when the line connected. "I did it today."

"What did you do, darling? You sound out of breath."

"Selene and her friends... they tried to set me up. They wanted to humiliate me in public." I wiped a stray tear from my cheek, a small, hysterical laugh bubbling up in my throat. "But I didn't let them. I gave them a tongue-lashing they’ll never forget. I told them exactly what they are."

A few seconds of silence made my breath hitch.

"I knew you could do it," my mother’s voice was warm, a balm to my scarred nerves. "It’s about time you whipped those people into shape. I'm so proud of you."

I broke down then. Small, quiet sobs that tasted like pure relief dropped into my mouth.

We talked for an hour about the inheritance, about the way Selene had always been a snake, and how I was finally free of them.

I didn't remember how I got from the floor to my bed that night. I just remember the lingering heat of that stranger's lips on mine, a sensation I tried to scrub away with my sleeve before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

I woke up the next morning feeling like a new woman. For the first time in months, I didn't feel like a victim. Today was a fresh start.

It was a massive day at Blackthorne Conglomerate. We were finally receiving our new CEO, a man who had been a mystery to the staff for months.

I dressed carefully, choosing a crisp white blouse and a pencil skirt that made me feel professional and untouchable.

I spent extra time on my hair, smoothing away any trace of the "red suit" girl from the night before. That girl was a desperate actress. This girl was a career-driven professional.

I arrived at the office early, but the lobby was already buzzing. The air was thick with the scent of expensive floor wax and nervous sweat.

My professional rival, Lucy Grueil, gave me a sharp, condescending once-over the moment I stepped off the elevator.

"You look... refreshed, Ariana," she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "I heard there was quite a show at L’Aurore last night. Something about you throwing a tantrum?"

I raised a brow, meeting her gaze with a coolness I didn't know I possessed. "It wasn't a tantrum, Lucy. It was a funeral for my patience. You should try it sometime."

I joined my team, standing in a neat line as the managers fussed over the floral arrangements and the lighting. The gossip was flying at a mile a minute.

"He’s coming," one of the interns whispered, her face flushed. "They say he’s incredibly handsome. Like he fell straight out of a romance novel. Rich, astute, and completely heartless."

I rolled my eyes. I’d heard it all before. Probably some arrogant heir with a trust fund, a tailored suit, and a lot of cash to burn.

"I heard he’s a beast in the boardroom," another added. "No one survives a meeting with him if their numbers are off."

I slightly recalled the handsome man I’d kissed last night, the way he looked at me like I was a puzzle he wanted to take apart.

The shame flared up in my chest, a hot, prickly heat, and I quickly shook it off. No. That was a ghost.

A stranger in a car I would never see again. I was determined to leave that embarrassing memory on the sidewalk where I’d left him.

Suddenly, the lobby went silent. The idle chatter died as if someone had flipped a switch.

The elevator chimed, and the doors rolled open with a hiss.

My heart didn't just skip a beat this time around; it stopped entirely.

The man who stepped out wasn't a stranger at all.

He was wearing a suit that looked like it had been forged rather than sewn, his dark eyes scanning the room with the cold, predatory precision of a wolf picking out its lunch.

The air in the lobby turned to ice as he walked toward us, his presence so commanding that people actually stepped back to give him room.

It was him!

The man from the car. The man I’d used. The man I’d kissed!

My world fucking crashed.

Lucien Blackthorne wasn't just my new boss. He was the man who'd "lent" me his lips, and from the way his gaze locked onto mine the second he entered the room, he hadn't forgotten a single detail of my face.

And he certainly didn't look like he was here to give me a promotion.