EATERY ★
The cozy little eatery buzzed with life—forks clinking against plates, the sizzle of frying oil drifting from the open kitchen, and the faint aroma of garlic bread lingering in the air. Couples laughed softly at nearby tables, while a waiter weaved between chairs balancing trays stacked with milkshakes and burgers.
Hardin leaned back in his seat, eyes narrowing at the empty plates stacked in front of Tessa. "Now I see you're really a foodie—you've cleared three plates of spaghetti and meatballs already."
"I told you I was famished," Tessa said with a shrug, licking a smear of sauce off her thumb. "You just happened to show up at the right time."
"Hmm. You know you're paying for this, right?"
Her fork paused midair. "Wait—you said you were covering the bill!"
Hardin dug into his pockets dramatically, patting them with a sigh. "Just realized a few minutes ago…I lost my wallet."
Her chair screeched as she leaned forward. "Oh my gawd! So that's why you haven't ordered anything? You tricked me, you wicked fool!"
A couple at the next table snickered, and suddenly, a shrill gasp broke from across the room.
"Ahhh! Hardin White from Crimson Kiss!" A group of high school girls rushed over, giggling uncontrollably, phones in hand.
"I love you, Hardin! Please, your autograph!" one squealed, sliding a pen across the table.
With practiced ease, Hardin signed, flashing that smug rockstar smile.
"You're really handsome," another chimed in, sneaking a look at Tessa. "Is she your girlfriend? She's so cute."
"Yeah. Very cute, right?" Hardin said smoothly, his eyes flickering toward Tessa.
The girls squealed again, cheeks pink. "Nice meeting you! We're such big fans!" They waved before skipping back to their booth, already snapping selfies with his signature.
Tessa glared daggers at him. "Hardin, what's wrong with you? You keep telling people I'm your girlfriend! First it was Nikolai, now them. Are you crazy?"
"You could've told them it was a lie if you hated it. They asked—not me," Hardin replied coolly, leaning back as if nothing bothered him.
"But you admitted it!"
"Because…" His voice dropped, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. "…you really are cute."
Her heart stumbled, thudding hard in her chest. "Huh?"
"Nothing." He reached for his glass of water, hiding the flicker of truth in his eyes. "Just keep eating. You talk too much."
"I should keep eating? Who's paying for this mountain of food? You just said you lost your wallet."
"I was pulling your leg," Hardin said, lips twitching with amusement.
"Well, I've lost my appetite."
"Really? You sure you don't wanna munch on those?" he teased, nodding toward the half-eaten plate.
"Gawd!" Tessa muttered, but her hand betrayed her as she scooped up the fork again.
Hardin's lips curved into that lazy, satisfied smile as he watched her eat.
OUTSKIRTS – RUSTED VILLA HIDEOUT
They dragged Tricia out of the van and into a secluded villa on the edge of the city. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned countryside mansion—paint peeling, iron gates groaning, vines crawling across its walls. But inside, it told another story.
The rooms were dimly lit, velvet curtains blocking the daylight, chandeliers swaying from a cracked ceiling. Expensive leather chairs and a long mahogany table hinted that it had once belonged to someone powerful, now repurposed into a gang's hideout. Cigarette smoke lingered in the air, mixing with the metallic scent of weapons scattered in corners.
They dumped Tricia onto a chair at the center of the room and bound her tightly.
"Bring water," one of the men ordered.
Another splashed her face, jolting her awake. Tricia coughed violently, blinking at the unfamiliar room.
"What the hell…? Where am I?" she muttered, her eyes darting around. Then, with a sharp glare, "Release me right now. Why are you holding me captive? Do you want money? My father has more than enough—he'll pay you. Just let me go."
She scoffed bitterly. "Gawd, I told my father coming to New York was a mistake. Barely twenty-four hours here and I've already been kidnapped. What a city."
"Shut your mouth, girl," the bald one snapped. "Or we'll shut it for you."
Tricia tilted her head, smirking. "I have a mouth, and what's it for? Talking. Ever heard of freedom of speech? I'm using mine."
"Not here," the man sneered. "In here, there's no law. No freedom. Only silence."
"You're making a mistake," Tricia shot back, her tone sharp as a blade. "If my dad finds out, your heads will be in the dirt before you can blink. So if you value your lives, you'd better untie me and walk away."
The bald man narrowed his eyes. "And who exactly are you supposed to be?"
"I'm Don Ricco's daughter," she said proudly. "And trust me—you won't like what happens when he learns I've been abducted."
The two men glanced at each other—and then burst into laughter.
"You think that's funny?" Tricia snapped, eyes blazing.
Just then, one of their phones rang.
"Watch her. Don't let her escape," the man said, stepping outside to answer the call.
Tricia twisted against the ropes. "Let me out of here!" she yelled.
The bald man sighed, shaking his head. "Guess I've got no choice but to shut you up."
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tied it firmly over her mouth.
"Mmmph! Mmmph!" Tricia growled through the gag, muffled but still defiant.
"Good," the man smirked. "Much better. Can't stand all that noise."
BACK AT CRESTVIEW COLLEGE ✦
ROCK GIRLS PRIVATE CLASS
Cathryn leaned back in her chair, twirling her pen with a sly grin. "So…it's done. Tessa's been taken care of."
