Chapter Nine: The Enemy Within

Flora's POV

The city was eerily quiet as I wandered through its dimly lit streets. The glow of the streetlights barely illuminated the cracked sidewalks, and the distant sound of sirens felt like a ghostly echo in the vast emptiness. My heart was heavy, my thoughts racing as I replayed the events at the bar. Lucian’s voice, his taunts, his men chasing me—it was all a blur of fear and adrenaline.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, the cool night air biting against my skin. The city that never sleeps had seemingly decided to take a nap, leaving me alone in its vast, empty expanse. I glanced at the glowing signs of closed stores, my eyes lingering on a convenience store with its lights dimmed but not entirely off.

I approached the store, peeking through the glass door to ensure it was empty. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do for the night. Pushing the door open, I slipped inside, the faint scent of cleaning products and stale air greeting me.

Finding a corner near the back, I lowered myself onto the cold tiled floor. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but sleep refused to come. My mind was too restless, my body too alert. Every creak of the building, every distant noise, made me jump.

Hours seemed to pass in silence until a sudden car honk outside shattered the quiet. I stiffened, my heart racing as I listened for any other sounds. Footsteps. My stomach twisted as I realized someone was approaching.

The store’s front window cast long shadows across the floor as a figure stepped into view. The man stood by the car, his silhouette partially obscured by the glow of the headlights. He didn’t move closer, but his voice carried across the empty lot.

“Don’t be afraid,” he called out, his tone calm and measured. “I just want to talk.”

I remained frozen, my back pressed against the wall. My mind raced with questions. Who was he? Why was he here?

“I mean well,” he added, stepping closer but keeping his distance. “I promise, I mean no harm.”

As he stepped into the dim light, I could see him more clearly. He was tall, well-dressed, and carried himself with an air of confidence that felt both reassuring and unsettling. His eyes met mine, and I noted the soft kindness in his expression.

“My name is Jonathan,” he said, his voice steady. “I saw what happened at the bar tonight. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicion bubbling to the surface. “How do I know you’re not with him?”

Jonathan’s expression softened, and he held up his hands as if to show he meant no harm. “I’m not like Lucian,” he said firmly. “I don’t work for him. I don’t even like the guy.”

At the mention of Lucian’s name, my body tensed. “How do you know him?”

“I was at the bar,” he explained, his tone gentle. “I saw how he treated you. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Safe. The word felt foreign, almost laughable after everything that had happened.

“Please,” he said, gesturing toward his car. “Let me take you somewhere safe. You don’t have to stay out here all night.”

I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to stay away. But the weariness in my bones and the sincerity in his voice made me pause.

“I don’t trust you,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jonathan nodded, understanding. “That’s fair. But you don’t have to trust me right now. Just let me help you.”

For a moment, I considered bolting, running as far from this man as I could. But something about him, something in his eyes, made me falter. Against my better judgment, I nodded.

Jonathan opened the car door for me, and I climbed in, my movements slow and deliberate. He slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a quiet hum.

The car ride was silent at first, the only sound coming from the tires rolling over the pavement. Jonathan glanced at me occasionally, his expression thoughtful but unreadable.

“Are you alright?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.

I shrugged, keeping my gaze fixed out the window. “I don’t know.”

He nodded, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “That’s fair. It’s been a long night.”

I didn’t respond, my mind too clouded with memories of Lucian and the fear that still lingered in my chest.

As the car moved along the highway, I began to notice the surroundings. At first, they were just fleeting glimpses of familiarity—street signs, buildings, landmarks. But then, recognition hit me like a punch to the gut.

My breath caught in my throat as I realized where we were headed.

“No,” I whispered, panic creeping into my voice. “No, no, no!”

Jonathan’s gaze flicked toward me, his calm demeanor replaced with something colder.

“Stop the car,” I demanded, my voice rising. “Turn around!”

Jonathan didn’t respond. Instead, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun, his movements swift and practiced.

“Sit back,” he said, his voice devoid of the warmth it had held earlier. “And keep quiet.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the barrel of the gun. My body trembled, every muscle screaming at me to run, but there was nowhere to go.

“Lucian doesn’t care if you’re dead or alive,” Jonathan said, his tone chilling. “He just wants you back.”

The weight of his words sank in, and I slumped back into the seat, my heart pounding in my chest. Tears streamed down my face, but I bit my lip to keep from sobbing.

The rest of the drive passed in agonizing silence. My mind raced with thoughts of escape, but every time I glanced at Jonathan, the gun in his hand was a cruel reminder of my reality.

Finally, the car came to a halt in front of a sprawling mansion. The sight of it made my stomach churn—it was Lucian’s.

Jonathan stepped out of the car, walking around to my side and opening the door. His grip on my arm was firm but not rough as he guided me toward the house.

The door opened before we reached it, and Lucian stood in the doorway, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Ah, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with mock affection. “You came back to me.”

I glared at him, my fear momentarily replaced with defiance. “I didn’t come back. I was brought here.”

Lucian chuckled, a low, menacing sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Details, darling.”

He gestured for Jonathan to bring me closer, and I stumbled as he pushed me forward.

Lucian’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward him. Before I could react, he yanked me onto his lap, his grip unrelenting.

His fingers traced a slow, deliberate line from my ankle to my inner thigh, his touch light but possessive.

“I told you, sweetheart,” he whispered into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You can never run away from me.”