Bound Together By A Mysterious Force

Chapter 3: The Black SUV

Vanessa POV

The blinding lights hit my eyelids, and for a moment, I thought I was done. Everything happened too fast—like a flash. I stood frozen, paralyzed, but thankfully, someone shoved me out of the way. “Watch out!” He shouts.

I glance back at the car. It’s black, totally tinted, and continues to accelerate away even after nearly knocking me out.

“Sa…Safaree?” I gasp, looking up at him with a relieved smile. It’s my designer.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his hands steady but his face full of concern.

I try to breathe, but it almost feels like my lungs are stuck. “Yeah. I’m…I’m fine.” My voice trembles slightly, still shaken by the rush of adrenaline. “That car almost ran me over.”

Safaree’s eyes flick to the street, but the SUV has already vanished. “What the hell was that? You sure it was an accident?”

I shake my head, still processing everything. “No idea. It just came straight at me.”

He frowns, his brows knitting in confusion. “Could’ve been a mistake, right? Or maybe they were drunk? Didn’t want to own up to their actions, so they ran?” He suggests, touching his beard as he gazes back at the scenery.

“Mistake?” I arch an eyebrow at him. “I got a message on my phone just before that happened. I doubt this was a mistake.”

Safaree’s gaze softens as he reaches for my phone. “Let me see.”

I hand it to him, but my heart sinks when I see the screen.

“What the—?” My hands shake as I try to refresh it but nothing comes up. “It was right here!”

Safaree takes a step close, his voice low. “What did it say?”

I inhale deeply. “To go back to Dan. He’s a cheating, manipulative ass, and I just broke up with him.”

“Wow, that’s a lot to digest. I’m sorry,” he says, letting out a sigh. He catches the frustration building in my face and chooses not to probe any deeper about Dan.

“Okay. Let’s get to security. We need answers. Don’t stress—it’s gonna be okay.”

I nod, trying to calm my nerves, but as he reaches to brush something off my cheek, I feel an odd comfort. I can’t help but let out a small smile as the tension eases just a bit in the moment.

We approach the security desk, and Safaree asks, “Hello, sir. We need information on a black SUV that just left.”

The security guard glances up, clearly startled. He frowns, trying to process the question. “A black SUV, you said? Why are you looking for it, Monsieur?”

“I got a threatening message on my phone, and then, out of nowhere, this car nearly ran me over—if not for Safaree, who pulled me out of the way just in time. It sped off like nothing happened. The plate started with KM2, but I didn’t catch the rest.” I say, recalling everything again, the unease bubbling up, still, I stay strong.

“Uh, I…I’m sorry to hear that, madame. That is not acceptable. Your safety is our priority at Nolinski Paris hotel—c’est pourquoi all vehicle plates entering are recorded in our system,” He replies hurriedly, turning to look at the computer. “Let’s see…KM2…uh, black SUV, yes…how long ago did you say that was?”

“Like, about 15 minutes ago,” I say.

“Okay, okay, I will be with you soon,” he says, continuing to hit the keyboard aggressively.

“Is there a problem?” Safaree chimes in before I can, noticing how long it’s taking him to find a plate that just left minutes ago.

“No, just a sec…okay, Ahah!”

“What is it?” I reply, my curiosity holding me firm.

“Ah, oui. That vehicle just left— KM-251-BA. Just some delivery guy who came to drop off a package for a guest,” He says quickly, shifting his gaze back to the keyboard.

“Wait, where is the security footage? Let’s see it.” Safaree continues.

“The security cameras, they are having issues, but they are being fixed, oui,” He says, continuing to press his keyboard like two people aren’t right in front of him having a conversation.

“That’s not enough,” I say.

I lean closer, making him look me dead in the eyeball.

“Look, Monsieur” I pause to glance at his badge.

“Louis.”

“I need you to take this matter up. Right now.” I say boldly, making it clear I’m serious.

“We need that plate number forwarded to the authorities now. This isn’t something to overlook. If it weren’t for me that car would have crushed her.” Safaree continues, his voice firm.

“Okay. I understand. I…I will forward this zis to the proper channels. I am sorry for your experience madame.”

Safaree continues: “And we need your number. Keep us updated on this.”

The guard wipes a nervous bead of sweat from his forehead, his hand shaking slightly as he scribbles down his contact info on a piece of paper. “I…I will do that, Monsieur.”

I take it. “We’ll be waiting.”