Caroline's jaw dropped. "You did what? Are you insane? You actually went that far?"
"What's with you, girl?" Sabrina raised her brows, half-amused, half-disgusted.
Caroline slammed her hand on the desk. "Cathryn, are you this obsessed? You better call off whoever you sent or I swear I'll report you to the cops."
At that, Cathryn and Sabrina exchanged glances—then burst into laughter.
"This isn't funny!" Caroline snapped.
Cathryn smirked. "It is. And tell me, do you think the cops would actually believe you? Got evidence? Nah. You don't wanna be dragged into this, so stay in your lane and stop preaching to me."
Caroline's voice shook with anger. "What you're doing is dangerous. You're gonna destroy yourself chasing after a guy who doesn't even care about you. He's a f**king playboy! And Tessa? You don't even know if he likes her or not, yet you're plotting like some psycho. This is sick, Cathryn."
"I don't care." Cathryn's smile never wavered.
"F**k you. You disgust me. Eww." Caroline pushed her chair back and stormed out.
"Go to hell, bitch! We don't need you anyway!" Cathryn shouted after her.
The room fell quiet. Then Cathryn crossed her legs, smirk curling at her lips.
"Hmm. Mission successful. Tessa is out of the way now."
EVENING – WHITE'S MANSION ★
KITCHEN ★
"Tessa, that's not how to dice. I keep telling you, you should do it like this," Mrs. Cristin said, demonstrating with swift, precise chops.
"Mum, this is my method of dicing," Tessa retorted, puffing her cheeks.
"You this girl," Mrs. Cristin sighed, then they both broke into soft chuckles. For a moment, the mansion's kitchen felt warm and ordinary, the sound of the knife tapping against the wooden board blending with their laughter.
"Finish up making the dinner. I want to go pick something up, I'll be back quite late," Mrs. Cristin said, drying her hands and reaching for her purse.
"What's that? I can help you go pick it up," Tessa offered, wiping her hands on a napkin.
"You don't have to, just finish up here," Mrs. Cristin replied with a quick smile, though her tone carried a firmness that hinted she didn't want further questions. She slipped out before Tessa could insist.
As the door shut behind her, Tessa frowned. Back quite late? Her mother rarely stayed out in the evenings. Still, she shook her head and turned back to the chopping board, unaware that Mrs. Cristin's phone had just buzzed a coded message from Cobra.
Mrs Cristin's footsteps echoed down the grand hall as her expression hardened.
RICCO'S MANSION ✦
"Dang it! What do you mean you couldn't find her at college?!" Don Ricco's voice thundered across the marble hall, his glare pinning the driver in place. "Weren't you supposed to pick her up after classes?"
"I waited for her, boss. I even searched inside the campus, but…" the driver stammered, sweat beading down his forehead. "I couldn't find her."
Ricco's jaw flexed, a dangerous calm replacing his fury. "You know you deserve death for coming back without my daughter."
"I—I'm sorry, sir," the driver whispered.
"Sorry doesn't mean a damn thing." Ricco's hand slammed down on his desk, making the glass of whiskey tremble. "Get out of my sight before I put a bullet in your skull."
The driver bolted. Silence fell, thick and poisonous. Ricco leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, eyes dark with suspicion.
"Let it not be what I'm thinking," he muttered. "Elena Cristin… You better not have gotten to Tricia." His lips curved into a dangerous smirk. "Seems it's time for a little hunt."
He pulled out his phone, dialing without hesitation.
"I want a delivery," he said coldly when the line clicked. "Get me Elena Cristin. Bring her here as soon as possible. Alive. Gonna send you a picture of her. I give you just few minutes."
He ended the call and downed the rest of his drink, his mind already playing the game two steps ahead.
.....
Mrs. Cristin adjusted the scarf over her head as she stepped out onto the dimly lit street, dusting her hands against her apron. The night air was cool, carrying the faint hum of traffic from the main road. She glanced left and right, then waved down a passing yellow cab.
The car screeched to a halt. The driver leaned over, his face half-hidden under a baseball cap.
"Where to, madam?" he asked in a thick voice.
She gave him a small smile, relieved she wouldn't have to walk too far in the dark. "Downtown. Near the old bakery."
The man nodded, unlocking the back door. "Hop in."
Mrs. Cristin slid into the backseat, adjusting her bag on her lap. The engine growled, and the cab rolled away from the curb. At first, everything seemed normal. Streetlights blurred past, and the occasional honk echoed in the distance. But after a few minutes, she realized the road was unfamiliar.
Her brows furrowed. "Driver, this isn't the way."
The man didn't answer. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.
"I said, you're going the wrong way—" her voice rose, sharper now.
Suddenly, the locks clicked down. Thick metal sounds.
Her stomach dropped. "What is this? Stop this cab right now!"
The driver chuckled, low and cold. "Orders are orders, lady. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."
Fear crept into her chest, and she banged her palm against the window. Let me out!"
But the cab only sped faster, turning down a narrow street with no lights. The last thing she saw before the night swallowed the car whole was a pair of headlights behind them—another black SUV following close, like a shadow ensuring she had no escape.
Realization dawned on Mrs Cristin. She's been abducted.