Page 14

ALLURE

I couldn’t believe it.

He said he’d help me. Just like that. No hesitation. No questions.

Riot King—a man I barely knew, a man I should probably be afraid of—looked me dead in my face and said, “I got you.” And I believed him. That scared me more than anything.

Why would he risk it all for me?

He didn’t owe me shit. He didn’t even knew me. But the look in his eyes when I told him about Boaz... that wasn’t pity. That was rage. That was a man who’d seen darkness up close and didn’t flinch.

And I liked it.

I liked the weight of him—his presence, his stature.

The bold confidence that wrapped around him like armor.

The way his tattoos curved over dark muscle, like his skin was telling its own story.

The way that grill flashed when he talked—cocky and smooth.

And that voice? Deep. Commanding. The kind of voice you obey without thinking.

I hated that he called me “The Virgin.” But I couldn’t lie—I liked how he said it. I liked how he pulled me back when I tried to walk away, how he didn’t let me run from him like I did everyone else. It made me feel seen in a way that was dangerous.

This was my chance.

My one shot to escape and never look back. I felt it in my bones. Like freedom was reaching for me. Like I could finally stop being someone else’s property.

But just when I thought the stars were finally aligning, she came stumbling out of nowhere.

“Allure!”

I froze.

There was Irina right behind me. Her heels clicked awkwardly against the tile, her curls frizzed from dancing, and her mascara was smudged in a way only a good time could cause. Her smile was crooked with too much tequila.

I tried to act natural, like I wasn’t seconds away from running. “Hey.”

She narrowed her eyes at me and stepped closer, eyes unsteady but focused. For a second, I thought maybe she knew. Maybe she figured it out. Maybe she saw Riot talking to me and?—

“What do you think?” she asked seriously.

I blinked. “Think of what?”

She grabbed my arm and leaned in like she was about to spill government secrets. “Of Rollo, girl. He’s so cute, right?”

I exhaled—relieved, annoyed, all of it. “Yeah,” I muttered. “He’s cute.”

She squealed and twirled once, then nearly tripped over her own feet. “I knew you’d say that. I like him. Like, I really like him. But I need your opinion, ‘cause you always tell me the truth. Daddy’s gonna be so mad.”

I forced a smile. “Let’s talk after I pee, alright?”

She pointed at me, swaying slightly. “We better.”

I laughed, even though my insides were shaking. “Okay, girly.”

She disappeared back into the noise, and I was left standing there, stunned.

Irina was sweet, but clueless. She didn’t get it. She never would. She lived in a world where daddy issues were solved with AMEX Black cards and therapy she didn’t even need. Me? I was still fighting to be recognized as a human being.

She had freedom in her back pocket.

I was just trying to taste it for the first time.

I hated that she talked to me about her boyfriend like we were just old besties.

Right now, I could care less her. There was a part of me that felt bad that I was about to betray her.

She was going to get in trouble with her father but he’d eventually forgive her. He knows she’s an airhead.

I slipped into the bathroom, clicked the lock, and exhaled slowly. The music faded behind the door. The hum of the overhead light buzzed softly.

I stepped in front of the mirror.

The woman looking back at me... didn’t feel like me.

Not the girl who bathed other women for Boaz. Not the one who cleaned and cooked for him. Not the one who’d been named, shamed, and hidden.

No, this version of me had lashes that curled like wings. A red lip that dared you to try her. A black blazer dress that hugged every curve like it was designed in her honor. The hijab was gone. For the first time, I saw myself as a woman.

I looked good.

Like, really good.

Strong. Sexy. Alive.

I touched the mirror, fingertips meeting glass. “You’re almost out,” I whispered. “Just hold on a little longer.”

I thought of my parents. My real ones. I didn’t even know if they were still alive—but if they were? I was coming for them. I was gonna hug my mother and cry in her arms and tell her I’m sorry for every day I didn’t come home.

And my father?

I didn’t care how long it had been.

I was gonna make sure he never lost me again.

A knock at the door snapped me out of my reflection.

“Allure,” a deep voice said on the other side. Riot.

My heart jumped to my throat.

“It’s me,” he said again, lower this time. “Come on, baby. We gotta move.”

I looked one last time at the woman in the mirror, inhaled like it was my first breath of freedom, and unlocked the door.

Riot was standing there, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in black from head to toe.

He didn’t smile—he didn’t need to. His eyes scanned me, lingering on my lips, my legs, my curves.

