4. CHANGES

MAE

After what he had said to me, I pretended to remain calm. But the moment dad was deposited beside me, I got an idea.

I could escape.

There was another man in the front, seated beside the driver's seat.

I heard dad mutter from beside me, "Mae, don't do anything stupid, please.."

Knew me so well, and well enough to know that I would still do whatever I wanted no matter what he said. How could I still trust that this man would spare our lives after watching him kill Liam like that? Kill those men without batting an eyelash?

As soon as the car slowed slightly to navigate a sharp turn, I lunged. My hands shot forward, grabbing the driver's arm and yanking it hard to the side.

The car swerved violently, tires screeching as the driver yelled, "What the fuck?!"

The guy beside him twisted around at once, struggling to get a hold of me.

"Stop the car!" I screamed, clawing at the driver's arm. He cursed, his elbow slamming into my ribs while he struggled to maintain control over the car.

Dad tried to pull me back. "Mae, stop!" he shrieked, his voice frantic with fear.

But I didn't stop. I reached for the steering wheel, hoping to force the car off the road. My fingers brushed it just as the passenger spun back and slammed something into my side—a hard jab of pain that made me cry out and lose my grip.

"You stupid bitch!" The driver shouted, finally righting the car.

The person beside the driver seat turned back toward me, a small syringe in his hand. My breath caught as I realized what was coming.

"No, no—" I tried to push him away, but my arms were seriously hurting from the struggle earlier. I felt the prick of the needle in my neck, cold liquid flooding my veins.

"Mae!" But dad's voice sounded distant, like it was coming from underwater.

I fought to stay awake, my body slumping as the drug took over. My vision blurred and the last thing I saw was Dad's face-pale, terrified-and his voice echoed faintly in my ears.

"Mae, no... please.."

And then, nothing.

***

The pounding in my head was what brought me back to reality. I struggled to focus on my surroundings but I barely could.

The events of the previous night started coming to me after a while, but in fragments, and then the most stupid part replayed over and over.

"Oh God, what was I thinking?" I muttered to myself.

"What were you thinking is right. So surprised the Boss didn't kill you in your sleep. He hates when people try to double cross him."

My eyes peeled open at once at the sound of a female voice, and I turned my neck to the direction of the voice.

A blue-haired girl with fake boobs and probably fake ass too stood there, grinning at me. She had no makeup on, and was gorgeous still. A couple of tattoos spread across her body, making her look even sexier.

Damn.

"I get that a lot. My name is Isis. I get called Sis by everyone, even if I'm nobody's sis. Not even yours."

I nodded with a small smile.

Then unable to help it, I looked around the room. Not to sound pathetic or anything, but I had never been in such a place my whole life.

The room looked like something straight out of a high-end catalog, the kind I would always paint in my drawing books and boards, but never expect to step foot in.

The walls were painted a soft cream, with gold accents along the edges, giving the space a warm, expensive glow. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, dripping with crystals that caught the sunlight streaming through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows.

Two massive beds sat on opposite sides of the room, each with a thick, plush comforter that looked like it could swallow you whole. The sheets were crisp and white, and the pillows were stacked perfectly, like they'd been arranged by a professional.

Was this just for strippers? Had me wondering how his room looked, if people like us were privileged to sleep in such a place.

A velvet bench sat at the foot of each bed, and a matching armchair with a side table was tucked into one corner. On the far wall, a giant mirror with an ornate gold frame hung above a sleek dresser that gleamed under the light.

Between the beds, there was a small, shared nightstand with a crystal lamp on it and a vase filled with… lilies? Sorry, I didn't know my flowers.

This place was was nothing like what I was used to. It was nothing like home.

My eyes drifted to Isis, who was now sitting cross-legged on her bed. "My last roommate bailed," she spoke, breaking the silence. "Got knocked up, decided to keep it. She left in the middle of the night, even after asking me for advice, only to go against it. Bitch."

Her grin faded for a moment, and she shrugged. "Been just me since then. Until they dropped you here last night. Trust me, I am super relieved to have company."

I nodded slowly, taking in the space again, my stomach twisting. This room was beautiful, but I could not stop thinking about the fact that I was here, in a luxurious apartment after leading Liam to his death.

Of course, I did not want to die in his stead, or anyone's stead in that matter, but I still could not shake off the guilt.

"Hey, Isis… Sis.. Do you know where my dad is? I… we were brought here together last night." I asked.

She shrugged, "I don't know. You were dropped off alone. Why would your dad be here?"

I was about to answer that when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in! Not naked or anything—"

The door pushed open to reveal Owen, standing in the middle of two men, and his gaze was focused on me.

But that didn't scare me. What actually did was the gun he had in his hand. I checked for blood but his clothing was crisp and clean, just like last night, after the killing. There had been no single drop of blood on him.

It was like blood was banned from touching his skin.

Maybe it would be the same way with my kill. He would leave here the same way he came, and no one would suspect a thing.

I turned to Isis, and she tried to hide it, but I could tell she was also scared and a tad bit confused.

"Excuse us, Isis. I need to have a word with your roommate." He said, sending chills down my spine.