Chapter 4

His Cuban cigar smoke diffused throughout the room, suffocating the freshness in the air. Bright rays pierced through the slightly opened blinds, giving a glimpse of the court dress hanging on the vintage coat rack. It looked like a normal office with a personal coffee maker. Big enough to fit over thirty people. It could've passed as a decent one, if and only if the alive bodies weren't struggling to get up from the floor.

He stood behind his desk, which was piled with stacks of documents, and faced the large casement. 

"Six men, yet it wasn't enough to catch a girl?" His dangerously calm voice was laced with a tone of threat. 

"We were almost there..." a man said as he fell to his knees. 

"Yes, Chief. We almost had her!" the other echoed.

"Almost?" He turned around and dashed over, grabbing the plump guy by his neck. "What if I tell you that right now... I almost want to kill you?"

"W-We beg... beg for your forgiveness." The man fought to breathe, his face turning purple. 

"You don't deserve it. None of you do!" the Chief exclaimed and hurled his henchman across the room. "I paid for her to be here with me. I bought her.”

He gave a twist to the gigantic vase at the corner. It creaked. The loaded bookshelf turned around, revealing the dark secret behind it.

Clover's photos were all over—from fully covered to strapless and everything in between.

Ogling with his longing eyes, he rubbed his hardened cock against the pictures and moaned. "You have no idea how much I yearn for this day to come. Her neck, the curves of her breasts, her slender legs. I lust for them all."

"We would've succeeded if he hadn't appeared!"

He shifted his attention to the speaking man.

"He?"

"Kyle Lee."

"Ah... The rising star."

***

Clover twitched her brows as faint voices floated to her ears. A warm flood of orange light fell onto her lids. Not bothered by them, she brushed away the itch on her face and stuck her leg out of the cotton blanket to continue her sleep. 

All of a sudden...

"WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOUR BRAIN?!"

Clover jerked awake to see the large picture window above her. The sun was hanging high, surrounded by layers of blue knobby clouds that reminded her of her own home. She sat up straight and pulled her legs to her chest. Her nose crinkled at the sour stench from her plain white T-shirt. She glanced around the room, trying hard to understand whatever she could. Piano keyboard, drum set, acoustic and electric guitars, and multiple award trophies; none of them were of any familiarity to her.

"Where is this place?" she muttered, shaking away the fogginess in her mind.

Anxiety kicked in. Something wasn't right somewhere.

She sprung out of bed at once. 

'Okay, so before coming here, there were the bad men who captured me. Then I met the idol star, Kyle. He helped me, and I succeeded in escaping. After that... What was the last scene before I passed out? Hmm... the last scene... The last scene before everything turned black...'

She snapped her fingers. "Oh, God."

"ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS?!"

The scream came through, breaking her train of thought. A commotion was going on outside. Too loud for her to ignore. Stretching her arms apart like she was walking on a thin stick, she tiptoed to the door—eavesdropping.

"She can just disguise herself as one of my makeup artists. What's the big deal?"

It was Kyle's voice.

"Do you really think your fans wouldn't notice you're keeping a girl in your house?”

Brandon.

"Why are you sounding as though she's my scandal? She's just a mere girl who faced trouble yesterday. All I did was lend a hand. You helped her too!”

"Yes! I helped her so that she could get on with her own life without disturbing yours!"

"She isn't disturbing my life. Look, I'm still here, perfectly fine in front of you!"

"W-What's wrong with you, Kyle? Why are you taking her side when you know nothing about her? Count yourself. How many events have you skipped because of her?"

"You know my principle, Brand'. Girls are never meant to be exposed to any kind of danger."

She heard sighs. More than once certainly. And no more replies after that. Soon, the sound of slow and heavy footsteps coming in her direction floated across the air. 

'Crap!' Her pupils shrank. 'What should I do? Hide? Stay? Sleep?'

But it was already too late to hide and too nerve-wracking to stay. Third choice—sleep! She ran back to the bed and pulled the blanket over her face just in time before she was busted for having woken up.

The sliding glass door squeaked open. Someone was entering. While she was guessing who the person was, the jingling of the rock and roll bracelets and the faint minty smell gave her an answer.

