Hit & Run

Langdon smiled as he waited for her to lock the door. Sienna stared at the brass lock, her stomach twisting into a tight knot. The silence in the office felt suffocating. The faint hum of the air conditioner felt like a low growl against her ears. She could smell the pungent, expensive cologne radiating off him, mixed with stale coffee. Her vision tinted red with an explosive fury that she struggled to contain.

Langdon purred the words, his voice thick with sleazy intent. "Are you deaf? I told you to lock the door."

Sienna turned her head to glare at him. She refused to cower. She took a deliberate step to the side, breaking his physical cage, and walked over to the center of the room. "I heard you well."

Langdon tried to close the distance between them, reaching out to pull her by the waist. "Good. Now, don't be in a rush. Aren't you a lady?"

Sienna swerved backward, narrowly dodging his grasp. Her best friend Ryker had always taught her to develop thorns. He had drummed it into her head over the years. Beautiful girls had to develop thorns to scare predators away. If roses lacked thorns, they would be destroyed by undeserving people. She stood her ground, her posture rigid and defensive.

Sienna kept her voice icy. "Mr. Langdon, what exactly are you proposing?"

Langdon masked his annoyance with a blooming smile. For a man in his early forties, he kept himself in good shape, but his rotten core overshadowed any physical appeal. He leaned against the edge of his mahogany desk and crossed his arms. "It is quite simple, Sienna. You will never have to work overtime again, and you get double your current pay."

Sienna narrowed her eyes. There was no such thing as a free lunch in the corporate world, especially not in this godforsaken building. She knew the negative intent was staring her right in the face.

Sienna challenged him, letting the sarcasm drip from her words. "Just that?"

Langdon confessed without shame, his gaze dragging down her body to linger on her chest and hips. "Don't be stupid. Of course, you have to do something in return, don't you think?"

Sienna's heart rate spiked, thudding hard against her ribs. She was blessed with beauty, but she also had a sharp tongue glued to a fiery personality. She would never let a man like him degrade her.

Sienna delivered the rejection with brutal clarity. "Mr. Langdon, if you want me in your bed, then that will never happen."

Langdon dropped the charming facade. His features twisted into a malicious scowl. He had exhausted his patience for playing nice.

He spoke with the cold detachment of a man used to getting his way. "Then you are fired. All those three weeks you worked for will go in vain because you violated a mandatory overtime clause in your contract."

Sienna raged with anger. She desperately needed that income to keep her family afloat. The injustice of it all burned in her chest.

She gritted her teeth, her fists clenching at her sides. "You are so evil."

Langdon chuckled, clearly enjoying her vulnerability. "I presented you with a good opportunity and you spat in my face."

Sienna blurted out, her voice echoing off the glass walls. "Now you listen, and you listen good. I would rather endure a night in a pit full of snakes and scorpions than spend a single second with a devious bastard like you."

Langdon's smile froze on his face. He snarled, pushing off the desk. "You have a very sharp tongue."

Sienna raged, her face flushing crimson with fury. She did not hold back. She wanted him to feel the exact threat he had forced upon her. "So you better watch it before I cut off that small thing between your thighs."

Langdon snapped. The beast inside him roared to the surface.

He yelled, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. "Get out of my office!"

Sienna did not flinch. Instead of retreating, she calmly walked over to the guest chair and sat down, casually crossing her legs.

She shot back at him, her chin tilted up in defiance. "Not until you pay me what I deserve. I invested my time, energy, money, and sweat for three weeks. I am not leaving without my pay."

Langdon marveled at her audacity, but he was not going to let her leave with a victory.

He sneered. "You already know the answer to that."

Sienna lost the last shred of her patience. She roared the words, jumping up from the chair. "You will burn in hell, Langdon, you filthy old man."

He taunted her to her dismay, purposefully twisting the knife regarding her tragic family situation. "I am not older than your father, pretty. I am just forty."

Sienna turned on her heel and marched to the door. Instead of simply turning the handle, she lifted her leg and kicked the heavy wooden door open with a resounding crash.

Langdon screamed after her as she stepped out into the hallway. "Hey, you are going to pay for those damages!"

A dark, reckless thought crossed her mind. Sienna turned around and strode right back into his office, locking eyes with him. "Yeah, right. Deduct it from my pay."

She marched straight to his desk, grabbed his expensive silver Mac laptop with both hands, and smashed it onto the hard tile floor. Before Langdon could process the destruction, she snatched up his latest iPhone and hurled it against the wall, shattering the screen into a spiderweb of glass.

She smoothed out her blouse. "Now, my payment is redeemed. Goodbye."

