Chapter 5

• Scarlett's POV
• It was like he saw nothing else in the room, just me.
• His stare was magnetic, commanding, and terrifying. The possessiveness in his eyes made my skin crawl.
• I wanted to take my eyes off him, to look elsewhere, but I couldn't. It was as though I was trapped. I couldn’t move.
• Just then, my mind began to spin as images of that night flashed before me like a broken movie reel.
• The room, his voice, his accusations, the sex. I had convinced myself it was all a bad dream, something my overactive mind had cooked up. But now? Seeing him standing there, walking towards me step by step—I didn't think it wasn’t a dream.
• I wasn't sure, but… there was this nagging feeling.
• My legs felt weak as I stood, trying to back away, but before I could make it two steps, Liam DeLuca was standing right in front of me, towering over me.
• His presence was suffocating, the scent of something dark and musky filling the space between us.
• He looked me up and down, taking in my outfit—a fitted top and skirt that suddenly felt way too tight and way too short.
• His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding audibly. “Scarlett,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “I gave you seven days to find my child. And you… you came here? To a bar? To mess around?"
• My pulse pounded so loudly in my ears I could barely hear anything. His words felt like a slap, and in that moment, I realized with sudden clarity that whatever happened that night wasn’t just a bad dream.
• It was real. That night had been real. The accusations, the sex. He was real. And he… the man who had raped me, was standing right in front of me.
• “Oh God.” I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with fear.
• “I…I… What...what are you talking about?” I stammered, trying to back away, but his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist in an iron grip.
• “Don’t play dumb,” he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Do you think I’m stupid? Or are you just testing me?”
• I shook my head. “No, you’ve got the wrong person. I don’t know you! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
• I couldn't bring myself to accept that the dream had been real. I had to keep reassuring myself that it was just a dream, because the thought of it being real scared the hell out of me.
• He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Still lying?” he said, his tone mocking. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that.”
• Fear gripped me, and I tried to pull my wrist away from his grip. "I have to go," I blurted, turning towards the exit. But his hand didn't budge, instead his grip tightened and he was hurting me.
• "You have to go? Where the hell do you think you’re going?" he said, his tone cold and commanding.
• "Let me go!" I yelled, pulling at his hand, but he still didn’t budge. My voice rose in desperation, and I called out, "Help! Somebody, please help me!"
• The room went still. Conversations stopped, and all eyes turned towards us. But no one moved. Not a single person came forward.
• They all just stood there, frozen, like they knew exactly who Liam was and didn’t dare interfere. And to worsen the situation, his bodyguards stood like statues, blocking the exits.
• Hannah, who had been chatting with someone at the bar, finally noticed what was happening. Her face went pale as she hurried over. "Scarlett?" she asked, her voice shaky. Then she looked at Liam, and her eyes widened in recognition. "Wait, you’re…"
• Her voice trailed off, and I saw the fear flash across her face. She knew him. Everyone seemed to know him.
• Liam DeLuca, the godfather of some gang, Europe’s biggest mafia—at least that was what Hannah had told me earlier today in class.
• I had never really believed it. Until now.
• Hannah swallowed hard but stepped closer. "Excuse me," she said, trying to sound brave. "This is my roommate. Do you two… know each other?"
• I seized the moment, desperate to get out of this nightmare. "Call the police!" I shouted. "Please, I don’t know this man!"
• Liam’s cold glare turned towards her, and she froze under his gaze. “Stay out of this,” he said calmly, though the threat in his voice was clear.
• “Please, Hannah, you need to call the police!” I shouted again, gripping Hannah’s hand. “I really don’t know this man! I've never met him before.”
• Liam’s eyes snapped to mine, furious. "Scarlett," he growled, his voice like a warning. "Don’t push me."
• Hannah hesitated, torn between helping me and the very real danger standing in front of her. Before she could make a choice, Liam turned to his men and gave a small wave of his hand.
• It was all it took.
• The men started to move quickly and ushered the crowd out with alarming efficiency. Protests and whispers filled the room, but no one dared to resist.
• "No," I begged, my voice breaking. "Don’t do this! Please!"
• The men didn’t stop. One of them suddenly placed a firm hand on Hannah's arm, guiding her towards the exit. "Get out," he said, his tone flat but final.
• Hannah struggled for a moment, looking back at me with wide, terrified eyes. "Scarlett…"
• “Hannah!” I cried, panic rising as she was pulled away. “Don’t go. Please!”
• “Scarlett!” she called back, her voice fading as the door slammed shut behind her.
• And just like that, she was gone. Everyone was gone. The bar was empty except for me, Liam, and his men.
• Liam turned back to me again, his expression unreadable. He let go of my wrist, but I didn’t dare move.
• My legs felt like jelly, and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst.
• “You’ve made a mess of things,” Liam said, his voice surprisingly calm.
• “Please, just let me go,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “Why… are you doing this?.”
• He tilted his head, studying me like I was some puzzle he couldn’t figure out. “You really thought you could run from me?”
• “Please,” I begged, my voice breaking. “Please, just let me go.”
• He leaned in, his face inches from mine. “Not until we finish what you started.”
• The words sent a chill down my spine as the memory of the sex flashed in my mind. “No,” I whimpered, my voice barely audible. “Please, no.
• He smirked, his eyes gleaming with something dark and dangerous. “So, Scarlett,” he said, his tone casual but laced with threat, “do we pick up where we left off?”