Flora’s initial response was sheer panic, as the man’s massive hand stifled her breath in an instant.
She tried to break free, but she was stuck tight against his rock-hard chest and couldn’t budge.
The suffocating sensation swelled like a tsunami, her chest feeling like it might burst from the unbearable pain.
A fear like no other washed over Flora – darkness, despair… In her mind she was thinking to herself, “Justin, was this how you felt back then? You must’ve gone through tremendous pain. Now I’m getting a taste of it. Will I be free soon? Living without you is just wearing me out…”
Feeling her briefly passing out, her kidnapper let up a bit.
Air whooshed into her nostrils, and the thought of giving in was short-lived. When there’s a glimmer of hope, no one lets go. Flora inhaled deeply, desperate for air, “You… Who the heck are you?”
The guy caressed her face, then flicked off her blindfold with a single finger.
She tried to look around, but he held her head steady, forcing her to keep her eyes forward.
There was a ginormous screen hanging on the spotless white wall. After a few weird noises, a young, lively face appeared before Flora.
One slide after another projected, unearthing memories that lay dormant, like a movie reel. The guy in the images had short, dark brown hair, peculiar eyes, distinct features, and a laid-back grin that never left his lips.
Flora’s heartache spread like Pandora’s box unleashed; those were the photos capturing the precious moments she and Justin had shared.
As the images played, she could sense her captor’s fury building. The hands that once stroked her face now clenched uncontrollably.
The image froze on a sunset scene, showing the man’s striking profile as he leaned down to kiss Flora’s cheek.
“Who are you? Who are you? Justin, is that you?” Flora’s voice wavered as she wriggled, desperate to break free and see his face for herself. She wondered if the miracle she had been praying for had really happened.
“Heh—” A cold, distant laugh echoed from behind her. The man’s right hand moved to Flora’s neck.
“Do you think you, all tainted now, have any right to speak his name?” the man asked from behind.
Flora’s last hope shattered, she was as still as a statue, staring blankly ahead, asking, “Why am I still daydreaming that he’s alive?”
The man’s grip tightened instinctively, and Flora jolted back to the present. “What’s your endgame?” she asked.
The man eased his grip and blindfolded her once more, thrusting her back into a darkness she couldn’t get used to.
A biting sensation radiated from Flora neck, and as the man stepped away, she felt the blood from the wound trickle down her collar.
Even though it was autumn, a thin layer of sweat had already formed on her forehead.
“Snap a few pics, then find a spot to ditch her,” the man said coldly, leaving without a backward glance.
“What’s the point of showing me these?” asked Flora. Each collection of images just now was a memory shared between her and Justin, known to only a select few.
The guy’s reply was a frosty chuckle, followed by the camera shutter clicking.
They didn’t make things any harder for Flora. After yanking her into a car, they drove for about ten minutes before tossing her out onto a bustling street.
Her arm scraped the concrete, leaving her in a disheveled mess.
When she was pushed out of the vehicle, her hands were finally free. Flora’s first move was to rip off the blindfold.
Just then, a car screeched to a halt right behind her.
“Flora.” Josh rushed out of the car, lending her a hand, asking, “You alright?”
Aside from the scrapes on her arm and the bite mark, she was unscathed. “Josh, how’d you know I was here?”
“Let’s hop in the car first,” Josh said seriously, taking her hand and helping her into the vehicle. After grabbing some meds from a drugstore, he parked on the side of the road. “Who were those guys? You saw them?” Flora asked.
“Yeah, I tailed their car the whole time but lost them a street back. Luckily, they brought you back along the same route.” Josh was relieved but didn’t dare call the cops, choosing to wait instead.
“I don’t know who they are either,” Flora admitted, watching him treat her wound. After a moment’s hesitation, she whispered, “Josh, do you think Justin could still be alive?”
Josh paused mid-action, looking up with a solemn expression. “Actually, Justin’s family has kept his death under wraps. Only you and I are in the know. You were there with him till the end, Flora. You know if he’s gone more than I do.”
The pain in Flora wound barely registered, but the apologetic words of Justin’s doctor from that day were etched in her memory. Flora pulled her arm away, pressing her face against the car window, her eyes closed.
Sensing her need for space, Josh knew she didn’t want to talk anymore. He sighed and drove her home.
The next day, Flora stood by the elevator entrance, looking wiped out, her hand covering her mouth as she yawned repeatedly.
“Feeling tired?” A sudden voice came from above her.
Flora turned her head to see the man’s strong and handsome side profile. Dylan was quite tall, about six feet three inches. Today, he wore a black suit with a maple-colored Armani shirt inside.
Even with such a color, he didn’t give off a drab impression; on the contrary, he seemed bold and flashy.
He looked down at her, his narrow, sharp eyes appearing even more so from his vantage point.
“Thanks, Mr. Bowles, I just had a rough night.” Flora didn’t want any attention, having finally managed to escape it.
Seeing her deliberately avoiding him, Dylan grew somewhat annoyed. When his exclusive elevator dinged open, he demanded, “Ride up with me.”
Flora stared straight ahead, finding it quite a coincidence that the employee elevator she’d been waiting for quickly descended. So she coldly replied, “No need, I’ll take the elevator I belong.”
The door opened, and she was about to walk in, however…
Standing at the entrance, Lilian showed no intention of making way for her.
A few colleagues from other departments stood inside. Flora tried to squeeze in, but unexpectedly, an arm suddenly grabbed her wrist, yanking her back and swiftly shoving her into the adjacent elevator.
His act was so fast that the people inside couldn’t see whose arm it was.
As the elevator doors closed, Lilian’s expression soured. She stepped back, gripping the folders in her hands tightly, recognizing the signet ring on Dylan’s hand.
Flora stumbled out of the elevator. Her open collar exposed the band-aid on her neck.
Dylan’s tongue grazed the corner of his mouth, his gaze turning thoughtful.
He leaned against the elevator, arms crossed over his chest, saying, “You don’t need to cover it. Just let it show.”
