He carried her past a stair down the hallway into the dining room.
But Rhea did pay mind to her surroundings any longer—she was fuming.
He placed her on the table edge.
Rhea's feet touched the cold marble floor as she immediatelytried to get off the table, but he stood between her legs, blocking her way.
Then he placed a plate of food on her laps, before she could push past him.
"You should eat," he said, in low voice. "You are too skinny. How do you survive in the out world being so skinny?"
The clashing sound of slap cut across the mansion and everything went still for seconds.
The man turn his head back at Rhea, then glanced at her palm and noticed, it has turned red.
He picked up a napkin, dipped it into an open jug of water on the table, and begins wiping her palm.
"You must be hurting." He said, a painful look on his face.
But Rhea scoffed glancing from the food to the man's face, to her hand he is nursing. "I'm not your pet or your possession." She jerked her hand free from his. "What makes you think you can be doing all that you want with me?" What ever sick ideas that is going on in your brain right now that makes you think you can treat me like this...like a doll... erase it." Rhea's voice was low, her stomach churned, with revulsion and disbelief.
Then continued, "I woke up feeling disoriented, instead of you giving me an explanation, you bathe me against my will, that wasn't enough now you are feeding me?! I'm not an object." She roared.
He bit down on his teeth as his jaw clenched tight against the searing heat from the slap on his face.
He could see how angry she was but said nothing.
He thought what he did was right, he only wanted to make her comfortable. Not knowing he was going about it the wrong way.
She felt she was no longer just a one-night stand, but a prop in some elaborate, golden nightmare.
"I don't even know your name, why should I eat this? And besides I not hungry" she lied, placing the plate of food beside her. Fervently hoping that her stomach wouldn't rumble.
He furrowed his brows, "I'm sorry I made you feel that way, that wasn't my plan." Then shift close to her, took her hand in his and said gently, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanted to make you more comfortable. But I didn't know I was going about it wrongly."
Something in his face faltered. When Rhea told him she didn't know his name. It was so quick she might've missed it if she hadn't been watching him. it was as if a strange stillness passed over him, a sadness too quiet to name.
"I want to go home..." Rhea brushed it off muttering, as she adjusting her posture, pretending not to notice.
But later, when he wasn't looking, her brows knit together. Why did he look... sad? Why did he look like I mentioned an abominable subject?
I am the one trapped in a stranger's house. So why does it feel like he's mourning something? She pondered.
"And also, my name is Zeenare," he introduced.
Rhea said nothing as she'd love not to know anything about him, and to get the hell out of here, away from him, as soon as possible.
"I'll take you home, after you change." He told her.
Hell no! You are not coming close to my house!
"Thank you for offering, but I'd prefer to go alone." She said, smiling at him.
"I see," he muttered, amused by her polite rejection. But he was going to take her regardless.
After Rhea has changed into her clothes.
Rhea's legs felt stiff the moment she tried to walk by herself, that she almost fell over. But she walked, a dull ache between her thighs and a strange, heavy weariness pulling at her.
Zeenare led her from the suffocating luxury he called a home, down into more silent, gilded hallways.
She just wanted to be back in her small, messy apartment, where things made sense. That was home to her.
He pushed open another heavy, discreet door.
Nah! This guy must be into something illegal; a crime lord, probably.
The air shifted. This time, it was cooler, a hint of leather and high-octane fuel. Her eyes widened, trying to adjust.
This wasn't another ornate chamber. This was a garage. She knew this only because it had cars. It was not like any garage she'd ever seen.
The garage stretched out, vast and brightly lit by square, recessed lights that glowed from a textured, wooden-slatted ceiling. It was a beautiful view.
It felt less like a place for cars and more like a minimalist art gallery. It was the number of the cars themselves that truly stopped her breath.
They weren't just cars; they were predatory machines, so sleek, gleaming under the precise lighting like dangerous jewels.
There were at least nine she in view, maybe more further back in the shadows.
One was a deep, almost black green, another a pure, reflective black, the third, a pristine white. They looked futuristic, almost alien, with sharp angles and lines that screamed speed and inaccessible power. No dust, no oil stains, just perfect, silent power on display.
Her mind which was numb with exhaustion, could only offer a simple, sardonic thought.
