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1105 Words
“What I’m giving you… do you dare take it?”
With that single line, Natalie Pierce pushed the lavatory door shut behind them and clicked the lock.
Issac Monroe blinked. “Are you insane?”
He tried to move around her to open the door, but she stepped into his path.
“Back in your seat,” she said with a mocking tilt of her head, “you were playing cards on your phone like some bored cowboy—and sneaking glances at me eight times. Eight. I counted. What’s wrong? All desire but no courage?”
Her smirk deepened, eyes filled with open provocation.
“Or”—she dragged out the word—“are you just… incapable?”
There were many things you could accuse a man of.
But not that.
Never that.
Issac’s expression darkened. “…You asked for this.”
In the next second, he grabbed her—without gentleness, without hesitation—and lifted her clean off the floor.
…
The storm broke.
The cabin’s turbulence quieted.
And the aircraft had already crossed a thousand miles through the night sky.
Breathing slightly, Issac steadied himself against the narrow lavatory wall.
A frosty voice whispered in his ear.
“Can you put me down now?”
“Ah… right.”
He loosened his hold automatically.
But the moment her feet touched the floor, Natalie Pierce went weak all over. Her legs trembled violently, unable to support her, and she nearly collapsed.
Issac caught her before she fell—and that was when he saw it.
A faint stain of blood on the inside of her thigh.
His breath paused.
Her first time.
He hadn’t expected that.
And he’d been… honestly, far too rough.
“You—why would you do this?” he asked, stunned as he studied the woman’s strikingly beautiful face.
But before she could answer—
BAM BAM BAM!
Someone hammered on the lavatory door with force that rattled the frame.
“Miss Pierce! You’re in there, aren’t you?”
A man’s voice. Cold. Urgent.
Issac grabbed his shirt and pants, dressed in seconds. Natalie slipped hurriedly into her dress, legs still unsteady.
Only then did Issac open the door.
Three men in black suits stood outside—broad-shouldered, built like reinforced walls, muscles pressing against their shirts.
They stared at the two of them emerging from the tiny bathroom.
Their expressions went from shock—
—to murderous disbelief.
“What did you two… do in there?!”
Issac gave a half-smile that wasn’t a smile. “What do you think?”
Before the men could react, Natalie raised her chin coldly and said, “I’m no longer a virgin. Taking me back now is pointless.”
All three men inhaled sharply, eyes widening.
A beat later, rage flooded their faces as they turned on Issac.
“Do you have any idea whose woman she is? And you touched her?!”
Issac could already guess something was off, but he had zero interest in listening to hired thugs bark at him.
He stepped forward. “Move. Good dogs don’t block the path.”
The two men who tried to block him were sent flying before they even realized he’d moved.
They crashed into the aisle, scattering stunned first-class passengers and nearly knocking over a flight attendant.
Issac walked past them without even looking back.
The two enforcers struggled to rise, but the leader held out a hand to stop them.
“He’s a Martial Warrior,” the man said through clenched teeth. “Wait till we land.”
He immediately connected to the plane’s Wi-Fi and sent a message.
…
Issac returned to his seat, expression calm, as if nothing had happened.
He didn’t care.
At twenty, an eccentric old man had found him, declared his talent monstrous, and taken him away.
He later learned that eccentric old man was the High Jarl of the Draknhold Bastion.
Under that man’s brutal guidance, Issac had grown into the youngest—and strongest—High Jarl in a thousand years. He commanded ruthless elites, suppressed entire regions, and walked through warzones like a force of nature.
But then the truth came.
The strange birthmark he’d carried since childhood?
Not a mark.
A curse.
The Crimson Bind.
If not for his skyrocketing strength through the years, he wouldn’t have even survived this long.
And without a way to break it, he had two years left.
At most.
So he had only one choice—vanish from the world, go home, spend whatever remained with his parents… and with Madison Clarke, the girl he had grown up with, the girl he was supposed to marry.
For five long years he hadn’t contacted them. To protect them, he’d erased himself from their world.
But he’d secretly sent them money—over a hundred million dollars in total—enough for them to live without worry.
Thinking of Madison made Issac’s chest tighten with guilt.
As he drifted in thought, Natalie returned to her seat.
Issac looked at her. “Three professional bodyguards escorting you. You’re being held against your will?”
“More accurately,” she replied coolly, “I was being delivered—gifted—to the strongest man in Redharrow.”
Issac raised a brow. “So you think losing your purity will make him spare you?”
Natalie shot him a cold, mocking glance. “What’s wrong? Scared now?”
Issac shook his head. “Since I already took you… it’s right that I help you. Once we land, stay close to me. I’ll get you out.”
Natalie stared at him in stunned disbelief, unable to form words.
…
The plane landed.
Issac and Natalie exited the terminal. The three suited men followed at a distance—but without hiding their intent.
Outside the airport, more than a dozen burly men were gathered at the pickup area. Every one of them looked like they’d been assembled from granite and steel.
And among them sat a Martial Warrior, aura sharp as a drawn blade.
The moment Issac and Natalie appeared—
Dozens of hostile eyes snapped toward them.
Natalie’s face remained cold, but her heartbeat spiked. Instinctively, she moved closer to Issac.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I told you I’d get you out.”
Instead of stepping back, Issac casually slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as he strode forward with an air of utter indifference.
“That’s him!”
The suited man shouted from behind.
Instantly, the entire group surged forward, encircling Issac and Natalie on all sides.
- Writer