The way he looked at me made my chest heat up, but he didn’t say a word.

He just reached for my hand, curled those rough fingers around mine, and tugged me forward.

Irina was nowhere in sight—probably back on the dance floor, tangled around Rollo like a vine around a fence post.

Good.

We slipped through a side hallway and exited out the back of the club. A valet stood out there, barely paying attention as Riot flashed him a nod. Seconds later, a sleek black sports car pulled up—low, wide, and loud, like it was purring just for him.

My eyes widened.

“You drive that?” I asked.

Riot smirked as he opened the passenger door for me. “Hop in.”

I slid inside, sinking into buttery leather and the soft sound of R&B pouring from the speakers. The scent of the interior was rich—leather and spice, mixed with whatever cologne he had on.

“Damn. This is nice.”

“You ever driven before?”

I scoffed. “Boaz didn’t exactly give me driving lessons.”

Riot grinned as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Figures. Maybe I can teach you.”

The city blurred behind us as we hit the highway. The skyline shrank in the rearview mirror. I looked over at him, one hand resting easy on the wheel, the other tapping his thigh to the rhythm of the music.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“To my house in Jersey, ” he stated.

“That’s far enough from Boaz and his people,” I replied.

“Yep, it’s a gated estate with lots of land. No neighbors. Nobody around asking questions.”

I leaned back into the seat, exhaling. “Sounds perfect.”

We rode in silence for a moment, the music soft between us. I looked over at him again, heart pounding for a new reason now.

“Can I see your phone?”

He glanced at me, suspicious. “For what?”

I smiled. “I gotta do something.”

His eyebrow raised skeptically.

I laughed. “I’m gonna go through your contacts and tell all the women in there that I’m yours now.”

There was silence.

“I’m just joking.”

He smirked, but there was something serious in his gaze when he said, “Don’t play with my heart like that.”

That shut me up.

I swallowed and looked away, biting the inside of my cheek.

He handed me his phone anyway, and I took it with both hands, fingers trembling slightly at the unlocked the screen.

I opened the dial pad.

9-1-1.

“Operator, what’s your emergency?”

“Yes,” I said, voice shaking. “There are women being held against their will. Seven of them. In cages. At a compound. 1479 Windemere Hollow Road Tarry Glen, NY 10518. The man’s who owns the house is named Boaz Haim.

Please—you have to hurry. And you might need a swat team because he has security there and they are armed. ”

I was very exact and clear.

Then I felt the phone ripped from my hand.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Riot barked, his eyes wild with fury.

He didn’t wait for an answer.

He opened the window and hurled the phone into the night. I gasped as it disappeared into the dark.

“I needed to help them. Once Irina figures out I’m gone, she’s gonna tell her brother and he’ll kill the girls.”

“You can’t do shit like that without telling me first!”

“I—I thought I was doing the right thing—” I started, voice trembling.

“You should’ve told me!” he shouted. “You should’ve let me handle it.

I would’ve had a crew go in kill everyone there, clean that shit up, made sure every last one of the girls got out.

Quietly. Safely. But now? Now the cops are gonna show up.

Boaz will have his crew out of that in a pinch.

He’ll hunt those girls down and kill them all.

And not to mention that call can be traced back to my phone. ”

I covered my mouth, the tears coming fast.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t think?—”

He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, hard. Then he reached for me with the other and laid his hand on my thigh. Firm. Reassuring.

“Don’t cry,” he said, voice softening. “We’ll figure it out. I ain’t mean to yell at you like that. Don’t make moves like that without consulting me. Don’t do that ever again.”

This was the second time tonight he had demanded that I never do something again. I liked his authority but I felt bad for what I had done.

His palm was warm against my skin. And just like that, my body betrayed me—heat spiraling low in my belly, wetness blooming between my thighs. His touch did something to me. Calmed my panic and ignited something else. Something dangerous.

I looked at him, eyes blurry, heart racing.

Riot didn’t move his hand.

And I didn’t ask him to.

I just let it rest there—heavy, grounding, real—while the highway carried us away from everything I’d ever known.

By the time we pulled up to Riot’s estate, it was well past midnight. The drive had sobered me up in every way possible—emotionally, mentally, even spiritually. That call I made from his phone still burned in my chest. I thought I’d done the right thing. I felt like I had.

But the look on his face when he snatched the phone and hurled it out the window?

That shit was worse than a slap.