One Night With My Daughter's Human Babysitter

Chapter9

"Hey! Damn it! Stop!" the man shouted in pursuit.

Joana's legs propelled her forward, her body straining as she pushed herself to run faster, desperate to create distance between herself and the impending danger that loomed behind her. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed ominously on the sidewalk, closing in on her. Aware of her human limitations in comparison to the werewolves chasing her, she knew outrunning them would be a futile endeavor.

With a surge of panic, Joana let out a desperate cry for help, hoping someone would come to her aid. However, the bustling city streets remained indifferent, offering no assistance or refuge. Frustration welled up inside her, cursing the lack of response and feeling abandoned in that moment. The relentless pounding of the men's pursuit grew louder, their footsteps drawing nearer.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Joana willed her body to move faster, driven by an instinct for survival. It felt as if she were observing the scene from a detached perspective, as though her body and consciousness were separate entities. She raced forward, fully aware that one misstep could seal her fate.

The two men closed the gap, their presence bearing down upon her. Fear surged through Joana, intensifying her desperate flight. Their hands grazed her shoulder, heightening her terror. With a piercing scream, she pushed herself to her limit, determined to evade their grasp. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the scar-faced man rapidly closing in.

In her frantic desperation, Joana collided forcefully with the unyielding corner of a brick building. Pain radiated through her head, disorienting her as she stumbled backward. Before she could regain her composure, hands closed in on her, capturing her in an unrelenting grip. Blurred vision and fading consciousness overwhelmed her, the image of the scar-faced man being the last thing she registered.

As awareness gradually returned, Joana found herself confined in the backseat of a car, her head throbbing with pain. Nausea and disorientation prevented her from screaming or resisting. Weakness and confusion held her captive as she tried to comprehend the destination these mysterious men were taking her to.

"She is awake," the man's gravelly voice broke the silence within the car. Joana let out a groan, attempting to speak, but her words emerged garbled and unintelligible. The men came to a halt, exiting the car and opening the back door, handling her delicate form with caution.

Supported by their firm grip, they guided Joana towards an uncertain fate. Her head hung back, throbbing and disoriented. As her gaze rose, she realized they were heading towards the grand apartment building she had encountered earlier that day.

Elijah Wyatt's extravagant penthouse.

A wave of weakness washed over Joana, accompanied by a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The man in the leather jacket muttered barely audible words before lifting Joana fully into his arms, proceeding to carry her through the brightly illuminated lobby. The scar-faced man exchanged brief words with the concierge, and as the elevator chimed, signaling their descent, ambiguity clouded Joana's thoughts about the unknown destination that awaited her.

Once again, darkness enveloped Joana, swallowing her whole.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself lying on something soft, the room illuminated by a dim glow emitted by a standing lamp. Groaning, Joana attempted to sit up, the dizziness intensifying as she struggled to maintain her balance.

"You hit your head pretty hard," a familiar male voice remarked.

She winced as a damp cloth made contact with her tender forehead, and supportive hands helped her remain upright. With a blurry view of her surroundings, she managed to focus on the concerned expression of Elijah Wyatt in front of her. He crouched down, gently dabbing at her forehead with the cool cloth, and Joana couldn't help but feel a fleeting sense of his genuine care, despite the circumstances.

"Where am I...?" Joana whispered, her voice barely audible.

"You're back in the penthouse," Elijah replied.

Blinking slowly, Joana's vision cleared, and she recognized Elijah Wyatt's handsome face before her. He stood as a pillar of concern, taking care of her needs. Silently, she wondered if there was a deeper connection between them, a spark that circumstances kept at bay.

"Why did you bring me back here?" Joana uttered weakly, struggling to form her words.

"Why did you run?" he responded, his tone aloof, the concern in his features vanishing as quickly as it had appeared when she looked at him.

Feeling her strength wane, Joana fell silent, unable to respond. Elijah let out a sigh, setting down the damp cloth and gently arranging a few soft pillows behind her to offer support. He then rose, walking over to the window, gazing out at the city street below.

"You've already signed the contract," he stated tersely. "It's rather impolite for you to flee like that. I was only trying to help."

"Help by sending two menacing men to attack me on the street in the middle of the night?" Joana questioned, her voice strained and feeble.

Elijah turned to face her, his expression now cold and indifferent.

"What did you expect me to do? They had no intention of causing you harm. From what I heard, you took off screaming before they even had the chance to speak to you." Once again, Joana emitted a groan, shutting her eyes and tenderly placing her fingers on her forehead as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Even with closed eyelids, she sensed Elijah's tall figure approaching, then crouching down in front of her. He picked up the washcloth once more, gently pressing it to her forehead. Amidst this, she heard the door click open.

"Thank you, Lina," he expressed. Joana opened her eyes partially, observing Lina, the housekeeper, handing him a bottle of pills. Elijah opened it and poured two pills onto his palm, extending them towards Joana along with a glass of water. "It's just Advil," he assured, addressing her hesitation. "For the pain. Don't worry, I wouldn't drug you."

Furrowing her brow, Joana gingerly accepted the pills, placing them in her mouth and swallowing them with a sip of water. The fading sound of Lina's footsteps followed, soon accompanied by the soft click of the door closing.

"You know, we did try to call you," Elijah remarked, taking his seat on the arm of a nearby chair, folding his arms across his chest. "Several times, actually. It turns out, you accidentally left your phone here." Retrieving her phone from his pocket, he tossed it onto her lap, and the screen illuminated, displaying five missed calls.

"Thanks," Joana responded, slipping her phone into her pocket. "But you should know that I have no intentions of continuing to work for you."

"I had a feeling you would say that," Elijah replied. "I suppose I could easily find someone else to fill your position, and truthfully, I would prefer it myself at this point. However, it seems Michaela has become quite attached to you."

Joana furrowed her brow. "Michaela seemed too upset about our... brief history... to want anything to do with me."

Elijah merely shrugged, then called out towards the door. "Come in, Michaela. Tell Joana what you told me."

Fully sitting up, Joana turned to see Michaela sheepishly entering the room. Michaela kept her gaze fixed on the floor, nervously fiddling with the bow on her dress, clearly displaying her embarrassment.

"Go on, Michaela," Elijah encouraged softly. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Michaela whispered, finally lifting her eyes to meet Joana's. Her eyes widened in surprise upon seeing Joana. "What happened?"