Chapter 2

2.

The next morning, I woke up feeling like I was coming down with something.

My throat was raw and painful.

I checked the time and realized I was going to be late for my meeting with the online date.

I tried to jump out of bed, but a sharp pain shot through my hips.

My legs were weak and trembling, making me feel suspicious of my own body.

I hobbled to the bathroom and checked myself in the mirror.

There were no marks, no bruises―nothing to suggest anything had happened.

I cleaned myself up quickly and headed for the elevator, only to bump into Dr. Sterling.

"Going somewhere in a hurry, Zinnia?"

Foster was always the perfect gentleman―polite, smiling, and incredibly soft-spoken.

His presence usually calmed me down, but today, I felt an odd prickle on my skin.

"I'm meeting a classmate. Are you heading out too?"

We stepped into the elevator together.

"It's my day off," he said smoothly. "I'm heading to a boba shop to relax."

I was surprised. "I... I'm going to the same area."

Before I knew it, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Foster's luxury SUV.

As he leaned over to fasten my seatbelt, I instinctively threw my hand up to shield my face.

I didn't know why, but for a split second, I was terrified of him.

Foster froze for a moment, then let out a soft laugh.

"Are you afraid of me, Zinnia?"

I swallowed hard and shook my head, unable to find the words to explain my reaction.

I turned to look out the window and closed my eyes, but a wave of deja vu hit me like a truck.

I felt like I was being pinned down in this very seat.

In my mind, I saw a man's silhouette looming over me, his movements harsh and demanding.

I could almost feel the phantom pain of him flipping me over, trying to break me.

I snapped my eyes open, gasping for breath, and found Foster watching me.

For a heartbeat, I saw something dark and predatory in his gaze, like a hunter watching his prey.

Then, it was gone, replaced by his usual calm expression.

"Zinnia? Are you okay?"

"I... I'm fine," I whispered, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead.

We arrived at the shopping center, and I parted ways with him to meet my date.

The guy looked like a typical college student, and he told me he knew a quiet place where we could practice dancing.

I followed him without thinking twice.

He led me down a dark alley and into a dingy building filled with thugs and the sounds of muffled groans.

I realized too late that I had been set up.

I clutched my bag tight, pretending to walk up the stairs.

As soon as he turned his back, I swung my bag into his face and shoved him with all my might.

I ran like my life depended on it, ignoring the curses echoing behind me.

I didn't stop until I reached a crowded street, my lungs burning.

The tears finally broke through.

I felt so pathetic and alone in this city.

I've been an orphan for as long as I can remember, and now even a paid date was trying to hurt me.

I slumped against a wall and sobbed, unable to stop the waves of misery.

Suddenly, a car pulled up, and a tall shadow loomed over me.

"Zinnia? Why are you crying here?"

I looked up through blurry eyes. "Dr. Sterling... I... I..."

He was so gentle as he lifted me up and carried me to his car.

I told him everything between broken sobs.

He reached out and playfully flicked my nose, making me blush.

"It's alright. I'll be your date for the mixer this weekend."

"Really?" I asked, hopeful.

He nodded and pulled me into his arms, the movement feeling strangely familiar.

"Really. But you have to promise me you won't cry anymore."

"It's not good for your beautiful eyes."

The scent of his expensive cologne and his soothing voice lulled me into a deep sleep.

Later, I felt a wave of heat wash over me, and I tugged at my T-shirt in my sleep.

Something cold and firm pressed against me, and I found myself leaning into it, craving the sensation.

I let out a soft moan, only to feel a finger press against my lips.

"Zinnia? We're home."

I woke up groggily and realized the sun was already setting.

"I'm so sorry," Foster said, looking genuinely apologetic. "The car broke down halfway, and you looked so peaceful that I didn't want to wake you."

I told him it was no problem, feeling immensely grateful for his help.

"Go on up. I have a few things to take care of."

"See you this weekend."

I stepped out of the car, but as it pulled away, I caught a glimpse of his right hand.

His knuckles were wet, glistening with something that looked suspiciously like saliva.

I stood frozen on the sidewalk until the car disappeared from sight.