From his hair to his eyes and his slowly curled up nose, he was a splitting image of Jayden, except for the scar above Jayden's left eyebrow. One of those people I would mistake for the other.
But his eyes were different. Colder. With more mischief in them.
When his eyes focused on me, his snarl only widened.
" So you are the make-believe girlfriend of Jayden" he said, scoffing.
" If you say anything out of place right now I won't mind giving you a broken skull" Jayden threatened but the man did not seem to mind.
He moved closer to the both of us and smirked.
" She is not his girlfriend, mum, he hired her to pose as his girlfriend. I did my research" he said.
I felt my heart beat begin to thump louder.
How had I gotten myself in this situation?
Nightshade
His eyes were staring deep into mine, mouth unmoving, face unreadable.
" And you think you are the best fit for the job?" He asked.
I gulped down my fear and the light awe that I still had of him, of his face and his deathly dashing build.
" I know I can do the job if you let me....please" I said to him.
He seemed to contemplate for a while, now picking up a pen, his fingers swirling around the top of it.
" I do have a small proposition to ask" he said to me.
I felt my brows furrowed in confusion and also surprise.
I was not supposed to be here for this interview in the first place, and now he has a proposal?
" Be my contract fiancee for two years." He said.
It was how he said it, his eyes barely holding any emotion and his tone so calm like he was talking about the weather.
How did I find myself here?
***
I remember thinking back at the past years of abuse that I went through in the hands of my so-called boyfriend. From the beatings to the exploits.
But as the train drove past, nearing the horizon, I could feel a glimmer of hope gush through me.
I was finally free from him.
I stood outside the train station, waiting for Natalie.
Natalie had said she would pick me up, but I couldn't stop the sinking feeling in my stomach.
The description of his company was clutched tightly in my arms. I had made sure to jot this little piece of information as she had recited it to me over the phone a few hours ago.
She was going to pick me up. But it did not hurt to be prepared.
Is Mr.Jayden going to believe me?
What if Logan found me before I could get to him?
As I stood there lost in thought, I felt a presence behind me.
Three men circled me. My body tensed, and I turned slowly.
"Hey there!" a man said, his voice, low and rough.
His clothes were worn; his face shadowed by a hoodie.
Behind him, two other men lingered, their eyes cold and predatory.
My grip on my bag tightened. "Please, leave me alone! I don't want any trouble." I did not pride myself as an outspoken person, especially when I was scared.
Now was one of those times. When the fear choked my words, making it hard to even breathe.
"Trouble?" The man snorted, coming closer. "We're just looking for a little favor. Do you have any cash on you?" He asked.
From his voice to his darkened eyes, I knew believing his words would be a waste of time.
"I don't have anything on me!" I said quickly, taking a step back but they came closer.
"Aww, don't be like that baby girl," he said, mockingly with a smirk plastering at the corner of his lips. "We can tell you've got something in that bag and we want it. Let us take a look at it." He said, his hands reaching for my bag now as I panicked.
"No!" I held onto my bag tighter and turned to run, but one of them grabbed my arm, pulling me back.
"Let me go!" I screamed, struggling against his grip.
"Stop yelling, or else…; you do know you are surrounded right? So you'd better do as I say," he said, bringing out a knife from his jeans.
My vision was blurred with tears.
"Please," I whispered, trembling, "I just arrived here…..and I have nothing on me. Don't kill me, please.
"Shut up!" he yelled back, as his hand tightened painfully around my wrist. "We just want your money, and we are not here to hurt you unless you make us." He said, his voice, harsh like steel.
"Please," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face. "This is all I have left. Don't take it. Please."
They didn't listen.
One of them snatched my backpack bag from my hands while the other pushed me to the ground.
My palms scraped against the ground, as I winced out in pain.
"Let's see what we have here," the first man muttered with excitement while unzipping the bag.
"Don't!" I shouted, crawling towards them. "Please, don't take it! " I was saying. But none of them listened, my pleas falling on deaf ears.
"Aww, look at this," he said, pulling out my sketchbook from the backpack.
He flipped through the pages, his expression unimpressed. "What is this? Is this some humm—scribbles?" He said, laughing out loud.
"They're mine!" I cried, my voice cracking. "Please, give them back!" I said again.
"If you want to get out of here alive, better shut up, or else this knife is going deep into your smooth skin," one of them said through gritted teeth.
"Please, this is the only identity I have, I got nothing on me, these drawings are my life." I pleaded But they ignored me.
One of them ruffled through the bag, tossing my paints and brushes on the ground without care.
"This is useless," another one said, kicking the items away.
No!" I struggled to gather them, but one of them grabbed my hair, pulling me back.
"Let her go," the first man said with a smirk. "We got what we wanted.
They tossed the empty backpack on the ground and started walking away, laughing. My body shook with sobs as I crawled forward toward the scattered remains of my belongings.
My sketchbook was gone. The pages that held my dreams, my memories. What I didn't know was that they had taken my handbag which was beside my suitcase.
Just when I tried reaching for my handbag to get my phone, I noticed it was gone.
They had taken my bag!!My voice caught in my throat as I spun around, desperately seeking a glimpse of my bag.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
My thoughts went to my documents, each stating the purchases of my paintings and my identity of being nightshade, the famous painter. All gone.
"Why was this happening to me?" I said aloud.
For what felt like hours, I just sat there, staring at the ground.
The train station felt colder and emptier. I was alone, completely and utterly alone.With high hopes, I riffled through my pockets for spare change, and I found a few coins and hastily made my way to the only pay phone that was close by, with trembling hands, I dialed Natalie's number.
The line rang for a while, Just when I thought all hope was lost, Her voice came through from the other end. "Hello?"
"He—llo Natalie, it's me," I said, shivering. "Something happened." Before I could utter another word, the phone went dead, and the words "out of service" glared at me from the screen.