The air outside was crisp, the early morning breeze brushing gently against Racheal's skin as she walked toward him. The street was quiet, only the faint chirping of birds breaking the silence.
Her steps were slow, hesitant. Her heart beat louder with each movement, her mind racing with unanswered questions. Why did he come so early? What does he want now? Is he here to torment me again?
Mr. Unknown leaned casually against his sleek car, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable at first glance. The plain black shirt he wore clung to his frame in a way that made him look effortlessly striking. Even with the simplest clothing, he carried himself with an aura that made people turn.
Racheal swallowed, trying to steady herself. She tugged at her oversized hoodie, wishing it could shield her from his piercing gaze. Her hair was a little messy from sleep, and her slippers made soft sounds against the ground as she drew nearer.
The moment her eyes lifted, she caught him smirking. His gaze lingered on her a little too long, making her cheeks heat against her will.
"Can't you get enough of me already?" he drawled suddenly, his voice low and mocking, as if he had caught her red-handed. "You've been staring quite a lot."
Racheal's face burned instantly, anger and embarrassment swirling inside her. "I–I was not!" she snapped, crossing her arms defensively, though her racing heart betrayed her calm facade.
His smirk only deepened, as though her reaction entertained him. Then, his eyes narrowed slightly, mischief dancing within them.
"I must say…" he leaned in just a little, his voice dipping to a husky tone, "…you look better when you sleep."
Her breath hitched, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. "Y-you—" she stammered, at a loss for words, her frustration bubbling.
But instead of backing down, she lifted her chin. "What do you even want from me this morning? Do you want people to spread rumors about me again? Or do you just enjoy seeing me in pain?" Her voice cracked slightly, though her eyes tried to look strong. "And tell me—who told you where I live?"
His smirk faded into something darker, more unreadable. His gaze locked on hers, intense enough to make her shiver.
"Ohh, Black Queen," he murmured, his voice almost velvet, yet laced with danger. "I know you more than you know yourself."
Her stomach twisted at his words, a cold shiver crawling down her spine. Before she could ask anything else, his tone shifted—commanding, leaving no room for argument.
"Sit in the car."
Racheal blinked, stunned. "What? No!" she shot back, shaking her head quickly. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
His eyes narrowed, and the smirk returned—this time sharper, more dangerous. "If you don't, I'll carry you myself. And trust me, I won't care who's watching."
Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she considered calling his bluff—but the way he looked at her told her he wasn't joking.
Reluctantly, with her hands trembling slightly, Racheal found herself opening the car door and slipping inside. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she sat stiffly, refusing to look at him.
Meanwhile, Mr. Unknown slid into the driver's seat with a satisfied smirk, as if everything had gone exactly the way he wanted.