❝Good girl. You actually listened.❞ he smirks, displaying a slightly surprised expression.
❝Why wouldn't I? This is fun.❞ I state amused, making him freeze on the spot.
❝Fun? Did you seriously just say being kidnapped is.. fun? What the hell is wron...
Being constantly watched over by at least one try-hard bodyguard who was failing at subtly following me around and ensuring my safety led to a string of progressively bad situations. For starters, the lack of freedom I had frustrated me to the point where my suppressed desire for mischief was slowly but surely coming out.
It was initially supposed to be a 15 minute walk in the neighbourhood at night after a twice as long session of trying to climb over the huge ass fence around my house. After a few weeks of constanly sneaking out, I added a few friends, some drinks and clubs to the equation and it became my little getaway. The thrill of possibly getting caught but also the fact that I was such a good liar that I'd have probaly come up with a plausible excuse made me want to test the boundaries of my self-created freedom.
Ironically enough, my desire for liberation was what led me to captivity.
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'Are you Y/N?' a strong hand grabs my wrist in a contrastingly delicate manner.
As I turn around, I'm met with an unfamiliar face, an expectant gaze boring into my eyes. I quickly take in the man's appearance - rather expensive looking suit, standing slightly taller than me but around my age, maybe a few years older. His ruffled black hair is the only aspect that doesn't seem to fit in with his clean image.
'Umm, yeah. Who are you though?' I ask still analyzing him. My gaze follows his slender arms and lands on a detail that made my heart rate increase by the second.
His cufflinks. The unmistakable initial of my last name embellished in silver over the onyx button tells me I'm royally screwed. So he's one of my dad's new goons. That's a pity, he looked surprisingly attractive.
'Your dad found out about your little nightly escapades and he requests your presence home. Follow me.'he states in an almost bored manner as he turns towards the exit of the club.
A defeated sigh escapes me as I start to follow suit, while texting the friends I was with that fun was over for me.
As we get to his car which was parked behind the club for some reason, he opens the passenger door for me. Next thing I know, a small, wet cloth covers my mouth and nose. Chloroform. I quickly realized by my increased drowsiness. It doesn't knock me out immediately but my attempts to kick left and right prove to be worthless. What does knock me out is a hand clasping in my hair and hitting my head against the cardoor roughly.
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