Cathryn's face twisted, her eyes darting between the two of them. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak but no words came out.
"Wait—what the fûck?" she whispered, her voice shaking with disbelief.
And before either Hardin or Tessa could react, Cathryn's eyes rolled back and she collapsed, hitting the pavement with a dull thud.
Continuation....
"Cathryn, hey! What's wrong?" Tessa cried as she knelt down, her trembling fingers searching desperately for Cathryn's pulse. Relief washed through her when she felt a faint beat.
"Let's take her to the hospital," she urged, turning to Hardin.
But before Hardin could react, the sky tore open. Heavy rain poured down, drenching them instantly. Cold splashes hit Cathryn's face, and suddenly she jolted up like someone waking from a nightmare. Without a word, she staggered and then rushed back into her car. Tires screeched as she sped away the moment the traffic jam finally cleared.
"Is… is she alright?" Tessa asked in disbelief, staring after the fleeing vehicle.
Before Hardin could respond, angry horns erupted all around them.
POM! POM! POM!
"Move your damn car!" one driver barked, leaning out his window.
Hardin's car was still stuck in the middle of the road, blocking everyone. The noise grew louder, sharper—each blare stabbing into his ears. He clutched both sides of his head, his face contorting in pain.
"Hardin?" Tessa gasped, tapping his shoulder. "Hardin, are you okay?"
He winced, eyes squeezing shut, the world spinning around him. His ears rang with piercing sounds, like church bells echoing inside his skull.
"Get your car off the way!" another driver shouted furiously.
"I–I'm so sorry!" Tessa yelled back, panicking as she grabbed Hardin's arm. With effort, she guided him into the car.
"Stay at the passenger side, I'll drive!" she insisted. But Hardin didn't move. He just sat there, eyes dazed, struggling to stay conscious.
"Oh gosh, what's wrong with you?" Tessa muttered, her heart racing as she pushed him gently toward the passenger side. Somehow, she managed to slide into the driver's seat herself.
Her hands trembled on the wheel. "God help me, I really don't know how to drive… I've never driven before," she whispered shakily, making the cross sign on her chest.
She twisted the key. The engine roared to life.
Hardin weakly grabbed her wrist. His voice was strained, barely audible. "Do… you know how to drive?"
Tessa's eyes met his—and in that very second, his body went limp. He passed out completely.
"Hardin!" Tessa shouted, shaking him, fear rising in her chest.
"Hospital… hospital," she muttered quickly, her eyes darting to the rain-blurred road ahead. "Fûck, the hospital's kinda far from here… and this weather—dammit!"
She shoved his seat back so he lay flat, making the cross sign again before gripping the wheel.
The car jerked forward, stalling at first. Her hands were slick with sweat despite the cold. She swallowed hard, tried again, and finally the vehicle rolled smoothly into motion.
"Please, God… don't let me kill us both," she whispered, then pressed harder on the accelerator as she drove off into the storm.
A VILLA – STUDY ROOM
The rain lashed against the tall glass windows of the study, each drop echoing in the silence like tiny war drums. A faint crackle came from the fireplace, throwing long shadows across the shelves lined with old books and framed memories. The air smelled of burning wood and leather, a mix of warmth and heaviness that matched the tension in the room.
Nikolai sat in the large armchair, his jaw clenched, eyes dark with restrained anger. His grandfather stood by the desk, cane in hand, his silver hair gleaming under the dim lamp light. The storm outside only seemed to mirror the storm brewing between them.
"Grandfather, what do you mean I should let those people who killed my parents go scot-free?" Nikolai's voice was low but sharp, his fists tightening on the armrest of the chair. "Yes, Mum and Dad were involved in something bad, but at least they changed. They turned themselves in to the police."
His grandfather sighed heavily. "Nikolai, you don't understand—"
"I'm not weak!" Nikolai snapped, cutting him off. "They can't harm me."
"Not harm you?" His grandfather's tone hardened. "They nearly beat you to death .
"That was because they caught me off guard," Nikolai shot back. His jaw clenched. "There were too many of them. Next time, I'll be ready."
His grandfather studied him for a long moment, eyes clouded with worry. "I think I'll have to send you out of this city again. Before you create more trouble for yourself."
"No." Nikolai stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "Don't push me, Grandfather. I'm not that little boy you shipped out of the country years ago. Do you know what I lost because of that? A precious friend—someone who doesn't even remember me now." His voice broke slightly, but he quickly swallowed it down.
His grandfather narrowed his eyes. "So this is about that girl, isn't it? Tessa. You want to stay here because of her, not just to deal with the men who murdered your parents."
Nikolai hesitated, then answered firmly. "Both."
The old man's shoulders sagged. For a moment, the storm outside filled the silence—the rain hammering against the windows, the wind howling through the trees.
"Fine," his grandfather finally said, rising from his seat. "It's late. The rain will only get colder. Make sure you cover yourself before bed. Good night, Nikolai."
