As Michael's bodyguard, a formidable presence, forcefully guided Dahlia towards the car, Abel felt his anger boil within him. He tried to intervene, standing between Dahlia and the vehicle, but he was overpowered by the sheer strength and intimidation of the bodyguard.
"Dahlia, don't go with him," Abel pleaded, desperation in his voice. "We can figure this out together. You can't just leave like this."
Dahlia, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions, made an attempt to resist, but her physical strength paled in comparison to the bodyguard's might. She found herself inside the car, and all she could do was look back at Abel with a mixture of regret and helplessness.
Abel, standing in the wake of the departing car, felt a whirlwind of emotions – anger, frustration, and a deep sense of powerlessness. Michael had taken Dahlia away from him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
As the car pulled away, Michael paid for any damages or inconvenience caused, and the sense of finality settled in. The road ahead was uncertain, and the fate of Dahlia, Abel, and Michael remained entwined in a web of emotions, secrets, and complex choices.
Abel stood there for a while, the sound of the departing car's engine fading into the distance. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Dahlia, the woman he'd grown so close to, had been taken away by Michael, a man who seemed to have a strong hold on her.
Thoughts swirled in his mind, and questions buzzed like an incessant fly. Why did Dahlia go with Michael? What hold did he have over her? And most importantly, was she going willingly or out of obligation?
He tried calling her, but there was no answer. It was as though Dahlia had vanished from his life, leaving him with more questions than answers. Abel couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease, a gnawing worry that something wasn't right.
Meanwhile
In the luxurious suite of one of Michael's hotels, Dahlia sat on the edge of the grand bed, her thoughts in turmoil. The extravagant surroundings and stunning view from the penthouse couldn't distract her from the aching void that Abel's absence had left.
As the evening sun cast a warm, amber glow across the room, a lavish dinner had been set for two. Michael sat at the opposite end of the dining table, watching Dahlia with an unreadable expression.
"Dahlia, you really should eat," Michael said, his voice calm and persuasive. "You need your strength."
Dahlia shook her head, her appetite gone. She had no appetite for this elaborate feast, no matter how delectable it appeared. "I'm not hungry."
The truth was, she longed for a simple meal shared with Abel, where their conversations flowed naturally, and the atmosphere was filled with warmth and laughter. Now, the thought of food tasted bland without the company she desired.
Michael observed her for a moment, his eyes assessing and calculating. "Dahlia, you know I care about you, right?"
Dahlia looked up at him, uncertainty in her eyes. "I know, but..."
"But what, my dear?"
"Abel... I just left him. I didn't even get to explain anything. He must be worried sick."
Michael leaned back in his chair, his tone more understanding. "I understand that you care for him. But you have to trust me, Dahlia. I believe it's time you leave your old life behind. With time, you'll come to appreciate the world I can offer you."
Her heart felt heavy, torn between her feelings for Abel and the intriguing yet intimidating life Michael represented. For now, she would remain, but the memory of Abel's warmth and understanding would linger, reminding her of the bond she had left behind.