Chapter 008

Camila stumbled slightly as she pushed through the crowded bar, the whiskey coursing through her veins. She wasn't drunk, not yet, but the liquor had taken the edge off, making her feel more relaxed, more carefree, like a bird free from its nest. She slipped her phone into her leather jacket, the screen glowing with the confirmation text from her driver. He'd be waiting outside, ready to take her wherever she wanted to go.

As she stepped out into the cool night air, Camila felt a sense of liberation wash over her. The music and laughter of the bar faded into the background, replaced by the hum of the city. She still didn't know why she chose Australia but was glad she did.

Taking a deep breath, she strolled to the car with her boots clacking chaotically and disorganized.

As she turned a corner, she saw her driver waiting patiently by the car, a sleek black sedan that seemed to blend into the shadows. She smiled to herself, feeling a sense of comfort, of security, knowing that she had a safe ride home whenever she was ready.

"Take me home, Ethan. I'm exhausted," she said, her voice slightly slurred as she slipped into the backseat of the sedan.

"Which home, Miss, the villa or the beach house?" the driver asked, and Hazel waved her hand casually.

"Take me wherever I came from."

Ethan's eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, and he raised an eyebrow. "Mexico, Miss?"

Camila's expression turned glacial, and she shot Ethan a warning glare as she muttered, "The villa, Ethan. Just take me to the villa."

"Alright, villa, here we go."

The engine roared to life, and the sedan glided smoothly into the night, the city lights blurring together outside the windows. Camila settled back into her seat, feeling the tension in her body begin to ease.

But suddenly, the sedan jolted to a stop, throwing Camila forward. She let out a blood-curdling scream, holding her head protectively, the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass echoing in her head. Images were flashing in her mind.

"Miss Hazel, are you okay?" Ethan's voice was calm and steady.

But Camila wasn't okay. She was frozen in terror, her mind racing back to the past, to the accident that had changed her life forever. She felt herself being pulled back into the nightmare, reliving the trauma that she thought she'd left behind.

As the reality of the situation hit her, Camila's hysteria took over, her heart hammering in her chest. "NOOOO! NOT AGAIN! PLEASE, NOT AGAIN!"

Ethan's voice was a distant echo, trying to calm her down, but Hazel was beyond reason. She was trapped in her own personal hell.

"Miss, miss..."

Ethan's voice was now audible. She felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her back to reality.

"Miss, it's okay. It was just a minor hit."

Camila's eyes slowly focused on Ethan's concerned face, his voice piercing through the fog of her hysteria. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart and trembling hands.

As she looked around, she saw that their sedan had suffered only minor damage, a small scratch on the front bumper. But it was a different story for the car Ethan had run into. Its front end was crumpled, the hood buckled.

Ethan released his seatbelt and quickly got out of the car to approach the other driver.

Meanwhile, Camila's mind was a little foggy, still trying to process what had happened. She looked ahead; the driver of the other car was getting out, his movements economical and controlled.

Despite Camila's slight disorientation, she couldn't help but notice how tall and imposing he was, with a chiseled jawline and piercing Camila eyes that told you, "You're in trouble."

As he approached Ethan, his expression was unreadable, but Camila could sense a simmering anger beneath the surface.

"Looks like you're at fault here," he growled, his voice thick with a British accent. "You'd better have insurance because this is going to cost you."

Ethan stood his ground, his expression calm and apologetic. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll take full responsibility for the accident."

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Why don't we exchange information and let our insurance companies handle it?"

The stranger's expression didn't change, but Camila could sense a slight relaxation in his posture. "Fine," he said curtly. "Let's get this over with."

Ethan nodded and pulled out his phone. Meanwhile, Camila watched the stranger, fascinated by his intimidating presence. Despite his anger, he seemed to be in control.

As the minutes ticked by, Camila's foggy mind began to clear, and she realized that she needed to get out of the car and assess the situation. Still shaken, she finally managed to push open her door and step out of the car.

The stranger's eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. The anger in his eyes didn't lessen, but something shifted—a flicker of surprise? Confusion? His expression was hard to read. He took a step closer, and Hazel instinctively took a step back, her heart beginning to pound again. He looked her up and down, his eyes lingering for a moment too long. For the first time in a long time, Hazel felt like she was being scrutinized like a specimen under a microscope.

"I'm... sorry... about... this," she trailed off, a scowl spreading on her face. "Why are you staring at me like that? It's not gentlemanly at all."

"Are you drunk—" he cut her off, but Camila fired back.

"Excuse me? I'm not drunk, I'm just... shaken. Okay?" She crossed her arms, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

The stranger's expression didn't change, but he raised an eyebrow. "Shaken?" he repeated. "You're slurring your words and stumbling around. You're either drunk or... something else."

Camila's scowl deepened. But before she could speak, he interrupted.

"If you were driving, I'd have every right to sue you for damages," the stranger said, his voice firm. "In fact, I'd likely press charges against you for driving under the influence."

"But I wasn't driving, so can we drop that?" Camila spat, trying to regain her composure, and this man, this imposing stranger and his accusations, was not helping.

He didn't back down. "Regardless," he continued, his British accent even more pronounced now, "you were in the car. And your driver, whoever he is, just crashed into a rather expensive vehicle, I might add." He gestured toward his crumpled front bumper with a hint of dramatic flair. "So, while you may not have been behind the wheel, you're still involved, so don't repeat that tone with me."

Camila frown. She wanted to reply with something feisty, but decided against it. She has had enough trouble for one day.

"No need to get your undies in a twist. It was an accident. These things happen." She said, her hands on her hips. "And by the way, I don't appreciate the tone. I'm not some kind of reckless passenger who's responsible for the accident. Ethan's a great driver, and this was just a mistake."

Camila turned to Ethan. "What's taking you so long? Let's just exchange information and be done with it."

Ethan, who had been quietly observing the exchange, spoke up, handing the paper to the stranger. "Here's my insurance information, sir. I've already reported the accident to my company, and they'll be in touch with you shortly."

The stranger glanced at the paper, then back at Camila. "We'll see about that," he said and tucked the paper into his pocket.

"In the meantime," he added, his gaze lingering on Camila. "I suggest you get yourself some coffee. Or perhaps something stronger. You seem… distressed." He turned and walked back to his car, his movements fluid and controlled, leaving Hazel standing there, fuming.

Who did he think he was to talk to her like that?

She exhaled in exasperation, and turned to Ethan.

"Who the hell is that guy?"

"You mean you don't know him ma'am?" Ethan asked surprised, as he slipped into the car. "That's Antonio De La Cruz."