Nikolai gave a faint nod, watching his grandfather leave the study. His eyes drifted to the window, where lightning split the night sky, his thoughts torn between vengeance and the girl he couldn't forget.
RICCO'S MANSION _DARK ROOM★
Mrs. Cristin sat bound tightly to a chair, her wrists raw from the ropes digging into her skin. The room was suffocatingly dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of a single bulb swinging overhead.
The heavy door creaked open, and Ricco stepped in. His shadow stretched across the room like a predator.
"What do you think you're doing, Ricco? You can't be this heartless," Mrs. Cristin spat, her voice trembling but defiant.
"Hah!" Ricco chuckled darkly, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Elena…" He dragged her name out mockingly.
He leaned closer, his gaze burning into her. "All I want from you is simple. Tell me—where is Tricia?"
"And I said…I don't know," she hissed back, her jaw tight.
Ricco's smirk faded into a sharp glare. Just then, the door opened, and one of his men slipped inside, whispering hurriedly into his ear. Ricco's expression shifted instantly—something had gone wrong. His eyes flickered back to Mrs. Cristin before he stormed out of the room.
DOWNSTAIRS – RICCO'S MANSION
"Tricia! What the fûck happened to you?" Ricco barked as he rushed forward.
Tricia stood in the foyer, drenched from the rain. Her clothes clung to her trembling body, her skin pale and lips quivering from the cold. Blood trickled down her right arm, where a deep gash marked her skin. Her eyes—wild, haunted—spoke of the nightmare she had narrowly escaped.
She collapsed into Ricco's arms, her voice hoarse. "I…I was kidnapped but I narrowly escaped."
FLASHBACK – RUSTED VILLA HIDEOUT ★
The air smelled of mold and gasoline, the walls of the villa cracked and water-stained. Tricia lay slumped in a corner, hands bound, her head lolling as if unconscious.
"I need to pee. Keep watch on her," one of the men muttered as he stepped outside.
The other man smirked and crouched beside Tricia. "Tch. She's still out cold." With a rough hand, he yanked the blindfold from her eyes.
Tricia's lashes fluttered, but she forced herself to stay limp, feigning unconsciousness.
"Guess I can relax then," the guard muttered, stretching his arms. He dragged himself to a corner and laid down, his head against the wall. Within minutes, his snores filled the room.
The man's snores grew heavier, echoing in the broken silence of the villa. Tricia's heart thudded against her ribs, but she didn't move too quickly. One mistake and she'd be caught.
Slowly, she shifted her wrists against the coarse rope. Hours of binding had left them raw, but the knot wasn't as tight as before. She twisted, pulled, then slipped one hand free.
Her gaze darted toward the sleeping guard. He stirred, muttered something in his sleep, and turned over.
Tricia froze.
When his snores resumed, she bit her lip and worked on her other hand until both were free. She slipped the rope from her ankles and crawled toward the door, careful not to make a sound on the creaking wooden floor.
As she reached the threshold, her foot brushed against a tin can. It clattered lightly.
The man grunted. His head lifted.
Tricia's blood ran cold. She snatched up the tin can and hurled it across the room. It crashed against the far wall, and the guard jumped to his feet, staggering toward the noise.
Using the distraction, Tricia bolted out the door into the night air.
The scent of gasoline clung heavier outside, the villa's courtyard littered with old oil drums and rusted car parts. She sprinted, bare feet slapping against the dirt.
"HEY!" the man roared behind her, realizing too late she had escaped.
Tricia pushed harder, weaving between broken fences and overgrown grass. Her lungs burned, but fear kept her legs moving.
Headlights suddenly flared ahead the other man returning from outside.
Tricia skidded to a halt, panic rising—then she darted sideways, vanishing into the trees before the men could corner her.
"Find her!" one of the men voice bellowed in the distance.
Branches whipped her skin as she ran deeper into the woods, but she didn't stop. For the first time since her capture, freedom was within reach.
"Do you know their faces? The men who kidnapped you?" Ricco's voice was sharp, anger laced through every word.
"Yes," Tricia answered weakly, her voice trembling from the cold and exhaustion. "But they weren't working alone. They were sent… by someone. A girl."
Ricco's brows furrowed. "A girl?"
Tricia nodded, clutching her injured arm. "I was at college… sitting at a corner, pressing my phone. Then she came up to me—kept calling me Tessa. I got angry when she touched me, but she wouldn't stop saying that name. So I left. But before I could even get far, two men grabbed me. They pressed a handkerchief to my nose—it was soaked in some chemical. I passed out instantly."
Her voice cracked as she continued, "I think… she mistook me for Tessa. Maybe she wanted to kidnap her, but thought I was her instead. But… she can't go scot free for this."
Ricco's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. "How does she look?"
