CHAPTER 99: MEMORIES

Somewhere inside the gallery. "Exquisite, isn’t it?" A voice said suddenly, making Zara flinch.

Assuming it was Silas, she began, "I told you not to..." but stopped cold when her eyes landed on the intruder. Definitely not Silas. Narrowing her gaze, she asked, "Sorry, who?" While discreetly sizing him from head to toe. He was handsome...her type of man, she had to admit.

"Ah, forgive me for startling you. I am Mark, Mark Willow, a partner at Paul’s company. I hope I am not disturbing you." He smiled broadly as he introduced himself, the kind of smile that hooked attention. From that look alone, Zara could tell he was a playboy. And playboys, she knew, were dangerous but delicious. Her type exactly. If only Silas had been a bit more like that.

"No, you are not. In fact, you came at the perfect time," she replied, flashing him a smile of her own.

"And your name?" He asked, prompting her to realize she hadn’t introduced herself.

With a quick breath, she said, "I am Zara, with a surname not worth mentioning. I am not from here. I only came to attend a friend’s friend’s wedding." She chuckled nervously at her awkward phrasing. A friend’s friend’s? Eve and Patricia weren’t exactly close enough to call each other friends. Sister-in-law, perhaps, but Eve hardly acknowledged her as family, given her strained ties with her brothers. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He was only going to be a one-night* stand, so there was no need to give him details.

"Nice to meet you, Zara. Are you here alone?" Mark asked.

"Not exactly, but right now, yes. Why? Do you have something in mind?" She countered, stepping closer, her tone suddenly coy.

"I don’t think we are imagining the same thing," he teased, his smile dazzling enough to catch her off guard. For a moment, she actually wondered if he really was a playboy. He reminded her far too much of someone else... Silas. Damn it, why was she still thinking about him? They were over.

"Ah, I see. Technical issues," she joked, waving a hand dismissively. He laughed, and she found herself laughing too. Maybe he wasn’t that bad.

"Are you a photographer? I noticed you have been taking pictures since you came in," he observed, making her arch a brow, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

"Have you been noticing me?" She asked, deliberately ignoring the actual question.

"I mean... It’s not exactly difficult. Dressed like this, you became the center of attention the moment you walked in. Though it seems you didn’t notice." He gestured toward her dress, or rather, what little there was of it. Could something that short even be considered a gown?

"Oh." Her gaze dropped to the dress. Of course. She had almost forgotten how scandalous her outfit was.

"I wish my sister had even half your confidence," Mark said suddenly, making Zara shift uncomfortably. She was never good with words, especially when it came to family matters. Honestly, if not for Patricia’s presence in her life, she might have ended up the most hated person on earth.

"Maybe she just needs time. Not everyone is the same, and that’s what makes people unique. When she’s ready, she will be, don’t pressure her," Zara advised after deciding on her response.

"You are right. Maybe I am being too hard on her," Mark admitted, surprising her so much her eyes widened.

That went well, she thought with a small flicker of pride.

"Would you like to take a walk? I know a place with a better view," he offered, his gaze dropping to the camera in her hands.

"I never turn down a good view," she answered smoothly, and he led the way.

Together, they climbed the stairs until they reached the rooftop.

"Wow!" Zara exclaimed, stepping close to the edge as her eyes drank in the city’s bright, colorful sprawl.

"I knew you would like it," Mark said with a pleased smile at her reaction.

"It’s beautiful. Definitely going into my collection," she murmured, already lifting her camera and snapping shot after shot, the streets below, the hotels, the tall buildings, and everything else her lens could frame.

Just then, Mark’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out, hesitated when he saw the caller ID, then turned to her. "I need to take an important call. Excuse me for a moment."

"Go ahead," Zara replied distractedly, not even sparing him a glance as she focused on her shots. He left, leaving her alone on the rooftop.

A few seconds later, footsteps approached. Without looking up, she said, "Back already? That was fast," and clicked another picture. But the footsteps stopped, and silence followed. Frowning, she turned around.

Her expression froze into disbelief, then annoyance. "What is this? Do we still have perverts like this?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes at the completely naked man standing before her.

Back in high school, streakers and naked idiots had been a ridiculous trend, but she never expected to see it resurface here. Still, how had he even gotten into the building? Was he one of the invited guests?

The man stepped closer. Then another step. And another. Her gaze sharpened, her stance shifting.

"Don’t come any closer. I am warning you," she snapped, planting a hand on her waist while raising the other in caution, though her voice carried more irritation than fear.

He didn’t stop.

The moment he reached her, she tossed her camera aside and seized his arm, fully intending to flip him over her shoulder. But the instant she tried, she realized just how heavy he was. She tried again, putting more force into it, yet he didn’t budge. A flicker of unease rushed through her. This wasn’t just some random pervert. She had met someone... formidable.

Before she could react, he overpowered her, flipping her hard onto the ground with a loud thud.

"I bet you have never met a strong pervert before," he sneered, stepping closer.

"You guys work out now?" Zara shot back, even in the face of danger. Her words only seemed to irritate him further. Groaning, she tried to crawl away, but the impact had left her too weak to rise.

He lunged, seizing a fistful of her hair and yanking cruelly to inflict pain.

Refusing to give in, she lashed out, grabbing his manhood and squeezing with all her strength. The pervert shrieked, retaliating by slamming her head against the wall.

"Ahh!" Zara cried out as her skull hit, her body trembling, her hands falling limp.

"I was only going to assault you," he spat, recovering, his tone now darker. "But I have changed my mind. I will ruin you so completely you will never forget me." His laughter was jagged, grotesque, his tongue darting out in vile mimicry.

Zara’s gaze flicked to the rooftop entrance. Could she bolt? Could she make it? Her eyes measured the distance, but with her injured leg, escape felt impossible.

"Don’t even think about running. There’s nowhere to go. You are mine!" He barked, his laugh echoing louder, more unhinged, until it unlocked memories she had buried deep.

’You can never escape me. Once your mother divorces me, I will make you mine. If you tell anyone, I will lock you up and rape you every day. But if you behave, I will rape you just twice in a week."

Her breath came in ragged gasps. The echoes of the past swallowed her, and she curled in on herself, clutching her ears as if to shut it all out. She could still hear his voice, the greediness and lust in his tone whenever he wanted to have his way with her.

She had thought finally leaving home will make her forget it all, who knew all she needed was a wake from a rapist? Would she ever be free from her past? No matter how much she tried to run, it came hunting her back. How pathetic she was, to think she could ever start fresh and have a new life? She was such a fool!

"No..." she whispered, her voice shaking.

"I have only just begun. Don’t be afraid yet," he mocked before pouncing, forcing her down, trying to flatten her against the rooftop floor.

"No! Let me go!" She screamed, struggling fiercely, but all she could see was his face...the face of the man who had destroyed her life, the one she despised most in the world.

"Be a good girl and it will be over faster," he hissed, finally pinning her wrists above her head.

Zara’s body suddenly went still, her gaze hollow, her spirit retreating as his hand crept toward her dress. He grinned, licking his lips. "Just the color I like," he murmured, fingers hooking the edge of her undergarments.

But before he could move further, the rooftop door burst open with a violent crash.

The pervert froze, springing back in shock, eyes widening as he turned to face the intruder.

"How dare you?!!!"