Chapter 1: The Rain-Soaked Ride, Abigail

Abigail should have taken the ride.

The thought sliced through her mind as she huddled beneath the flickering streetlamp, the icy rain a relentless assault, each drop needling into her soaked skin. Her blouse clung like a second, clammy skin, tracing the soft curves of her chest and the outline of her white bra. She crossed her arms, feeling the sharp prickle of her nipples against the wet fabric, the chill seeping into her bones, her teeth clattering as she shivered. The cold had numbed her fingers, and her phone slipped in her grasp, the screen flickering as raindrops splintered into tiny halos.

No cars available.

The Uber app’s pale, taunting glow cut through the darkness, casting her anxious reflection back at her. Of course. It was late. Sunday. The kind of night where even the streetlights seemed to hold their breath. She felt like an idiot.

“Stupid, Abigail. Really stupid,” she muttered, her breath misting in the wet air. She had just finished a culinary event, a star-studded affair where the city’s glitterati tasted foie gras and sea urchin foam, all while she snapped photos and scribbled tasting notes like a dutiful little blogger. She had been offered a ride, but no, she had insisted she could walk. ‘It’s good for me,’ she’d thought, already feeling the snug pinch of her Spanx under designer jeans. The pair she could barely afford even after a discount, and ones she couldn’t afford to outgrow. Abigail considered herself ‘in shape’, at least that’s what the sizing of her clothing told her. Inwardly, she knew she had been slacking as of late. Spending too much time sitting and ignoring the workout regimen she usually held herself to. Still, when her schedule let up, she’d be able to shed the ten-ish pounds that had crept up on her frame over the last month. She could practically feel the seams straining now, the soaked fabric plastered to her skin like a second, uncomfortable layer.

Her reflection in shop windows had been a growing concern lately. Too much time hunched over a laptop uploading blog articles and editing photos, too many late-night baking experiments, too much… comfort. She shifted her weight, feeling her thighs brush together. God, had she really put on that much weight? She bit her lower lip, cursing her recent indulgences. She’d have to face the scale soon, and that thought twisted in her stomach, adding a bitter edge to the already frigid air.

The wind howled down the empty street, pressing her blouse tighter against her chilled skin, the soaked fabric revealing more than she’d like. ‘God, the temperature wasn’t supposed to drop like this—I should have brought a coat.’ She bemoaned.

She glanced at her phone again, wiping the screen with a trembling thumb. Jessica, her best friend and fellow food blogger attendee, hadn’t picked up earlier. Straight to voicemail. That wasn’t like her. Texts to other friends yielded little better.


Julia: Babe! So sorry, I’m wasted right now. Not safe to drive. Try Uber?

‘Loser.’

Cynthia: I’m out of town, have you tried calling a cab?

‘No, I hadn’t thought of that, dolt.’

Stacey: Jeez, that sucks.

‘What, no offer of sympathy from you!? Friends are the worst!’

The street remained empty, the echo of distant thunder rolling through the narrow alleyways like the growl of a restless beast. The only other sound was the steady patter of rain against the cracked pavement and her ragged, uneven breaths. Her heart pounded, a frantic, arrhythmic drumbeat in her chest. She was late. So late. Dad’s birthday cake was still at the bakery. Mom was probably pacing, wringing her hands, wondering where she was.

She squeezed her eyes shut, cursing herself. Why hadn’t she just accepted the ride? Why had she let her pride get in the way? She could almost see her father’s disappointed face, his raised eyebrows, his forced smile when she finally arrived, late and dripping wet, ruining the evening for everyone.

Then, like a breath held too long, the darkness parted.

A sleek, black car glided through the mist, its engine a low, satisfied purr, headlights cutting through the sheets of rain with predatory precision. It rolled up beside her, tires hissing against the wet pavement. For a moment, she was frozen, her soaked sneakers rooted to the spot as the window whirred down, smooth as a sigh.

The interior light flicked on, illuminating the driver’s face—sharp jawline, high cheekbones, hair as dark as the rain-slicked street outside. His eyes, impossibly blue, met hers, cutting through the watery gloom. He studied her for a heartbeat, his lips curving into a slow, calculating smile, like a cat finding an unwary mouse.

“Need a ride?” he said.

The words hit her like a shock of ice water, snapping her back to the present. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, her fingers clenching around her phone. She glanced back at the empty street, the distant shadows stretching hungrily toward her. She should say no. She should thank him and politely decline, call Jessica again, or just… run.

But her body betrayed her, muscles stiff and cold, her mind foggy from the chill. She took a step toward the car, the puddles splashing around her feet, her sneakers squelching miserably. His eyes tracked her every movement, that slow smile never faltering, a silent dare in his gaze.

She leaned down, the rain streaking her face, dripping from her chin. She felt absurdly exposed, her blouse plastered to her skin, her damp hair clinging to her cheeks, the cold seeping into her bones, but his gaze held her, a silent command that made her stomach twist in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Yeah… yeah, I really do.”

His smile widened, just a fraction, and the door unlocked with a soft, mechanical click. She hesitated, her breath clouding in the frigid air, then pulled the handle. The door swung open, releasing a wave of warm, leather-scented air, thick and comforting, like a cocoon against the biting storm outside. She slid inside, her damp thighs pressing against the smooth, cool leather, the chill of her soaked clothes leeching warmth from the seat.

The door shut behind her with a solid, final thunk, sealing her in. For a moment, the world outside seemed impossibly far away, the roar of the rain reduced to a muffled whisper, the faint sound of the car’s engine purring beneath them. For some reason, the vibration stirred something low in her stomach, a slow, curling warmth that she tried to ignore.

She glanced sideways, pulse racing. He was still watching her, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gearshift, long, elegant fingers tapping lightly against the polished metal. His head tilted slightly, those sharp blue eyes catching the faint light from the dashboard, cutting through the dimness like twin shards of ice.

“Not to worry, the seat’s vented.” He reached out and tapped a button. In a moment, a rush of warmth bathed her back, her thighs, her ass. “Rough night to be caught in a storm.” He said.

She tried to breathe, tried to ignore the faint, coppery scent that clung to the air, sharp and unsettling, like the memory of a cut long since healed. But she could feel his eyes on her, even as the car slipped deeper into the darkness, each mile taking her further from the safety of that rain-soaked curb, and closer to something she couldn’t yet name.

She couldn’t name it yet because… she hadn’t even told him where she needed to go.

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