Chapter 2 Mistaken For A Thief

Roselyn twisted her wrist, trying to break free, but before she could even brush the door handle, Nathan yanked her into his arms. With a sharp pivot, he shoved her back against the seat, trapping her beneath him.

"Sir, what are you doing? Please—don't do anything foolish. I don't want your fare now!" Roselyn stammered in panic as she tried to wriggle off his arms.

"I'll make it worth your time if you help me." With what little composure he still had, Nathan slid a gold bank card from his pocket and held it just above her head.

Her instincts screamed to turn him down, but the card's gleam flashed like a cruel reminder—her grandfather lying in the ICU, the hospital fees looming like a shadow. She swallowed hard and gave in.

Thankfully, Nathan was unnervingly attractive, with a face so refined it looked sculpted—easily the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.

The heat building inside Nathan refused to stay contained. Roselyn's soft body pressed against him, feeding a hunger that snapped his restraint entirely.

Roselyn knew nothing of intimacy. Her first encounter left her with nothing but intense memories of pain.

Beneath the trees, the white sedan rocked gently under the silver glow of the moon, like a lone vessel adrift on a quiet sea.

She cried out more than once. Each time she believed he'd finished, he surged forward again, relentless in his rhythm. He didn't seem to tire.

By the final round, she couldn't even scream. Her throat had given out, raw from pleading.

Drifting between wakefulness and sleep, she vaguely heard him on the phone. But soon, sleep pulled her under.

The morning breeze slipping in through the cracked window nudged her awake.

"It hurts," she whispered, the words barely forming.

Flat on her back in the car, her aching body reminded her with brutal clarity just how unreal the night before had been—entangled in the arms of a stranger.

Snapping to attention, she remembered the card. She shot upright and scanned the back seat.

There it was. The gold card lay beside a note that read, "No password required."

Clutching the card, she sat up straight, trying to process the reality of spending the night with a stranger. She couldn't tell if she should laugh or cry.

Her phone shrilled, cutting through the silence. It was the hospital again, demanding payment.

Steeling herself, she opened the door. The moment her feet hit the ground, a jolt of pain tore through her legs, almost buckling her knees.

Grumbling Nathan's name under her breath, she limped to the driver's side, wincing with every step. She snapped on her seatbelt, tossed her phone onto the dashboard, and drove away—leaving behind the forest she never wanted to see again.

Nathan had been scheming against her since the moment he set foot in her car.

She had never encountered someone so brazen.

Back at her apartment, Roselyn showered off the night, slipped into fresh clothes, and headed straight to the hospital to settle the bill.

Thirty minutes later, feeling refreshed, she arrived at the hospital's billing counter. But as soon as she swiped the gold card Nathan had given her, the bank quickly alerted certain personnel. What she didn't know was that the card had already placed her under covert surveillance.

After making the payment, Roselyn planned to visit her grandfather. But as she stepped out of the building, a commotion ahead grabbed her attention. Three luxury cars were parked neatly in front, their distinctive license plates unmistakably identifying their owners as individuals of wealth and status.

Hoping to avoid any trouble, she intended to pass by the vehicles and head to the inpatient department.

Sebastian Brown, the President's Chief of Staff, approached Roselyn with calm, respectful composure. "Excuse me, are you Miss Roselyn White?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "I am."

"Our superior would like a word with you, Miss White. Please, come with us," Sebastian, after confirming Roselyn's identity, said.

Roselyn bristled. She didn't know this "superior" and had no interest in meeting him. But Sebastian, already anticipating her refusal, held out his phone. On screen was security footage of her using the bank card.

"If you want to see your grandfather again, you'll get in the car. Otherwise, I'll have to report you for theft. And if you're charged, well, it could be a long time before you're allowed near him again," Sebastian said, his smile still intact.

Roselyn didn't need more explanation. Her freedom—and her grandfather—hung in the balance.

Nathan's promise echoed in her memory. Her chest burned with a mix of shame and fury.