She walked away without a backward glance. The loud crashing noises had attracted the attention of several colleagues. They rushed toward her in the corridor, their faces painted with shock and curiosity.

"Are you alright? What happened in there? Did you piss him off?"

Sienna ignored them, giving them a cold shoulder as she quickened her pace to her own cubicle. She swept her hand across her desk, sending every document, file, and pen crashing to the floor. Satisfied with her final act of rebellion, she grabbed her leather handbag, marched into the elevator, and slammed the ground floor button.

Sienna reached the underground car park and locked herself inside the safety of her red Chevrolet Cruz. The adrenaline crash hit her hard. The heavy silence of the car allowed life's brutal realities to close in on her. She slumped against the steering wheel, panic settling into her bones. The pending utility bills, her brother's astronomical medical bills in California, her own daily upkeep, and even taking care of Ryker flooded her thoughts. Ryker had been her best friend for ten years. Even though he acted like a jerk sometimes, she still loved him. He had always been her rock until his toxic girlfriend Vivienne showed up a few months ago and ruined the dynamic.

Sienna sat up straight, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. She grabbed her phone from her purse. As if hit by a sudden ray of light, she pulled up her call log and redialed Mr. Ward's number.

Preston Ward answered the call, his voice smooth and professional. "Have you made a consideration yet, Miss Frost?"

Sienna gripped the steering wheel tight. "Yes, but I have a condition."

Preston maintained his patient tone. "Let me hear it, Miss Frost."

Sienna stated her demand clearly, praying her desperation did not bleed through the phone. "I need a salary advance."

Preston let out a warm chuckle on the other end of the line. "No, you do not. Your job switch allowance is three times what you are currently earning. It will be paid into your account as soon as you resume work."

The news felt like sweet cream poured into her bitter coffee. A massive weight lifted off her shoulders. She opened her mouth to express her gratitude when a familiar beep indicated a call waiting. She glanced at the screen and saw Ryker's name flashing. She ignored him for the moment.

A genuine smile formed on Sienna's lips. "Thank you, Mr. Ward. I appreciate it."

Preston concluded the call. "The pleasure is mine. See you on Monday."

Ryker's call kept coming through. Sienna sighed and finally tapped the answer button.

Sienna let her tone air with blatant jealousy. "Are you free from her arms now?"

He tried to coax her, his voice gentle. "Don't tell me you are jealous. Vivienne is my girlfriend, but you will always be my best friend."

Sienna snapped, the frustration of the past few months boiling over. "Cut it, Ryk. No matter what, do not let her answer the phone when I call you."

Ryker chuckled softy on the other end. "Oh, that. She insisted because she was equally jealous. I am very sorry, so how do I make it up to you?"

Sienna started the engine of her Chevrolet. "I feel like having a fun night out. Care to join me?"

Ryker agreed without hesitation. "Send the location."

Sienna laid down her demand. "And please, come alone."

She could not stand his girlfriend. It had been weeks since they had enjoyed any alone time to catch up on their chaotic lives. Vivienne always found a way to insert herself and ruin the mood. Sienna was determined to have a fun night out because she knew her free time would vanish once she started her demanding new role at Sterling Global. The pressure on her was suffocating, and she felt like she would explode if she did not let herself out to breathe.

Instead of driving straight home to her cramped apartment, she merged onto the busy city streets and stopped by an upscale boutique. She handed over her credit card, purchasing some sharp corporate wear for her new job. While browsing the men's section, she picked out a few crisp shirts for Ryker as well. He had been job hunting for weeks and needed to look good for his interviews. She then spotted a stunning black party dress that hugged all the right curves. She bought it without a second thought.

After changing into the new dress in the boutique's fitting room, Sienna realized the sky was already turning dark. She stopped by a small corner restaurant to have a hot bowl of soup, realizing she had not eaten a single thing since the morning.

With her stomach settled, Sienna drove toward the exclusive nightclub. The city lights blurred past her window as she navigated the evening traffic. She cruised through a busy intersection, her mind replaying the chaotic events of the day. The traffic light ahead switched from yellow to red. The sleek, dark gray Lamborghini Sian directly in front of her slammed on its brakes. Sienna panicked. She stomped on her brake pedal, but her speed was just a little over the mark. The tires screeched against the asphalt. A sickening crunch echoed through the intersection as the front of her Chevrolet smashed into the expensive rear bumper of the Lamborghini.

Sienna gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. Her hands shook on the steering wheel. She stared wide-eyed at the luxurious vehicle ahead. The driver did not react. He seemed to be distracted, likely on a phone call. Sienna unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned forward, squinting through her windshield to assess the damage. The Lamborghini had a visible scratch and a slight dent on the carbon-fiber bumper. Her own car had suffered a cracked grille and a busted headlight.

