Amara Cross POV

"Don't overthink it, Amara. It's just a normal car," I told myself, trying to push away the unease. But my steps started to quicken, then turned into something close to running.

I wrapped my scarf tightly around my neck until it almost covered my nose and kept walking steadily... until a strange feeling crept over me. The sound of a car engine behind me. It was quiet, moving slowly, matching my pace exactly.

The car didn't fall back. It got closer. A kidnapper? A lunatic stalking me? I swallowed hard and broke into a real run, but a violent coughing fit hit my chest and stopped me cold.

A sharp pain stabbed my side, forcing me to stop as I pressed my hand against it, gasping for breath. At that moment, I felt a warm hand touch my shoulder from behind.

I screamed with everything I had. I spun around and swung my bag at him, then started hitting his chest and shoulders with my frozen hands, shouting in panic, "Stay away from me, you kidnapper! Do you think I'm scared? You don't scare me!"

My eyes were squeezed shut, my voice breaking from fear. Suddenly, he caught both my wrists firmly. His broad chest blocked all my movement, his breath dangerously close to my face.

"You crazy girl... calm down."

I opened my eyes wide. Shock froze my tongue. "Oh my God... Mr. Dorian, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it. I thought you were..."

He raised an eyebrow slightly, his tone amused. "You're insane."

Without another word, he slipped his arm behind my back with a firm gentleness and opened the car door that had stopped right behind me.

"Get in."

He said it calmly. I hesitated for a second, about to protest, but his sharp look cut me off before I could speak.

I got in quietly and sat down, watching him walk around the car and take the driver's seat. His eyes never left mine.

I turned my face away, guilt heavy in my voice. "I'm sorry for hitting you... I didn't mean to. I just thought you were a kidnapper."

"It's not your fault... I scared you too," he said simply, a faint smile touching his lips, making me shift in my seat and place my bag on my lap nervously, waiting for the car to move.

But his voice came suddenly, low and teasing. "Do you always forget to wear your seatbelt, or do you do it on purpose so I can put it on for you?"

My brows furrowed in surprise, and before I could respond, he leaned closer, his body invading my space, his strong scent filling my lungs. He reached beside me and pulled the belt gently, fastening it with calm ease. My cheeks burned.

"No, no, don't take it that way. I just... forgot, that's all."

He hummed softly, unreadable. I couldn't tell if he believed me or was just pretending to.

"But... how did you recognize me from that far away in the snow?" I asked hesitantly.

"I was heading to the restaurant and saw a short girl in an oversized coat walking like the coat was moving on its own... not hard to recognize you."

My eyes widened at his blunt teasing, and I crossed my arms. "I'm not that short!"

He finally looked at me, one brow raised in challenge. "How tall are you?"

I leaned back confidently. "Asking a woman about her height or weight is rude. We consider those things very private."

We finally arrived at the restaurant after a few minutes of silence. I looked at him and asked, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

He gave a short hum of approval.

"How old are you?"

He set his fork aside and answered calmly. "I just turned forty."

"Wow! I thought you were in your mid thirties. You look really young!"

He watched my reaction with cool indifference and went back to eating.

"How though? Do you use creams? Face masks? Or... do you sleep in a fridge?"

"Genes," he replied simply.

I raised my brows, impressed. "Oh, then lend me some of those genes. Just a little..."

He shot me a sly look and cut me off with a smirk. "If I gave you any, you'd disappear, little one. You're barely visible on the road already, and you want more?"

Time passed quickly, and as we returned to the car, the snow started falling again. I rubbed my hands together, searching for warmth despite the heater. My temperature was rising, a cold shiver spreading through my limbs. My head throbbed painfully, and the tremor in my hands became obvious, but Dorian was focused on the road.

I grabbed my bag weakly and took out the medicine the doctor had given me. I swallowed two pills and drank some water. I just wanted the pain to stop.

His voice came softly. "Are you okay?"

I turned to him slowly and nodded, lying, while my face told the truth. He went back to watching the road but kept glancing at me from time to time.

I looked ahead again, but my head couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to sleep, but I shouldn't... I shouldn't...

"What number is your house?"

His voice was the last thread holding me to reality before my heavy eyelids dropped and I fell into deep sleep.

All I felt was heaviness pressing on my eyelids. I tried to open my eyes, but they refused, as if sleep was pulling my soul down.

I shifted on the bed and opened my eyes slightly. My brows furrowed in confusion. These weren't Asla's modest walls. I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes.

My mind started to clear. My eyes widened in panic as I threw the blanket off my body.

