The clinking of glasses and murmurs of laughter faded as Racheal followed Mr. Unknown out of the restaurant. The air outside was cooler, but her mind wasn't. Her thoughts scattered restlessly—she hadn't touched a single bite of food, her stomach still aching with hunger. She felt bare without her phone, stripped of control, and dragged into a world she hadn't chosen.
Mr. Unknown walked with his usual unreadable stride, not sparing her even a glance as he unlocked the sleek, black car. The valet bowed slightly, handing him the keys with respect that made Racheal feel even more like an outsider. She slipped into the seat, folding her arms, trying not to let her frustration show.
The drive back was silent. She stared out the window, watching the city blur by, her thoughts wandering far away.
When the car finally slowed in front of her apartment, Racheal let out a shaky breath. But before she could reach for the door, Mr. Unknown's cold voice cut through the quiet.
"Go on. Your stop."
She blinked, startled by how casually he dismissed her, as though she were nothing more than a passenger. He didn't wait for her reply, his hand resting lazily on the wheel, his eyes unreadable in the shadows.
Racheal stepped out, her heart still heavy—and then she froze.
Erica was there. Standing just a few feet from the entrance, as though she had been pacing and waiting all morning. Her eyes widened the moment she saw her friend climb out of the luxurious car. Her mouth dropped open, disbelief etched on her face.
"Racheal…" she whispered, the name almost sticking in her throat.
Her expression shifted quickly—shock turning into hurt, then into something sharp and demanding. Her arms folded across her chest, her brows furrowed, her entire stance screaming that she expected answers.
Behind Racheal, the car's tinted window slid down just slightly. Erica caught a fleeting glimpse of the driver—a shadowed face, sharp eyes, and a smirk that seemed to curve before the glass rose again. The sight alone sent chills racing through her veins.
Racheal's lips parted, but no words came. For a moment, it was just the silence between them—Erica's wounded stare, Mr. Unknown's lingering presence, and Racheal caught helplessly in the middle.
**********************************
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Mr. Unknown's apartment buzzed with a different energy. Gideon and the other friend sat sprawled on the couch, controllers in hand, a video game flashing across the screen. But their focus wasn't on the game.
The door clicked open, and their heads turned instantly.
"There you are," Gideon said, narrowing his eyes. "Where did you vanish to this morning?"
Their friend didn't answer immediately. He set his keys on the counter, his expression as unreadable as ever—but something was different. His stride was lighter, his lips faintly curved in the ghost of a smile.
The silence stretched. Gideon raised a brow, exchanging a glance with the other guy. "You're in a good mood. That's new."
Mr. Unknown ignored them, shrugging out of his jacket. But Gideon wasn't letting it go.
"Don't tell me…" Gideon leaned forward, a sly grin creeping across his face. "This is about Racheal, isn't it?"
The shift was instant. Mr. Unknown's smirk disappeared, his eyes hardening as he snapped his head toward Gideon.
"Don't push it." His voice was sharp, cutting through the room like glass.
The tension settled thickly in the air. Gideon's grin faltered, but curiosity still flickered in his eyes. Mr. Unknown said nothing more, but his silence only deepened their suspicion—because if there was one thing clear, it was that Racheal Addison had managed to shake the man no one else could.