"She has blonde hair. I swear I've seen her before." Tricia's hands patted her pockets, panic flashing in her eyes. "My phone?!" She searched frantically but found nothing. "It must have fallen during the struggle."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I know I've seen her on the internet before…"
Ricco clenched his fists. "I'll deal with them myself." He turned sharply, then barked orders: "Take her to her room. Dress her wounds, find her something warm to wear, and prepare a hot bath. Now."
Tricia's lips quivered as she looked at him, frustration bubbling beneath her fear. "Dad, I told you coming to New York was a mistake. I was kidnapped on my first day at college. I hate it here! Please, let's go back to Italy."
But Ricco didn't even glance at her. His voice was cold, dismissive. "Take her to her room."
Defeated, Tricia swallowed her words and allowed the maid to lead her away. The soft padding of their footsteps faded into the distance.
Ricco stood silently for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes narrowed in thought. Then he spoke again, voice low and commanding:
"Release the woman in the dark room. Give her a space to stay for the night and some clothes."
"Yes, Don Ricco," a guard replied before leaving to carry out the order.
Without another word, Ricco turned and strode into his study, his mind already plotting his next move.
ON THE ROAD ★
"Dang it!" Tessa cursed as the car sputtered to a halt.
Her knuckles tightened on the wheel before she exhaled sharply. She glanced sideways at Hardin, still unconscious in the seat beside her, his face pale but maddeningly calm—as if nothing in the world could disturb him.
The rain had eased into a gentle drizzle, pattering against the windshield. Tessa stepped out, lifted the bonnet like she knew what she was doing, then dropped it with a frustrated groan. She kicked the car for good measure, the hollow thud echoing her helplessness.
"Aarg!!" she yelled, the sound swallowed by the quiet of the empty road.
She slid back into the car, fingers trembling as Hardin's phone began buzzing. She dug it out of his pocket and answered.
"Yoo, Hardin—" Jordan's voice cut in.
"This isn't Hardin, it's Tessa," she said quickly. "We're stuck in the middle of nowhere. Hardin's unconscious, and his car won't start. He needs a hospital."
"Send the location. I'll be there soon. Just… wait somewhere safe," Jordan replied before hanging up.
"Wait somewhere?" Tessa muttered under her breath, looking around in disbelief. "Where the hell am I supposed to—"
Then her gaze landed on it. A small cabin nestled just off the road, its wooden roof glistening with rain. Warm light flickered faintly through the window, like a silent invitation.
Her heart beat faster—not out of fear, but with an odd sense of relief. She looked back at Hardin, his lashes resting against his skin, his lips parted slightly. Vulnerable. Human.
"Guess it's you and me, ," she whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. With careful hands, she opened his door, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and half-dragged, half-guided him toward the cabin.
The cabin door creaked as Tessa pushed it open with her shoulder, guiding Hardin's weight inside. It smelled faintly of pine and smoke, a forgotten place yet strangely warm. Dust clung to the old furniture, but there was a small couch near the fireplace that seemed good enough.
With effort, she lowered him onto it. His head lolled to the side, a faint groan leaving his lips.
"Don't you dare die on me," Tessa muttered, brushing her damp hair back. She crouched in front of him, her heart pounding as she studied his face. Up close, Hardin looked less like the arrogant jerk she'd been fighting with for days and more like… a guy she didn't quite understand. Strong jawline, long lashes that didn't belong on someone so infuriating, and lips that looked far too soft for the trouble he caused.
She sighed and, almost without thinking, let her fingertips graze his cheek, pushing a strand of wet hair away from his forehead.
That was when his eyes fluttered open.
Tessa froze.
Hardin's gaze met hers—still heavy with exhaustion, but sharp enough to make her breath hitch. His lips curved into the faintest, teasing smirk.
"Enjoying the view, sweetheart?" His voice was rough, low, and infuriatingly smug.
Tessa's hand shot back as if burned. "Y-you're awake?"
"Was," he drawled, shifting slightly but wincing at the movement. "Until someone decided to start petting me like a stray cat."
Her cheeks burned hot. "I was just—checking if you were alive!"
Hardin's smirk deepened, his eyes lingering on her flushed face. "Mhm. Sure."
Tessa huffed and turned away, trying to shake off the heat in her cheeks. "You're impossible."
Hardin's low chuckle rumbled in the silence. "And yet, you're still here."
Before she could snap back, his hand caught her wrist. In one smooth pull, he dragged her closer until she lost her balance and landed right on his lap.
"Hardin!" she gasped, her palms braced against his chest. The steady beat of his heart thudded beneath her touch, strong and unyielding.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, his nose grazing just inches from hers. Tessa's pulse roared in her ears. Instinctively, her eyes fluttered shut, lips parting ever so slightly—waiting for the kiss that never came.
Instead, Hardin's lips ghosted near her ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
"Do you like me, Tessa?" he murmured. "Because I think I do."
Her eyes snapped open—caught between shock, anger, and something dangerously close to desire.