"I'm still wearing my clothes!"

I pushed the blanket away completely and tried to stand, only to find my winter shoes placed neatly beside the bed. That kind of order was not like me at all.

"Was I... kidnapped?"

I moved toward the door, my trembling hand gripping the cold handle carefully, afraid it might creak and expose me. No guards. No whispers. Nothing but silence. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, breathing deeply, trying to calm my racing heart.

"If you're kidnapped, Amara, you need to escape now."

I stepped into the long hallway, walking on my toes until I found myself in a stunning place.

"Wow... this might be the kitchen my grandma used to dream of... it's amazing!"

I walked toward the double door fridge. The moment I pressed it, it opened smoothly with impressive technology.

"Technology," I whispered in awe, but my amazement doubled when I saw what was inside. It was filled from top to bottom with delicious food. I sat on the floor, staring at a large plate overflowing with bright red strawberries and green grapes, my eyes lighting up.

I reached out, but my pride stopped me. "Isn't it shameful to eat from a kidnapper's fridge?"

I turned to leave, but my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl.

"I know, dear... I want the strawberries too, but..."

I didn't resist for long. My hand slipped into the fridge. I picked the biggest strawberry. It was cold, its scent filling my nose.

"I'll give in... just for the beauty of this fruit."

I bit into it and closed my eyes, savoring the sweetness melting on my tongue. I grabbed another, then another, with childish greed.

I quickly washed my hands, but suddenly... footsteps echoed closer. I froze. I looked around wildly for a weapon until I spotted a heavy pan in the drawer. I grabbed it with both hands.

I hid behind the wall, watching the shadow approach. The moment the person appeared, I raised the pan and swung it at his head with all my strength... but he dodged it smoothly, making me stumble. In a blink, a strong arm wrapped around my waist, pinning my wrists behind my back with practiced ease, the pan flying away.

"Stay away from me, you disgusting bastard!" I shouted, biting my lip in anger, struggling hard in his arms. My back was pressed against his broad chest, his warm breath brushing my neck.

"Be quiet, Amara... you'll cause a disaster if you keep struggling, and you won't like the consequences."

I froze. That deep, rough voice...

"Mr. Dorian!"

I suddenly felt something hard press against my lower back, making my body tense in shock, every nerve on edge.

"You want to hit your kidnapper with a pan?"

His whisper near my ear felt like a drug that stole my strength. When his grip loosened, I turned quickly and pushed him toward the wall, but he didn't move. He simply matched my steps with calm ease.

"Mr. Dorian?! What are you doing here?!"

He looked at me with confusion and a hint of amusement, then grabbed my wrist when I tried to reach for the pan again.

"Amara, what are you saying? What kidnapper can walk freely in his own house? This is my house."

The fear vanished, replaced by shock that froze my thoughts. "Your house?... Then what am I doing in your house?!"

"Do you really not remember? You were exhausted yesterday. When we reached your neighborhood, I asked for your address, but you... passed out suddenly."

I covered my mouth, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. What a disaster. Why did I sleep like the dead?

"Didn't you try to wake me?" I asked, watching his face nervously.

He raised an eyebrow with a sly look. "I did. But... do you know what you did?"

My palms grew sweaty, tension eating at me. "What did I do? I didn't do anything. I'm sure of it."

He stepped closer and placed his hand on my head, messing with my hair in a teasing way before pulling back.

"It's better if I don't say."

I crossed my arms, annoyed. "See? I told you, I didn't do anything!"

He ignored me completely and poured himself a glass of cold water. When he turned back, I froze in place. He was shirtless.

His broad chest was fully exposed, sculpted muscles defined, tattoos tracing his arm. I couldn't look away from his body that defied his age.

"Do you like it?"

"What?" I stammered, my body stepping back as he suddenly moved closer.

"I... I mean the strawberries. Yes, the strawberries were really good..."

My words stumbled, the air between us heating in a way that had nothing to do with the weather. I leaned back against the cold counter behind me, but my body was clearly trembling.

"Mr. Dorian, what's wrong?"

He ignored my question, his eyes locked onto mine in a way that made my breathing uneven. Suddenly, I gasped when I felt his hands grip my thighs and lift me effortlessly onto the counter.

His hands were cold despite my clothes, but the heat of his touch burned through the fabric. He didn't move them away, and neither did I. His closeness stirred something inside me, something both thrilling and terrifying.

His gaze moved over my face before settling on my lips, and my cheeks flushed deeper. No man had ever cornered me like this before.