Chapter 8
928 Words
Christian blocked her path before she could reach the door, his arm shooting out to bar the way. "Where do you think you're going?"
Hazel's eyes burned crimson as she struggled against him, her voice shaking uncontrollably. "Christian, are you blind?! She's destroying my reputation online! Do you have any idea what people are calling me? I'm going to confront her!"
His grip on her wrist tightened, his tone maddeningly calm. "I'll handle it."
"You'll handle it?" A laugh tore from her throat, hollow and despairing. "How? All that so-called proof came from you! You gave her those materials! How else could she have fabricated this?"
Watching Hazel unravel, something flickered in Christian's eyes, pain, maybe, but his voice remained quiet. "It wasn't me."
She wrenched free of his grasp and lunged for the door.
Christian didn't move. He simply glanced at the two bodyguards stationed nearby.
They moved instantly, seizing Hazel by the arms.
"Hazel is too agitated," Christian said flatly. "Take her to her room. Keep her there until she calms down."
"Christian!" Hazel thrashed, her voice climbing to a howl. "Let me go!"
Tears finally broke free, streaming down her face as she stared at the man she'd once loved.
"If you don't love me, why did you marry me? Why give me hope just to rip it away yourself? Let's just end this—" Her voice cracked, fraying into something raw and broken.
Then Christian's phone rang.
He glanced down, answered. Liora's voice spilled through, tear-choked and trembling.
"Christian, I'm so scared... Hazel sent men to harass me, they're saying I posted lies about her online. Please, you have to help me."
Christian's expression darkened. Urgency bled into his voice. "Stay where you are, Liora. I'm coming."
He didn't look back at Hazel. Didn't hesitate. He just turned and walked out.
The bodyguards hauled Hazel to the bedroom and threw her inside.
Before leaving, Christian had ordered them to administer a sedative, as if she were some raving lunatic who needed to be put down.
As consciousness began to slip, Hazel stared blankly at the bracelet still clasped around her wrist. The one he'd put there just minutes ago, as if he cared.
With a sharp snap, the bracelet broke during her struggle. Beads scattered across the floor, skittering into the shadows.
Then the sedative pulled her under.
When she woke, she felt hands on her skin. Rough. Greasy. Roaming.
Her eyes flew open.
Leering faces hovered above her. Strange men. Strangers.
One of them, a man with a thick gold chain around his neck, grinned down at her, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth. "Well, well. Look who's awake. Even better, let's have some fun."
"Get away from me!" Hazel's head throbbed violently. Black spots swam at the edges of her vision.
She didn't know who these men were. How had they gotten past security? How were they inside the villa?
Terror clawed up her throat. She grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and hurled it at them with everything she had.
The lamp shattered at their feet. They only laughed.
The sedative still dragged at her limbs. Her body was weak, her vision blurry. She could barely stand, but she forced herself upright, her voice hoarse. "Who are you?! Get out, or I'll call the police!"
"Call the police?" The men weren't intimidated. They moved closer, their grins widening. "Come on, Ms. Moore. Don't play innocent now. Those videos online, they show you're a lot less shy than this."
A tall, lanky man reached for her face. She slapped his hand away. "Keep us happy," he said, "and maybe we'll leave you alone."
Hazel's blood turned to ice. Dizziness washed over her, but she fought it, her voice rising despite herself. "Christian! Christian, where are you?!"
The men burst out laughing.
"Christian? Your dear husband?" The gold-chain man sneered. "He's with Miss Spencer right now! You didn't know? He's the one who sent us to keep you company. Said you bullied his precious Liora and needed to be taught a lesson."
Another man spat on the floor. "Everyone in this villa got sent away too, all to go take care of poor, frightened Miss Spencer. Go ahead, scream all you want. No one's coming."
The words hit Hazel like a blade to the chest.
They carved through her, splitting open the last fragile hope she'd been clinging to.
She stared at the grotesque faces closing in around her. Then her gaze slid past them, to the open window behind her.
A wild, desperate clarity seized her.
Rather than let these men touch her,
The men saw the shift in her eyes a second too late.
She ran for the window.
Under their horrified stares, Hazel leaped without hesitation.
A crash. Splintering wood. Screaming from above.
Then pain. Excruciating, bone-deep pain.
She'd landed in the flowerbed below. The soil and shrubs had broken her fall, barely.
She coughed blood onto the petals. Her ribs screamed. Everything hurt.
But she was alive.
A soft chime came from her pocket.
She pulled out her phone, vision swimming.
Reminder: Dear Ms. Moore, your flight to Aminia departs in two hours. Please proceed to the airport for check-in.
Teeth clenched against the searing pain, she dragged herself to her feet. Stumbled to the roadside. Hailed a taxi.
"The airport," she gasped, collapsing into the back seat.
As the car pulled away, she cast one last look at the villa through the rear window.
Her eyes held nothing now but ice.
Christian, she thought. Hazel is done with you.
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