One Night Stand?

                                                                Isabella’s POV:

I had only one option left. I could ask Lucas for help. He’s the last person I can turn to right now. I know you're probably wondering, "Who is Lucas?" Well, he’s the only friend I have. 

“Nanny, I’ll be back soon,” I said, kissing her on the cheek.

“Where are you off to now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m going to see Lucas. Maybe he can help me find a job.”

“Why him? You’re capable enough to do it yourself.”

“Nanny…” I sighed, choosing not to argue further, and left the house.

Nanny always disliked Lucas. She’s always insisted that he’s trouble, but I never believed her. I mean, what would I do without him?

When I got to Lucas's place, I rang the doorbell. He opened the door, looking surprised.

“Isabella? What brings you here?” he asked, curiosity lining his voice.

“Lucas, I need to talk to you about something,” I said, trying to keep calm.

“Alright, come on in.” 

I walked in and sat on the couch, feeling uneasy. He sat across from me, a slight frown on his face.

“So, what’s going on?” he asked.

“Lucas, I need a job,” I blurted out, feeling desperate.

“A job? What happened to the one you had?”

I explained everything—how I lost my job and how things have been falling apart lately. He listened, nodding thoughtfully. Then he smiled—a strange, unsettling smile.

Why is he smirking like that? This doesn’t feel right.

But I couldn’t just leave. I needed help, and Lucas was the only one I could ask.

He got up and sat next to me, way too close for comfort. I shifted away, but he leaned in, placing a hand on my thigh, his other hand toying with a strand of my hair.

“Isabella,” he said, his voice low, “I do have a job for you. But...”

“But what?” I asked, my stomach tightening with dread.

“Nothing in this world is free, Isabella. Everything has a price,” he said, his smirk growing.

“What price? What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to hide the panic rising in my chest.

He leaned in even closer, his hand cupping my face. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Isabella. Since the first day I saw you. But I knew you weren’t the kind of girl I could just get easily. So, I became your friend, waiting for the right moment.”

My heart raced in terror. 

“Isabella, no. I’ve never seen you like that,” I said, standing up quickly.

He stood up too, blocking my path. “Come on, Isabella. It’s just one night. I’ll make sure it’s special for you.”

“Stay away from me!” I cried, backing up against the wall, my hands shaking.

“Isabella, don’t make this harder than it has to be. You need a job, and I can give it to you. Just one night, and it’s all yours.”

“STAY AWAY!” I screamed, tears running down my face.

I tried to run, but he grabbed my arm, yanking me back. My back hit the wall hard, pain shooting up my spine.

“Please, Lucas, let me go,” I begged, trembling.

But he didn’t stop. He was about to kiss me when, in a moment of sheer panic, I kneed him where it hurt. He groaned and fell to the floor, clutching himself. I didn’t waste a second—I bolted for the door and ran as fast as I could.

I could hear him shouting my name, but I didn’t stop. I kept running.

Why is everything falling apart all at once? First, I lose my job. Then that letter. And now Lucas, the one person I thought I could trust.

I found myself in a bar, downing drink after drink. It didn’t take long for me to get drunk.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I muttered, staring at my empty glass. “Why is my life such a mess?”

“You okay?” the bartender asked, his voice sounding far away.

I nodded, laughing hysterically. “I’m soooo okay!”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure? You seem pretty down.”

“You think? My life is a freaking disaster!” I shouted, laughing again.

“Hey, relax,” he said, pouring another drink. “I can help you forget for a night.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?” I slurred, squinting at him.

He slid a drink toward me and added something to it. “Here, take this. It'll help. Afterwards, just head to room 119. You'll enjoy it, trust me.”

I reached for the drink, ready to down it, when someone grabbed it out of my hand.

“What the hell?” I turned to see a man sitting next to me, holding a glass of wine. His eyes were a striking blue, and he had this strong, chiselled look about him—like something out of a dream.

“Are you insane?” he said, his voice hard. “She’s drunk. You can’t just send her somewhere like that.”

I blinked at him, trying to process his words. “Who are you?”

“Someone who thinks you should go home before you get yourself into serious trouble.”

“No! I don’t want to go home!” I whined. “I want to go... there.” I pointed vaguely toward the place the bartender had mentioned.

He sighed, clearly frustrated. “You don’t even know what you’re getting into.”

“Why should I listen to you? You’re a stranger,” I said, wobbling to my feet.

He grabbed my arm as I nearly fell over. “Because I’m telling you the truth. You’re not safe here.”

“Why should I trust you?” I argued, crossing my arms stubbornly.

“Because I’m trying to help you, and you’re too drunk to realize it,” he said, voice tense.

“Who even are you?” I challenged, pouting.

He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Fine. If you won’t listen, then don’t blame me for this.”

Before I could respond, he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder.

“What the hell? Put me down!” I screamed, pounding on his back.

“I warned you. You left me no choice,” he said calmly, walking toward his car.

I kicked and shouted, but he didn’t budge. He strapped me into the passenger seat, ignoring my protests.

“Are you kidnapping me?” I demanded, banging on the window.

“For the last time, I’m helping you,” he replied, starting the car. “Now, where do you live?”

“I’m not telling you!” I pouted, crossing my arms.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Guess you’re coming with me.”

We drove in silence, my head throbbing with every bump in the road. Eventually, we pulled up in front of a huge mansion.

“Come on,” he said, getting out of the car.

I stayed put, refusing to move.

He sighed and walked around, opening my door. “I’m not a kidnapper. Just come inside.”

“Nope. You’re a kidnapper,” I mumbled.

With another frustrated sigh, he picked me up again, carrying me inside. I kept yelling “kidnap” the whole way, but he ignored me, walking straight into a bedroom.

He laid me down on the bed. “Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“I want to go home,” I whined.

“You should’ve thought of that earlier,” he muttered, switching on the air conditioner.

The cool air hit me, and I started to feel drowsy. “Fine, but it’s so hot in here,” I mumbled, starting to unbutton my top.

“What are you doing? Stop it!” he said, grabbing my hands.

"It’s hot,” I protested.

“I’ll fix it. Just go to sleep,” he insisted, turning to leave.

But I grabbed his hand, pulling him toward me. He fell on top of me, and everything went dark.