Chapter 14: Escape

The suppressants taste like chalk and regret.

I swallow them dry because my hands are shaking too badly to hold the water glass Bael offers. The pills scrape down my throat and I cough, doubling over.

"Easy." His hand is on my back, steadying me. "Just breathe."

I’m trying, the heat is still simmering beneath my skin, quieter now but not gone. My legs won’t hold me. Everything aches.

"Can you stand?"

I nod, even though it’s a lie.

He doesn’t believe me. His arm wraps around my waist, supporting most of my weight as he guides me toward the closet.

"Your clothes are ruined." He pulls out a shirt, dark gray, expensive. "Wear mine."

I stare at the fabric. "They’ll be too big."

"I don’t care, put them on."

I do, because I don’t have another option. The shirt hangs off my shoulders, the sleeves past my hands. He finds pants that are only slightly less ridiculous, rolls the cuffs so I won’t trip.

When he’s finished, I look like a child playing dress-up in his father’s closet.

"Good enough." He’s already moving, checking his watch. "The driver is waiting at the side entrance, Feifei and your mother left forty minutes ago. They could be back any time."

My stomach drops. "What if they’re already..."

"They’re not. I had someone tracking their location." At my look, he adds, "Security measure. Don’t ask."

Right. Because normal people have security teams tracking their fiance’s shopping trips.

He guides me down the hallway, supporting my weight, and I’m grateful because my legs are still trembling. The heat suppressants are working, I can feel them dampening the fever, but they make me dizzy and nauseous.

We pass the guest room and I catch a glimpse inside. The windows are open, curtains billowing, the bed is stripped bare, there’s a candle burning on the dresser, something floral and cloying that’s clearly meant to mask the smell of what we did.

"You..."

"Yes." His voice is clipped. "I handled it. Mrs. Wen thinks I was working in there and spilled coffee."

Of course he has a cover story.

We take the service stairs down, through parts of the house I’ve never seen. Bare hallways, efficient and cold. Staff quarters, probably, no one is around.

The side door opens to a small courtyard where a black sedan is waiting, engine running.

The driver gets out immediately, opening the back door.

"Mr. Li." He’s professional, doesn’t react to my wrecked appearance or the fact that I’m wearing clothes three sizes too big. "Sir."

Bael helps me into the back seat. I collapse against the leather, boneless.

"Take him home." Bael’s voice is low. "Directly. No stops."

"Yes, sir."

Bael leans in, his hand briefly touching my face. "The suppressants will make you tired. Sleep if you can."

I nod, not trusting my voice.

He steps back and closes the door.

The car pulls away smoothly, and I watch through the rear window as Bael disappears back into the house.

I look up at the driver. "How long until we’re off the estate?"

"Two minutes, sir. The main drive is just ahead."

Two minutes.

The car moves through the grounds, past manicured gardens and ornamental trees. The driveway stretches ahead, long and winding.

I slump lower in the seat, suddenly desperate to be invisible.

We round the final curve and the gate comes into view.

And then I see it.

Another car coming up the driveway toward us.

Silver.

My heart stops.

Feifei’s car.

No.

No no no.

"Sir..." The driver slows slightly.

The driveway is narrow here, lined with trees on both sides, there’s barely room for two cars to pass.

Feifei’s car slows too.

We’re going to have to go around each other.

My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.

The driver eases to the right, giving them room. The other car mirrors the movement.

We’re ten feet apart.

Five.

I turn my face toward the window, away from them, hunching down in the seat.

The cars pass.

Right next to each other.

So close I could reach out and touch their door handle.

I hold my breath, not moving, not looking.

And then we’re past.

I risk a glance through the rear window.

Feifei’s car continues up the drive toward the house, taillights disappearing around the curve.

She didn’t see me.

Or if she did, she didn’t recognize the car.

The driver continues smoothly toward the gate, unaware of how close that was.

I sink back into the seat, shaking.

Thirty seconds.

If we’d been thirty seconds slower, we would have still been at the house when they arrived.

If I’d taken longer to dress, if Bael had hesitated, if the suppressants had taken longer to arrive...

They would have found me.

Found us.

The gate opens automatically and we pull out onto the main road.

Only then do I let myself breathe.

The drive to the Li residence takes fifteen minutes. I spend it staring out the window, watching the city blur past, my mind blank and numb.

The suppressants are working. The heat is fading, retreating to a dull simmer. But they make everything else worse, the nausea, the dizziness, the bone-deep exhaustion.

I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.

When we pull up to the house, the driver opens my door and helps me out.

"Do you need assistance inside, sir?"

"No." My voice sounds wrecked even to my own ears. "I’m fine."

Another lie.

He waits until I’m steady on my feet before getting back in the car.

I watch him drive away, then turn toward the house.

The front door is unlocked. I slip inside, grateful that Father is at work and the house is empty.

I make it to my room and close the door behind me.

Only then do I let myself collapse.

I fall onto the bed still wearing Bael’s clothes, still smelling like him, like us, like what we did.

My phone buzzes.

Feifei: *Just got back to the estate. Bael said you went home sick? Are you okay?*

I stare at the message.

Guilt twists in my stomach like a knife.

Me: *Yeah, I just felt dizzy. Probably something I ate, I’m resting now.*

Feifei: *Poor thing. Get some sleep! I’ll call you tomorrow.*

I drop the phone on the bed and press my face into the pillow.

She has no idea.

No idea that her brother and her fiance just...

I can’t even finish the thought.

The suppressants are doing their job, dampening the fever, quieting the need.

But I can still feel him, the ache between my legs, the marks on my hips. The phantom sensation of being knotted, filled, claimed.

I’m still wearing his shirt.

I should take it off, shower, and scrub away every trace of what happened.

But I don’t move.

I just lie there, breathing in the scent of cedar and something darker, and hate myself for not wanting to wash it away.

My phone buzzes one more time.

I almost don’t look.

But I do.

Unknown Number: *Take the second dose in 48 hours. Check your pocket.*

Bael.

Of course.

Efficient even in the aftermath.

I fumble at the oversized pants I’m wearing, Bael’s pants.

In the pocket, there’s a small bottle.

Six more pills.

He must have slipped them in while helping me dress.

I don’t respond to his text.

Just set the phone aside and close my eyes.

The fever is subsiding.

But the guilt?

That’s just beginning.