SURVIVAL GAME

CHAPTER 25

Jeremiah entered the abandoned warehouse and their headquarters. His steps were slow and leaving the aura of power and authority. He walked down the stairs. He didn't like her, he hated seeing her. But unfortunately, it was a part of his job. Jeremiah stopped in front of the metal door, sighed, then placed the pin. The door opened and he walked inside. He stopped in front of another door, sighed again. Was she really a threat that all this is required. He brought out a key and unlocked the door. He opened it. Entered and saw her.

She was sitting beside the wall, looking helpless. Her lips were dry and her eyes swollen. She was trembling. Not from cold, but from fear of what could be done to her.

The girl slowly raised up her head and stared at him

" H...help m...me " Joke said trembling.

Jeremiah removed his eyes from her, turned around and walked away. He could hear the soft and low plea, coming from her mouth.

He locked the door. Why did Ava not kill her? Was her life that special? Jeremiah sighed. Sparing her life, will be a bigger threat one day. This he knew.

* * *

Precious drank the wine, bottle by bottle, until she was dead drunk. She was confused and annoyed.

Obi is gone, to Miami or something, Ava told her that. But Precious knew that Obi hated Miami. That's where his sister died. Obi can't go there. Especially not in a time like this.

Ava lied. She's hiding something. Precious always feel like the odd one all the time. They always kept her in the dark, as if she means nothing.

Something big is going on. She has to find out. She has to find Obi.

" You could have waited for me" Emma said from behind.

Precious turned around and faced Emma then turned around and continued her drinking.

Emma frowned, moved closer to Precious and sat down.

" So what's wrong?" Emma asked

Precious dropped the bottle on the table then stared at Emma, she began to blush, surprising Emma

" You are cute, Soo... really cute" precious slowly touches Emma's cheeks. " And your cheeks..." Precious chuckled " I want to kiss it"

Emma stared at Precious, petrified and confused

" I get that you are drunk, but don't you think this is too much?"

Precious frowned then removed her hands from Emma's cheeks. Emma let out a relieved sigh, but stopped when Precious started to cry.

" No one loves me...I... I'm not ..." Precious took the bottle and took two huge gulp then dropped the bottle down " the world is Soo heartless . And now, you are pushing me away" Precious laughed then cried, laughed then cried, laughed then cried, until she didn't laugh just cried. Emma stood up, walked closer to Precious, put his arm around precious shoulder.

" I'm here now. You can cry, let it all out. I'll be here" Emma paused " I've always been"

Precious stared at Emma, with tears on her cheeks. Removes his arm from her back then stood up.

Emma looked at Precious confused.

Precious faced Emma, locked her eyes with his

" I'm gonna regret this" precious said softly.

" Regret w..."

Before he could complete his statement.

Precious rose on her toes, fingers curling into his shirt, and pressed her lips to his — soft, warm, clumsy, but full of every feeling she’d swallowed for months.

He froze — not because he didn’t want it, but because he wanted it too much.

“Precious…” he murmured against her lips. His hand lifted, fingers brushing her cheek — tender, aching — then he gently pulled back, foreheads still touching. “Not like this.”

Her eyes fluttered open, confused, hurt flickering through the haze.

“I want you to remember it,” he whispered, voice rough. “When you're sober. When you mean it."

Precious’s breathing trembled.

“But I do mean it…"

He cupped her face, thumb brushing lightly along her jaw, a promise in his touch.

“I know,” he whispered. “And that’s why I won't kiss you back. Not tonight.”

She leaned into him anyway, tired and soft, and he steadied her, guiding her gently so she wouldn't fall.

And for a second — just one — his forehead rested against hers, like he was fighting every urge in his body to stay honorable.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let me get you home.”

He knew regret was going to be present tomorrow. She just kissed her boss son.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

Precious rolled around on the bed. Gosh, she was comfortable. she rolled again and landed on the floor, painfully .

" Gosh, that hurt" Precious said weakly. Precious slowly opened her eyes, then widened her eyes then immediately sat upright . This isn't her house. Precious looked around, petrified. She looked at herself.

" Where is my clothes?" Precious said petrified. She was missing her top and trousers. In other words, she was only wearing her underwears . Precious stood up.

" What happened." Precious exhaled and inhaled " think, think, think,I..." Precious turned around instantly the door opened.

The person who stepped in was Emma—her boss’s son—holding a bowl of steaming soup and looking way too casual for someone who just walked in on a half-naked, very confused woman.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Emma blinked. “Bringing food?”

“Where are my clothes?!” she snapped, and quickly took a blanket from the bed and clutched it to her chest like her life depended on it.

“Ohhh... that.” He shifted awkwardly, stepping back slightly. “You, uh, kind of threw up. On yourself. And on me. It was everywhere. Like, the flood in Noah and the Ark”

She narrowed her eyes. “And so you took off my clothes?!”

“Hey, I was trying to help! You passed out. I couldn’t leave you soaked in your own barf. I mean, I have some morals.”

She stared at him.

“I washed your stuff,” he added quickly. “Mine too. Your clothes are drying now. I didn’t have any women’s clothes lying around—unless you wanted to wear my mum’s church wrapper?”

She made a noise halfway between a groan and a sigh, sinking back into the pillow.

“Oh, and you drooled on me too,” he added with a smirk. “Right here.” He pointed dramatically at his arm. “Trauma.”

“Get out, Emma!” precious said embarrassed

“Fine, but I’m leaving this soup here. Drink it. You need it. It’s pepper soup, not poison.”

She threw a pillow at him. “Out!”

As the door closed, she muttered under her breath,

“I can’t believe I barfed in front of him. And drooled.”

From the hallway: “*And snored.*”

“EMMA!”