Chapter 2

Elara's POV

My heart clenches with each thud as the footsteps draw closer to the door. Sprinting to my feet, I hide the wallet in my bag and rush towards the bed, lifting the covers and sprawling against Lorenzo.

His broad body takes up much space as he's lying in the middle, so I have to lie on him. His body feels surprisingly cold, and if not for the warmth of his breath against my forehead, I would think he is a corpse.

My eyebrows furrow as my mind erupts in thoughts: could it be the effect of the drug? But the packet says only headache and slight dizziness may occur as side effects, and that would only be when the person wakes up.

A loud knock on the door breaks through my train of thought, my eyes widening while my heart feels like it's about to explode. "Lorenzo! Lorenzo, you in there? I know you're having fun and all, but it's just 15 minutes to cake cutting, so hurry your ass up."

My breath hitches, and I feel sweat trickling down my skin. The man outside expects us to be... Oh my goodness... what do I do? Suddenly, a brilliant idea pops into my brain, and I take in a nervous breath as I prepare to act.

One. I start counting in my head as I will myself to do something I'd never think I would do. Two. Three. Go.

"Ugh, ahh, harder! Yess, harder, Lorenzo, hmm, I love you so much. Ugh, yess!" I scream out, my face flushing a deep shade of crimson.

"Wow, Renzo, aren't you a fast guy? Show her who's boss, man. And why aren't you groaning?" The stupid man outside asks, making my eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

I quickly think of a solution. "Your friend loves being gagged. So please leave us alone, let us have our fun. Come back in 10 minutes, I'll be done by then!" I exclaim, praying that he buys the lie while I continue my fake moaning.

I hear a loud chuckle. "Ok, babygirl, give that boy the real birthday gift. I'll be back in 10. But," he adds, making me groan. Just go away so I can escape already. "Don't ride him too hard, you could become his favorite plaything, and he'll never let you go."

What? Well, it's a good thing I'm not riding him at all. He can dream of it if he wants.

The jerk at the door finally leaves, his footsteps echoing down the silent hallway. I scurry out of the bed, missing the feeling of Lorenzo's body against mine. I pick up my bag and quickly move towards the door, opening it and glancing down the hallway to make sure nobody is around.

I speed walk down the hallway, my heart drumming loudly in my chest while I try to act nonchalant. I am almost at the staircase when I bump into a man who is turning the corner.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, keeping my gaze on the floor.

He doesn't answer but brushes past me as he makes his way towards the room I just came out of. What the hell? It's ten minutes already?

I hear him bang on the door, the sound loud enough to wake any sleeping person—just not Lorenzo. I chuckle lowly at the thought. However, my joy is short-lived as I reach the staircase. Heavy footsteps are banging loudly against the stairs as numerous men in black suits with guns drawn rush up the stairs.

The party turns into total chaos as two gunshots go off. I duck down, as do many others, while others scramble to get away. A loud voice shouts out a command, "Find me that girl if you don't want to face Mr. Russo's fury!"

My palms grow sweaty, fingers trembling as the hairs on my skin rise in alarm. My eyes dart around the hall, searching for an escape route. Nothing.

Every door has been shut; at least five guards stand around the hall, while four others start moving into the crowd, lifting up every female's face with the barrel of their guns.

Shit, shit, shit. I can't get caught. I need to escape. But how?

Just then, my wandering eyes catch a glimpse of an open window on the left side of the glamorous hall. The window is closer to me than it is to the guards; I know I can make it. I quickly take off my heels, placing them behind the pillar at my side. Maybe I can become the next Cinderella.

I press my lips into a thin line, my eyes calculating the movement of the guards. They're still a little distance from me, thanks to the numerous women present at the party. I leap up, jumping above the people kneeling, and to the window I go.

"Hey, stop! That's the girl! Get her!" The window is not too tall, allowing me to jump effortlessly into the soft green grass outside, feeling the night dew rub against my feet. The chilly night breeze causes me to shiver as goosebumps spread across my skin like wildfire.

Ignoring the hollers of the men behind me as more join the chase, I run. Faster than the wind and down the dark street, the sound of footsteps hitting along the stony pavement behind me. At a certain point, I no longer hear anything but the gloomy silence of the dark night.

Spotting an alley around the corner, I sprint towards it, ignoring the pounding of my heart as it pumps hard against my chest. There are some old boxes and furniture, signifying that I'm in someone's territory.

I wouldn't like it if someone went into my own territory under the little bridge where I reside, so as a means to offer an apology for trespassing, I dig into Lorenzo's wallet, taking out three hundred-dollar bills and dropping them on the table. Hopefully, this can help this person get through a few days.

I no longer hear the sound of my pursuers' footsteps, making me feel relieved that they could have gone back. I still sit quietly, basking in the silence in my hideout.

But the silent atmosphere is disturbed by a loud rumble of thunder, which causes me to jump in fright. As a result, my hand hits an old silver cup on the table, causing it to hit the ground with a resounding clang. I clench my eyes shut, hoping nobody heard.

Against my luck, the footsteps stop. "Did you guys hear that?" Oh shit. It's the guards.

"Dean, go check it out," a deep, cold voice commands. Tension coils in my stomach as anxiety grips me like a leech. The man—Dean—saunters toward my hideout, his hand placed on his weapon. With every step he takes, my breath hitches in my throat as my miserable life flashes before my eyes.

Just when I'm reliving my best memories, the stranger standing just mere centimeters from me, a deep guttural voice rings out...

"What the fuck is going on here?"