Annabelle's Point of View
I woke up with a pounding headache, a sign that I had drunk too much last night. The bed felt too soft, the room unfamiliar as I slowly opened my eyes. The thought hit me: I had a one-night stand with a stranger!
A stranger. A one-night stand. His face was burned into my mind—sharp jawline, piercing eyes, a presence so intoxicating it had drowned my consciousness. My breath hitched as I sat up, clutching the sheet against my chest. What had possessed me? What had I done?
My gaze shifted to the other side of the bed, resting on his muscular physique. I tried to shift my thoughts from him to clear my mind, but it seemed impossible.
His cologne hung heavy in the air, reminding me of last night. I had to leave before he woke up. I picked up my clothes from the floor, which were half ripped apart. He was a beast in bed.
I rushed out of the room without stealing a glance at him. I hated how vulnerable I had made myself, how I had allowed him access to my body.
The walk home was a long one as my body protested with great effort. I could feel pain coursing down my groin as I walked down the alley, my thoughts still circling around him.
"Enough, Annabelle. You don't know him," I muttered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop picturing him—his touch, his eyes, the way his presence had made me feel alive, even if only temporarily.
My jaw dropped as I halted in front of my apartment, my lips widening. My belongings were thrown out of the apartment.
"No, no, no," I whispered, rushing forward.
The door to my apartment was locked, and my landlord, Dick, stood on the porch, arms crossed and looking grim, devoid of any emotion.
"Mr. Dick, what's going on? You said I had two more days!"
"Two days or two hours, you're still late on rent," he said, his voice cold.
"Please, I just need a little more time. I'll get the money, I swear!" My voice cracked, my vision blurred, tears spilling down my cheeks.
But Mr. Dick didn't care. He simply shrugged his shoulders.
"Take your things and leave, Annabelle. I've got new tenants lined up, ones who can actually pay on time."
He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, helpless and humiliated. I swallowed hard, picking up my belongings and walking out to the bar.
I fought hard to get a grip on my emotions, masking the pain I felt with a smile.
Why was fate being so cruel to me? For the past few months I had stayed in the city, I had experienced nothing but loss.
"I'll be right back," I excused myself and rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Tears streamed down my face as I slid to the floor.
I didn't know how long I stayed there, crying and cursing myself over and over again. But eventually, I forced myself to stand. I stared at my reflection in the mirror—red, swollen eyes and cheeks.
"Get it together, Annabelle," I said firmly, splashing water on my face.
When I stepped out, Vanessa was sitting at the bar, a smile plastered on her face.
"Annabelle, you look like you just signed a contract with the Grim Reaper," she said, raising an eyebrow.
I forced a weak smile on my lips.
"I'm fine," I replied.
"Nah, you aren't."
She leaned close to me, resting her hand on mine. Vanessa wasn't just a friend; she was someone I considered my sister. She found me the night I escaped from the hospital, rescued me, and gave me jobs. She had been the only person who stood by me when the world came crumbling down, so why hide it from her?
I opened my lips, trying hard to speak, but the words got caught in my throat, a gasp escaping my lips.
"Take a deep breath," she whispered.
I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath and calming my mind. Once I got a grip on my emotions, I let out my frustration.
She was a good listener. Her gaze softened as she listened to every word I said, taking in every detail. When I finished, she pulled me close to her chest, hugging me for a while.
"You're not staying on the street," she said firmly. "You're coming home with me."
"Vanessa, I can't—"
I didn't want to become a burden to her, but she insisted I stay with her. After she was done taking her daily shots, she walked out of the bar. I felt a wave of relief hit me.
The day passed in a blur, and I rounded up my daily activities. The moon sat in the sky, casting an ethereal glow on the streets, bathing my skin with its soft rays as I made my way to Vanessa's place.
The streets were quiet, the beeping of distant car horns punctuating the air. I walked down the alley, my heartbeat increasing.
I felt like I was being watched by someone lurking in the dark. I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes scanning the surroundings. Nothing, not even a soul.
My grip tightened on my bag, my palms sweaty. I increased my pace, muttering unheard prayers.
Just then, I heard faint footsteps behind me. That alone confirmed my doubt.
"Who's there?" I called out, my voice trembling.
I got no reply, just the loud beating of my heart. I broke into a run, but before I could get far, a hand grabbed me, covering my lips with a towel.
I struggled to break free, but my strength failed. I was too weak to react. Tears streamed down my face as I was blindfolded. The last thing I remembered was the humming of a car engine as it zoomed away.
Cold splashes of water hit my skin, and I woke up with a jolt, my heart pounding. The room where I was kept was dimly illuminated.
Where was I?
I tried to stand, but I couldn't. I was tied to a chair. It was clear that whoever took me hostage had other plans.
"Struggling will do you no good," a feminine voice said in the dark. I wasn't alone—what an assurance.
"Who are you?" I asked, my face pale, fear seeping into my bones.
She clapped her hands in the air, and a blinding light flickered on, revealing her face. She was a blonde with an hourglass shape—the kind of lady you'd see on the front page of every magazine.
"Seline," she replied rudely, a smirk on her lips.
"Seline, get me out of here!" I begged, my lips quivering.
She shook her head slowly, a wild grin still running across her face.
"It's a shame to watch Kyle—the only female to reject the Alpha on the day of his coronation—beg, don't you think?" she asked, walking toward me.
Kyle? Who on earth was Kyle?
"Who?" I asked, confusion mounting.
Her brow furrowed.
"Acting will do you no good. The Alpha will be here in a few days, and trust me… you'll beg for your life," she whispered.
This was a misunderstanding. It had to be. They had clearly confused me with someone else.
"I… don't know what you're talking about. Let me go!" I begged, my tone harsher than intended.
She shook her head, a bold smile running across her lips as she slowly bit her black-polished nail.
"Pretend all you want, Kyle, but bear in mind—you'll soon be dining with a demon; Alpha Ryan!"