The reality of the situation crashed down on her like an avalanche. Repairing her own car would be cheap, but covering the repair costs for a multi-million-dollar supercar would cost her tens of thousands of dollars. It would wipe out her new job allowance and leave her drowning in debt. She could not afford this. She could not let this happen.

Panic overrode all logic. Her breathing turned erratic. She checked her rearview mirror. The road behind her was empty. Without thinking twice, she threw the gear shifter into reverse and backed up a few feet, creating distance between her ruined bumper and the Lamborghini. The traffic light flicked to green. Sienna slammed her foot on the gas pedal. She swerved hard into the adjacent lane, overtook the damaged supercar, and sped off down the avenue at top speed, her heart pounding against her ribs.

Inside the Lamborghini Sian, Vaughan Sterling ended his business call and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. He felt the distinct jolt of the impact. He unbuckled his seatbelt, pushed the heavy door open, and stepped out onto the street. He walked around to the rear of his vehicle and inspected the damage. The scratch was small, almost unnoticeable to the untrained eye, but the evidence of the bump was undeniable. He looked up, his sharp gaze locking onto the retreating taillights of the red Chevrolet Cruz. The culprit had fled the scene like a coward.

Vaughan clicked his tongue in annoyance. He had not caught a glimpse of the driver's face. A deep frown dissipated his handsome, sculpted features. He walked back to the driver's side and slid into the low seat. He started the roaring engine and drove off, but he did not head toward the club. He navigated his way back to his expansive private garage. He refused to be seen driving a car with a scratch on it, no matter how minor. It was a matter of pride.

After swapping the damaged Lamborghini for a flawless black Aston Martin, Vaughan checked his messages. He was supposed to meet his best friend, Zane, at the club for drinks. However, Zane had called at the last minute to cancel, claiming his pregnant wife needed him at home. Exasperated and carrying a dark mood from the hit-and-run, Vaughan decided to head to the club anyway to cool off and clear his head.

Sienna arrived at the crowded car park of the exclusive nightclub. She found a spot near the back, parked her battered Chevrolet, and killed the engine. She stepped out into the cool night air, smoothing down her new black dress. As she approached the entrance, the heavy, rhythmic buzzing sound of bass and music washed over her. The vibrant atmosphere temporarily chased away the gnawing guilt of her crime.

She secured a private booth near the bar and ordered her favorite dry martini. She took a slow sip, letting the alcohol burn down her throat, and settled into the plush leather seat. She waited for Ryker to arrive. Over the next ten minutes, several confident men approached her table, flashing charming smiles and offering to buy her drinks. She rejected every single advance with a polite but firm shake of her head. She refused to step onto the dance floor with a stranger. She would never dance in a club if Ryker was not around to watch her back.

She checked her phone screen. The time dragged on. She opened her messaging app to send Ryker an annoyed reminder. Just as her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, she caught a glimpse of movement near the flashing neon lights of the entrance. A familiar tall silhouette appeared, scanning the crowd. Sienna smiled, raising her hand to wave. Then, a second, slender silhouette stepped out from behind him, clutching his arm possessively.

Rage boiled through Sienna's veins, vaporizing her good mood. She watched Ryker weave through the crowded dance floor, heading straight toward her table with Vivienne tailing right behind him. Vivienne wore a smug, victorious smirk that made Sienna want to throw her martini glass at the wall.

Sienna raised her voice to gain dominance over the blasting club music. "Which part of alone did you not understand, Ryker?"

She did not wait for his pathetic excuse. She snatched her purse off the table and turned to leave. She was not going to sit here and play third wheel to the woman who was ruining her friendship. As she took her first step away, Ryker lunged forward and grabbed her by the wrist, halting her movement.

Ryker pleaded, his grip firm but desperate. "Please Enna, we need to talk."

Outside in the dimly lit car park, the sleek black Aston Martin glided into an empty VIP space. Vaughan Sterling killed the engine and stepped out into the humid night air. He buttoned his suit jacket, his sharp eyes scanning the rows of parked vehicles. He stopped dead in his tracks. A few yards away, parked under a flickering streetlamp, sat a red Chevrolet Cruz. He walked over to it, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the busted front grille and the shattered headlight. It was the exact same damage profile. It was the hit-and-run driver.

Vaughan knew the cowardly driver was currently inside the club, drinking and partying without a care in the world. He still did not have a face to match the car, but he had the next best thing. He pulled his smartphone from his pocket, opened the camera, and snapped a crystal-clear photo of the license plate. A cold, calculating smile curved his lips. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and made his way toward the thumping entrance of the club.