3

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She had lied about the answers she gave him, ensuring that if he intended to cause her trouble, he wouldn't be able to find her.

How could he know she was lying? Perhaps her fear was too visible, giving her away. To remedy the situation, she summoned her courage and let her hands drop to her sides, attempting to assume a more confident pose.

"I'm not lying," she said, her voice slightly more confident.

"Sit down," he said abruptly, startling her.

"I said, sit down," he repeated forcefully.

Tentatively, she sat before him and folded her hands on the table. Just then, her phone started to ring.

She immediately reached into her bag, sure it was Hilda even without checking.

"I didn't say you could answer," he told her, his eyes narrowing. Her panic rose.

"It's my friend. I'm supposed to meet her outside."

"You'll talk to her after we're finished."

"Please, she might be worried," Boma implored him.

His eyes scrutinized her for a few seconds, while she prayed he would relent.

"Fine," he said finally, his intimidating stare softening slightly. "You can talk to her. Keep it brief and tell her you'll be out in about five minutes."

She resisted the urge to sigh with relief. "Thanks," she mumbled. Then she reached for the phone. When she retrieved it from the bag, it had stopped ringing.

Just when she was about to return the call, it rang again. She answered it quickly.

"Hey," she said, hoping she sounded lively.

"Where are you? I'm outside."

"Please give me five minutes."

"What are you doing? Should I come inside?"

"No need. I'm in the restroom."

Hearing her little white lie, Donovan crossed his arms and leaned back, creating a palpable distance between them. His eyes bore into her with an intensity that made her shift uncomfortably. His jaw tightened, and he gave a deliberate shake of his head, a clear signal of his disapproval. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his authoritative presence, leaving no doubt about his stance on honesty

"Oh, I see. Okay. I'll wait." said Hilda.

"See you," Boma said, her voice almost flat because of Donovan's intimidating reaction to her lie.

After the call, she put the phone back in her bag and managed to return her gaze to Donovan's. He stared at her without uttering a word. Her eyes dropped to his chest as she felt the weight of his scrutiny, leaving her feeling small and intimidated.

"Look at me," he commanded. Reluctantly, she met his gaze.

"Do lies easily come to you?"

She stared at him, confused about how best to respond. She settled for a slight shake of her head.

"Is this the restroom?" he asked pointedly, referring to her lie.

"I didn't want her to worry."

"Hmm. That's understandable, but..." He leaned in, his eyes narrowing threateningly. "In the future, do not attempt to lie to me, alright?"

Boma was taken aback, frightened by his warning, but she felt hopeful they might never cross paths again. She had already given him false information, so he wouldn't be able to find her.

She nodded. "Okay."

He studied her, his aquamarine eyes mesmerizing. Feeling her heart start to beat faster, she let her eyes drop to her lap.

"Look at me," he commanded again.

She obeyed, cautiously meeting his gaze.

"Let's go over your answers," he said. "For your sake, don't lie to me again."

"I wasn't ly—" she began, but he leaned across the table and slapped her across the cheek.

It wasn't hard, but it stung and was enough to bring her into line.

She stared at him, pained and awestruck.

"I said, don't lie to me again. Am I understood?"

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes," she whispered.

He relaxed back against his seat.

"What's your name?"

"Boma."

"Boma who?"

"Braide."

"Faculty?"

"Arts."

"Department?"

"Literature."

As she spoke, a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

"Now that's better," he said, leaning towards her.

She wasn't feeling comfortable. She was drowning in fear. She flinched, shutting her eyes as he reached a hand towards her cheek. She had thought he was going to hurt her again, but she felt his finger gently wiping her wet cheek, so she slowly opened her eyes, meeting his gaze.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, the fear of him now more overwhelming.

"So, Boma." Her name smoothly rolled off his tongue. "Do you have any questions for me?" he asked.

She shook her head at first, then quickly nodded on second thought. She needed to know who she was dealing with.

He rested back in his chair.

"I'm all ears," he told her.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Donovan."

"Faculty?"

"Science."

"Department?"

"Engineering. I am studying petroleum engineering."

She wasn't surprised. She had heard that most of the bad guys were in Engineering.

"Year," she asked.

"Third."

She was disappointed. That meant he still had two years to go since engineering was a five-year course. If he was going to be her problem in the school, then this was a reason to feel disappointed.

As though reading her thoughts, a small smirk formed across his lips. The smirk didn't reach his alluring eyes, emphasizing his daunting handsome looks.

"So I'll be seeing more of you."

Her gaze fell to the table.

"What do you want from me?"

"I like you," he said matter-of-factly. "I saw you sitting there and I just liked you. I want you to be my girl."

She stared at him, incredulous, unable to believe what she was hearing, but he was retrieving a ring from his pocket. It was a silver ring with dots of sparkling blue.

Donovan had held his ring for quite some time, often having it with him as he looked out for the perfect girl who would appeal to him in a deeper sense to the point, he would want her marked with his ring. Finally, here was one.

He sat up again, reaching for her hand, which she withdrew in shock. He met her eyes with a stony gaze that sent her sniffling in her fear of him.

"If I slap you this time around, you will find yourself on the ground and you won't be able to pick yourself up."

Boma reluctantly offered him her trembling hand, and he slipped the ring onto her forefinger.

"Wear that always," he instructed. "It sends a message to whoever cares to know around here that you're taken. It also tells exactly who you're with. Don't let me catch you without it. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Come here." He took her hand, pulling her up to her feet and towering over her. "Give me your phone," he said, but he was already taking it from her. He dialed his line with her phone and saved his number in her contacts under his name—Donovan.

Then he handed it back to her, his eyes meeting hers again as one hand held her by the small of her back, pulling her close to him.

"I—I already have a boyfriend," she said, hoping it would dissuade him from his present decision and further decisions.

His eyes narrowed at her in a threatening manner, sending her chest heaving with fear.

"Pray," he said, emphasizing his words by punctuating them. "Pray that I never catch you with any guy. Is that clear?"

Her response was a fearful whimper.

"I said, is that clear?"

She nodded, another tear falling down her face.

One finger lifted her chin as he looked into her damp eyes.

Damn, she was beautiful. He couldn't resist tasting her lips, so he lowered his head toward hers. She tried to pull away, so he slipped his free hand behind the hairs on the back of her neck, holding her firmly.

Boma couldn't move at his firm hold on her. He had her face already tilted towards his. Then, without warning, his lips came crashing down upon hers, claiming her.

She stood frozen as he kissed her. As the kiss went on, fear still overwhelmed her. At the same time, tiny jolts of desire began to creep over her body, clouding her thoughts.

This was so wrong, her head told her, but her body couldn't move. It had no choice. Still, she reminded herself to refrain from surrendering. He was a brute. He was a bad guy. He was a stranger. He didn't deserve her compliance.

Donovan didn't care about her demeanor. With time, she would submit to him. For now, he just wanted a taste and he was satisfied with what he was taking.

After kissing her to his satisfaction, he released her from his hold. Her eyes looked hazy from the encounter.

"I love how you taste," he told her. "I love that I've chosen well. You can go now. Soon, you will get an orientation about how to be a Point One's girl. Okay?"

She nodded. "Yes." She had no choice. She winced a bit. Her lips felt a bit tender but in a bearable sort of way. Damn, she was in trouble.

"Good," he said dismissively and sat down, watching her turn and walk a bit unsteadily out of his sight. He quietly congratulated himself. She was perfect for him. Donovan picked up his phone and stored her contact—Boma. Then he continued with his drink. He had to celebrate finding her.