A Violent Escape

The bus ride back home felt longer than usual. The constant hum of the engine did little to quiet Clara's racing thoughts. In her hands, she clutched the thick packet of documents Natalie had given her, the paper rough against her cold palms. The numbers Natalie mentioned kept flashing in her mind like neon signs. The high daily rate for appearing on the new dating reality show was hard to ignore, and the potential bonus for strong viewership was even more tempting. With her uncle’s health failing rapidly and her sudden unemployment, the prospect of earning millions was a financial lifeline she desperately needed. Her uncle had cared for her for years; now, it was her turn to save him. She was ready to accept the offer without hesitation.

When the bus finally stopped near her neighborhood, Clara stepped off and walked toward her building. The alleyway was dark and quiet, illuminated only by a flickering streetlamp. As she approached the entrance, her thoughts were cut short.

Tristan Hayes stood leaning against the cracked brick wall. He had his hands in his pockets, a smug grin plastered on his handsome face.

"Clara! I've been waiting for you," he said, stepping into her path.

"Why are you here?" Clara asked, her voice tight with exhaustion.

Without her thick, black-rimmed glasses, her eyes were clear and bright under the dim lights. She looked different, stripped of her usual quiet, reserved demeanor. Tristan stared at her, caught off guard by how striking she looked without her usual disguise. He grinned wider, clearly enjoying this new side of her.

"I have something important to tell you," Tristan said, his voice lowering as he stepped closer. "Come with me right now."

He reached out to grab her hand. Clara immediately pulled back, her eyes narrowing. "Tristan Hayes, what do you think you're doing? Let go of me!"

Instead of backing off, Tristan’s spoiled temper flared at her rejection. Ignoring her protests, he grabbed her arm again, his fingers bruising her skin as he pulled her toward his parked sports car. Clara raised her hand to slap him, but Tristan was prepared this time. Remembering the slap she had delivered earlier that morning, he quickly blocked her hand with his free arm.

"Let me go!" Clara yelled, fear rising in her chest as she struggled against his strength. "Help! Someone help me!"

A man walking down the main street paused and looked in their direction. Tristan didn't lose his cool. He smiled at the pedestrian and waved off the concern with an easy grin. "It's fine! She's my girlfriend. I made her mad this morning, and I'm just trying to make it up to her now."

With Tristan’s expensive clothing and handsome looks, he didn't look like a threat. Clara was beautiful, and together they looked like a young couple having a minor lover's quarrel. The pedestrian nodded, smiled, and walked away, leaving Clara to her fate.

Panic surged through Clara as Tristan dragged her closer to the open car door. Realizing screaming would not save her, she lowered her head and bit down hard on his forearm.

Tristan let out a sharp cry of pain. The shock forced him to release his grip.

Clara didn't waste a second. She turned and ran into the dark alley, her sneakers slapping against the pavement. She didn't look back until she was safe inside her building.

"You crazy woman!" Tristan yelled into the night, clutching his bleeding arm. His face was pale from the pain, and blood began to seep through his shirt sleeve.

Before he could even think about chasing after her, the sharp screech of tires made him turn around.

A sleek luxury car had pulled up nearby. Dominic Thorne sat behind the wheel, staring at him through the open window with a cold, judgmental look.

Tristan felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He and Dominic moved in the same elite business circles, and being caught in such a chaotic struggle was humiliating. He forced an awkward laugh and tried to smooth over the situation.

"President Thorne," Tristan said, rubbing his neck. "What brings you to this part of town?"

Dominic’s expression remained stone-cold. "What are you doing here, President Hayes?"

"Well, since you saw everything, I won't lie," Tristan said, trying to sound casual. He shrugged, flashing a smug grin. "You know how women are. She wanted me to spend the night with her yesterday, but I had some business to take care of. Now she's throwing a fit because I blew her off. I came here to apologize, but she's playing hard to get. It’s always a game with them."

Dominic’s jaw tightened. Tristan's words felt like a physical strike to his ears. His hands gripped the leather steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Clara had been in his bed last night, yet Tristan was claiming she had begged for his company. The thought made his blood run cold.

"You seem very devoted, President Hayes," Dominic said, his voice dripping with icy sarcasm. "Though I must say, your taste in women is getting worse."

Tristan laughed, missing the dangerous edge in Dominic's tone. "Worse? I think she's great. She's much more exciting than the girls I usually hang out with. Honestly, don't you think she's much more attractive than that little secretary of yours, Mr. Thorne?"

Dominic let out a dry, humorless laugh, forcing himself to keep his rage under control. "I’m only warning you because a pretty face can hide a terrible heart."

Tristan’s smile faded slightly. He didn't understand why Dominic was acting so hostile, but his arm was throbbing too much to continue the conversation. "I'm going to take off. That little wildcat bit me deep. I need to get to a clinic before this gets infected."

Tristan got into his sports car and drove away, the engine roaring into the quiet night.

Dominic remained parked in the dark, staring at the empty road. His mind was a chaotic mess of rage and disgust. He could still feel the lingering warmth of her body from last night, yet here she was, throwing herself at Tristan Hayes so quickly.

Dominic slammed his steering wheel, thoroughly disgusted by what a shameless whore she was.