It’s been a week since I left Paris, returning to my hometown, Los Angeles, with my friend Lila. I’m incredibly thankful for her support—she welcomed me with open arms and let me stay at her place after Dan abandoned me.

Tonight, I’m excited to meet Safaree for the grand opening of his new club. Lila even lent me a gorgeous gold dress, helping me feel revitalized after all the heartbreak.

I spot Safaree across the crowded room, his figure standing out in the sea of people. My heart skips a beat as I make my way over to him, my excitement bubbling over.

“Hey, Safaree!” I grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His smile lit up as he pulls back, eyes scanning me. “How are you, Vanessa? You look amazing.”

I feel a warmth at his compliment. “Look at you! The fashion designer himself. It’s always a pleasure to see your unique flair,” I say with a grin that matches his.

“Thank you! I appreciate that,” he replies.

“The launch is going well—regular tickets sold out. I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You deserve every bit of it.”

“Thanks. But I’m just getting started. Tonight isn’t about judging the business, though. Let’s see how it goes long-term.” He replies.

“Come on, you’re going to be just fine. The word ‘fail’ isn’t in your vocabulary,” I tease.

“Let’s sit and grab a drink.” He suggests, his grin infectious.

“We haven’t really had a chance to catch up since Paris. I’m sorry I’ve been so caught up with the show and everything, and I couldn’t reach out. I heard you backed out. What happened?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

I sigh, rolling my eyes. “It’s okay. You know… it’s Dan.”

“He never cared about me. He just wanted to sleep with me. Once I refused him, he didn’t allow me to continue,” I explain, shaking my head as I throw another shot down my throat. The burn a reminder that I need to move on.

“Wow, I’m really sorry to hear that. He must be out of his mind to overlook someone like you. You should move on. He doesn’t deserve you,” Safaree says sincerely.

A small smile tugs at my lips. It feels nice to hear those words. “You know what they say—great minds think alike,” I say, meeting his gaze.

I sigh then shake my head.

“What’s bothering you? You can tell me. It’s okay to vent,” he urges.

“I thought that was bad enough. Then, I went to the lobby and was harassed by a woman claiming to be his fiancée. She was going off about their upcoming wedding, how she’s going to be the Queen of The Jackson Empire, and that I should stay away.” I say it all quickly, hoping it’ll sound less real. But it doesn’t.

Safaree’s eyes widen, and his mouth drops open. “Wait… did you say Jackson Empire?”

“Yes. Daniel Jackson. He was my boyfriend. I thought you knew.”

“I thought you meant a different Daniel. No way!”

My chest tightens and my eyes shoot open.

“Daniel is my friend, and the woman you’re talking about is Charlotte Parker.” He continues.

“Everyone knows they’re together. I can’t believe you didn’t.”

A bitter laugh escapes me, my voice hollow. “So this is why Dan never wanted to be seen with me in public. He fed me this crap about being a ‘private person,’ and I bought it. All this time…” My voice cracks, and I scoff. “f*****g asshole.”

“And he never mentioned you, not even in Paris.” Safaree continues, disbelief written all over his face.

My heart sinks deeper. “She said the same thing. Then, I get a message… telling me to marry him.”

My eyes shoot open. “What if he sent it? Think about it—it has to be him. But the question is, why? If he likes me, then why is he being creepy about it and allowing Charlotte to marry him if it’s me he wants?”

Safaree pauses, his brow furrowing. Then he remembers something. “Wait. That car… the one that nearly hit you? My police contact ran the plate number. It doesn’t exist.”

My stomach drops. “What do you mean it doesn’t exist?”

“Yes, they looked into it, and there’s no record at all. It’s like the car was never registered.”

“You’re lieing!” My mind races, trying to process his words.

“That’s not even the weirdest part,” Safaree adds, his tone ominous. “The guy we spoke to has disappeared—nowhere to be found.”

I gasp, fear creeping in.

Just then, my phone buzzes with a message from the anonymous number.

“YOU ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME. DON’T LET ANYONE TAKE DANIEL AWAY FROM YOU, OR ELSE YOU’LL REGRET IT.”

Panic surges through me. Why is Dan doing this?

“Well, it looks like you might get some answers,” Safaree says, his gaze shifting toward the crowd.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my heart pounding.

“Speak of the devil,” he replies, nodding toward the entrance.

It’s Dan and Charlotte.

My heart sinks, and a wave of dread washes over me as I spot him. I drop the glass in my hand. The sound of it shattering barely registers as I zone out, my mind going blank.