“Hey, Marcus?” I call out, tapping on the partition. “You missed the turn.”
No response. Maybe he can’t hear me over the sound system. I try to lower the partition, but it won’t budge. Weird.
“Marcus?” I call louder, knocking on the glass. Nothing.
I look out the window and realize we’re heading away from campus entirely, toward the highway.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, pressing the intercom button. “Marcus, you’re going the wrong way. The arena’s back on campus.”
The silence that follows sends a chill down my spine.
“This isn’t funny,” I snap, banging on the partition harder now. “Turn this car around!”
We’re definitely on the highway now, picking up speed as we merge into traffic. My heart starts racing, panic building in my chest. This isn’t right. Where the hell is he taking me?
Five minutes pass. Then ten. We’re heading north, away from the city.
I grab my phone, fingers shaking as I pull up Lucien’s contact. I type furiously.
Marcus is taking me somewhere besides the game. What the fuck is going on?
The message delivers, but there’s no response. Of course not. Lucien never takes his phone on the court. He’s probably warming up right now, completely unaware that I’m being kidnapped by his own fucking driver.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, running through my options. I could call 911, but what would I say? ‘Help, my not-boyfriend’s driver is taking me to a mansion against my will’? They’d laugh in my face.
I try the doors again, yanking on the handles hard enough that my shoulder aches. Nothing gives.
“Marcus, I swear to god, if you don’t turn this car around right now, I will make your life a living hell!” I shout, kicking the partition with my Louboutin. The glass doesn’t even vibrate.
I’m starting to feel sick. My hands are clammy, and my breath is coming in short gasps. This can’t be happening.
I scroll through my contacts frantically. Who would I even text? Cassian and Asher would be the best choices but both of them are on the court also.
Fuck. Valentina.
I pull up Valentina’s contact and hit call, holding my breath as it rings. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Come on, pick up, pick the fuck up,” I mutter, watching the miles tick by outside my window. We’re getting further from campus with every second.
Voicemail. Fuck.
“Valentina, it’s Seraphina. Something’s wrong. Marcus is taking me somewhere that isn’t the game. I’m trapped in the car and I can’t get out. Please find Lucien and tell him what’s happening.”
I hang up and immediately start typing a text, my fingers slipping on the screen.
EMERGENCY. Marcus is kidnapping me. Not going to game. Taking me north on highway. Please get to Lucien and tell him. He needs to track my phone. This is NOT a joke.
I hit send and watch the message deliver, then follow up with my location pin. My heart’s pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
“MARCUS!” I scream again, slamming my fist against the partition.
The car is slowing down now, turning off the highway onto what feels like a gravel road. My heart’s pounding so hard I can barely breathe. I try the door handles one more time, yanking with all my strength, but they won’t budge.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, looking around frantically for something—anything—I could use as a weapon. There’s nothing. The back of this car is immaculate, not even a stray pen or loose change.
We’re definitely on private property now. Through the tinted windows, I can see trees lining both sides of the road, dense enough that no one would hear me scream. The thought makes my stomach lurch.
I grip my phone tighter, praying Valentina got my messages. Would Lucien even notice I wasn’t at the game? Would anyone realize I was missing before it was too late?
