29

Suzanne didn't show up for work for days; that night had been a nightmare, and she hadn't been able to stop crying since she left.

Her father looked at her dimly and noticed she hadn't gone to work. He asked her, and she simply said she had a few days off to rest.

"Whatever happens, you can tell me, sweetheart," the older man said, gently taking her hand.

Suzanne held back her tears and just nodded.

She had to think about what she would do and how she would face Nathan again, which was the last thing she wanted to do. He had called her countless times, but she hadn't answered any of them.

He was going crazy and was even planning to call the police or a private detective to find her when she didn't show up for work the next day.

She didn't respond to his calls or messages; he was going crazy.

"I don't think anything bad happened to her; it's impossible; she must just be upset," he told himself to quiet his conscience.

He had needed all his willpower not to go out looking for her like a madman all over the city, then two days later he called Dylan and he innocently told him that Suzanne was at her father's house taking care of him.

Nathan could breathe a little easier with that information, although not entirely until he resolved that altercation.

Suzanne finally made her way to work, although she had to wear more makeup than usual to hide the dark circles from the sleepless night.

The lump in her throat became more unbearable, and the pain in her chest became more powerful as she walked down the hallway. She didn't even know what she would say or do.

Nathan was focused on reading some documents when he heard the door open.

For a moment, he thought it was Suzanne, but when he looked up, he saw it was Pamela, a brunette with whom he had a fling one night, and since then, the girl had been obsessed with him.

He knew it was easy to locate him since his company was well known, but what puzzled him was that the security team let her into his office, and even more so without notifying him.

"What are you doing here?" he growled, with a neutral expression.

"I just wanted to know how you've been," the brunette said, taking a step towards him.

"Drop the cynicism," he retorted sharply. "What do you want?"

"You," she said flirtatiously.

"In what way do I have to tell you that I'm not interested?"

"That's what you say now, but soon I'll hear you moan my name," she said with a lascivious look.

"I hope you leave; I'm not in the mood," he said annoyed.

He knew Suzanne had to show up at some point; he didn't want her to find Pamela there.

Although he was a little annoyed with her, he felt guilty for treating her that way. He knew he had hurt and offended her with his actions and words; she was a very sensitive creature, and he had overreacted.

He couldn't stand being like that with her, so he planned to look for her that same day until he found her and took her home to end their conflict.

He knew he had lied to her; she said she was checking the time on her phone, having a watch on her right wrist. Besides, he had noticed how nervous she got when he caught her, but he told himself that was water under the bridge.

"Well, handsome, I see you've become a bit pensive," the brunette said.

"Are you still here?" he said, disgusted.

"I'm not going anywhere," the girl declared and took off the red trench coat she was wearing, standing completely naked in front of him.

"Cover yourself and get out of here before I call security," he said coldly.

"Not until you make me yours, darling," she said, sitting on his lap as the door opened.

"Damn it!" he exclaimed when he saw Suzanne there, looking so pale with the paper.

Before he could say anything, she ran out.

Nathan stood up abruptly from his chair, causing Pamela to fall to the floor, and he rushed out of there, but in the end, he couldn't catch Suzanne; she had vanished.

A few blocks away, she stopped to catch her breath; the cold wind made her shiver, and tears still streamed down her cheeks.

The taxi dropped her off in front of the club where she and Dylan used to go, and she went straight to the bar.

"Hey, Suzie! Where's Dylan?" greeted Kevin, the bartender.

"Hi, Kevin, today it's just me," she replied.

"So, sticking with your usual drink?" he asked.

"No, I want something stronger," she said, her voice dull.

"Someone here is nursing a broken heart," the bartender commented, raising an eyebrow.

"Just serve me something strong," she sighed.

She took a sip of the drink he served her, feeling a strange taste and how her throat burned.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Whiskey, so take it easy," he warned.

"To hell with taking it easy, I want a bottle of this," she said firmly, knowing it might be a mistake.

"I won't do that; you can't handle your liquor," Kevin said.

"Then I'll go somewhere else," she said, getting up, but he stopped her.

"You're stubborn, Suzanne."

"My bottle," she demanded impatiently.

He walked away and then returned with the bottle, hesitantly handing it to her, grimacing at her deteriorated appearance.

"Please, take it slowly," he said.

"Yes, I'll keep that in mind," she replied.

He walked away to attend to other customers.

Before long, Suzanne found herself in a state where she couldn't stop smiling; it was evident that the alcohol was taking effect on her system.

She felt the urge to go to the bathroom, and as she stood up from her seat, everything around her spun, and she had to hold onto the chair she was sitting on to avoid falling.

"Let me help you," someone said.

She tilted her head to see who it was and saw a sturdy guy holding her by the waist.

"Let go of me, stay away from me," she slurred.

"Relax, doll, I won't hurt you, I just want to help. You're very drunk, and there are many opportunists around here. Where were you going?" the stranger said.

"To the bathroom."

"Let me guide you."

She accepted, without stopping to think about what that might imply.

A few seconds later, she looked around and realized that wasn't the way to the bathroom.

"Let go of me!" she protested.

"Relax... everything will be fine."

"No, let me go," she pleaded, but it didn't happen.

"Sweetness, we're almost there," the stranger said, tightening his grip.

Before she knew it, she was already outside the club. He was leading her towards the parking lot.

He put her in the backseat of a car and locked the door; she tried to get out, but it was impossible. The alcohol worked quickly in her system, and she felt increasingly dizzy and weak.

"Now you and I will have a good time," he said, his voice husky and lascivious.