Of course he had a garage like this. It was just another extension of his bizarre, overwhelming world.
This wasn't just wealthy; this was a whole different dimension of existence.
"I think this guy should be investigated," she said under her breath.
The thought of getting into one of these, driven by him, felt utterly surreal. She just wanted her familiar Uber, her normal street. This was just... too much.
"Get in," he said gently, holding the car door open for her. His palm over her head protectively as she ducked inside. Not waiting for him to shut the door, she pulled the door shut herself.
As they drove onto the highway, Rhea pressed her face against the window, she was confused. She didn't know this place. Succulent green field, glimpses of what looked like luxurious estates, all unfamiliar.
Where's this? Is this the same country and town I grew up in? How come I didn't know there's an island like this? It's straight out of a romance anime.
"Where should I take you for your appointment?" Zeenare asked.
If I don't give him a location, he might decide for me. I better talk, because I don't know where I am right now
So she quickly gave him the location of a university across town, far from her apartment and her school.
The car came to a smooth stop at the front of the school gate.
"Thank you for the ride... Zeenare," Rhea said, her hand already on the door handle, twisting it hard. It didn't budge—it was locked. Her eyes shot to his, a hint of panic.
"Hmm, Zeenare? The door!" she demanded, her voice tight. Her eyes darted even as she tried to sound calm.
What will she do if she knows, I know everything about her.
In a low voice he asked, "Are you scared of me?"
Yes, extremely scared of you. Let me out!
"Nonsense," she forced a laugh, too loud, too high. "Why would I be scared of you? You took care of me, more than most people would!" She tried the handle again, rattling it.
"And you think I believe that? I see how nervous you have been since you woke up." he muttered, in a low voice. "Even now!" He laid his head on the steering wheel, staring at her, his gaze intense.
"That's not true! You are mistaken," she countered, her voice slightly shaky. Even as she held his gaze.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as he leaned towards her, "Is that so?" He replied, unbuckling his seatbelt, closing the distance, his eyes lingering on her lips.
In a flat voice he said, "Kiss me then," his warm breath inches away from her face.
Oh God. What have I done to myself? How did I align myself with this man! When I said I needed a one-night stand, I wasn't prepared for this kind. This is insane! Her mind screamed in protest. If this is what I have to do to get you off my case? So be it. A wave of desperate resignation washed over her.
Rhea leaned in, stiffly, barely touching his lips with hers – a quick, forced peck. She pulled back instantly, her face flushed.
Zeenare looked at her face for a moment, then moved his gaze back to her lips and scoffed, a low, sound.
What will you do if I want to be in your life, Rhea?
In a swift second, Zeenare's hand shot out, cupping the back of her head, pulling her forward roughly. His lips claiming them hungrily, as he slammed onto hers, his tongue intertwining with hers. As he demanded entry, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth, sucking on it, savoring her taste.
Her mind screamed No! but her body felt paralyzed, overwhelmed by his intensity. As Rhea's hands flew up, pushing back against his shoulders, but his grip on her was unyielding.
After long minutes, Zeenare pulled back, his eyes still burning into hers. He reached for her face, wiped the corner of her lips with his thumb gently — then casually pushed a loose strand of hair back into place.
Zeenare's voice was low and scratchy, like it scraped the back of his throat, as he asked, "How does this feel?"
Rhea said nothing. Couldn't. Her breath was shallow. Her chest rising too fast.
Eyes wide. Lips sore.
Her whole body trembled, as she freezed in place.
She couldn't even blink.
Then Zeenare leaned in a little closer and said, low and certain,
"That's how you kiss. Don't forget it, Princess."
The lock clicked as he opened the door, stepped out like nothing had just happened, walked around the car, and opened hers — waiting.
Rhea stumbled out, legs weak, barely holding her up, because seriously, what the hell had just happened?
She shot him a glare, her eyes flicking to his lips — still swollen from that rough, uninvited kiss. Rhea's brows pinched as her stomach turned in a mix of disgust and fury, she turned sharply and stormed past him, each unsteady step screaming: I'm getting the hell away from you.
As he watch her leave, he muttered under his breath, "We'll see again, Rhea and when we do, you will come to understand why I'd to do this, My love."