"What's your name?" He dragged over a stool and sat next to the bed. 

'He knew I was awake...?'

"I wonder what's your name..." Kyle repeated. But this time it sounded more like a mumble than a question.

He pulled the edge of the blanket, revealing her sleeping face. Clover held her breath, and butterflies in her stomach fluttered violently when he took her hand. Her heart was pounding so hard against her chest that she was afraid he might hear the beats. 

"Mom is gonna be so proud of me if I tell her that I saved a girl from becoming a sex slave, don't you think so?" He reached out to touch her pinkish cheeks. "But how and why did you end up like this? What happened to your family? Where are they?”

As he spoke, he started removing the bandages around her wrists, which she wasn't aware of. Like an expert, he dipped a cotton bud into the Dettol solution and applied it to her wounds. The scars weren't anywhere close to healing, but the blood had stopped leaking, at least. The remaining gauze roll fell to the polished porcelain tiles. He watched it unfurl and wasn't bothered to pick it up.

"What am I going to do about you?" He heaved a sigh, burying his face in his folded arms on the queen-sized bed. "Can I send you back to the airport so you can return to where you belong? Will you be all right if I do so? Will the men hunt for you again the moment I leave you alone?”

Tons of questions, but zero answers.

"I made a promise... a promise..." His voice trailed off.

Clover opened her eyes slightly, taking a peek at him. He didn't notice anything; it was partly because she was too scared to even breathe properly. She remained still until he made his first soft snore.

'Ah... Ouch...' She pushed her body to sit up.

The blanket on her flopped to the floor all of a sudden as she stretched to ease her numbness. She froze, waiting for any extra noises to be heard.

Luckily, there was none. Kyle was still asleep. She thought of moving him to a better position for rest. But on second thought, she probably wouldn't be able to do it the way she wanted. Worse come to worst, she might just tumble on him, and he'd wake up thinking that he shouldn't have saved her.

Hence, instead of doing anything else, Clover casually dropped the blanket over him and reached for the door.

"So you're up," Brandon said as soon as she stepped out. He was sitting on the couch in his loungewear, munching on a can of Mister Potato Crisps. "After a day and a half."

"A day and... a half?"

"Yea... Wait," he paused, sparing a glance at his G-shock. "To be more exact, it has been 38 hours, 45 minutes, and 55 seconds since you were brought here."

Clover parted her lips to speak but was interrupted. 

"Kyle is the kind of guy that cannot stop himself from meddling in matters that are related to weak girls, like you. So please don't think he has a crush on you or something like that."

"I understand. He's a nice guy."

"Of course. And it's good that you know." His tense shoulders loosened a little. "So when are you leaving?"

"Leaving?"

"Well... You gotta know that we aren't some sort of charity organization." He shrugged. "Helping people in need just isn't our responsibility."

Exactly. Brandon was right. What was she expecting? She didn't even belong here in the very first place.

"I'll—"

"Who said she's leaving?" someone cut in.

Kyle.

"I thought I said she's going to work in my studio?" His voice was stern.

Brandon took a step forward and wanted to argue. But the solemn expression on Kyle's face made him swallow back all his words.

Gentleness took over as he turned to look at her. "Don't worry about him. What's your name?" he asked.

Clover was shocked. From the corner of her eye, she could see Brandon stomping his foot. He winked at her when she looked at him. He did it so much that it almost looked like he was suffering from a stroke. She knew what he was signaling. But at that moment, she chose to ignore it. She needed to leave indeed. But perhaps slightly later wouldn't cause much harm either. 

After all, she had nowhere to go but here.

"Clover Hon, my name." She smiled. "Seventeen this year."

"Very well. Listen here, Clover Hon. Right now, starting from this moment, you're my personal assistant." He grinned, displaying his perfectly aligned teeth.

"Personal... assistant?" she repeated, her eyes dancing in shock.

Brandon choked, spitting out the potato chips in his mouth. He flashed an intense glare at Kyle while clearing his throat.

Ignoring his manager, he tossed her a set of female clothes. "Bear with these first. You'll be following me for my events starting tomorrow.

"B-But—"

Kyle turned her around and pushed her back to the room to rest. "It's set. You just regained consciousness. Don't worry too much about this."