CHAPTER 33
Riven
Girl With One Eye – Florence + The Machines
The underground parking garage is filthy, its harsh lights burning my eyes. The air smells of dust, the kind you find in old books or abandoned places that haven’t been opened in years.
And yet, underneath that, there’s something else.
People, oil, strong synthetic alcohol, burnt rubber and exhaust.
The lingering scent of a place that’s used often, hangs beneath the dust and oil.
It’s a strange mix, weirdly enough, it’s not unpleasant.
It doesn’t matter because there’s no fucking way I’m drinking and there’s no way in hell I’m taking part in whatever this shit is.
I finished fixing his car after wrecking it, that, wasn’t part of the deal.
Evren got out of the car twenty minutes ago, I’m still sitting in my seat, looking around. I had to calm down and unfreeze until thirty second ago.
People keep coming up to Evren, greeting him, showing their respect, laughing with him.
I roll my eyes.
He’s popular.
He’s a sick fuck. Completely unapologetic.
A man who knows exactly what he is and doesn’t lose a second of sleep over it.
I hate him.
But at the same time…I envy him.
He hurts people. He’s selfish, arrogant and yet, he’s happy.
Genuinely.
And suddenly, I start wondering if I’ve been lying to myself for almost two years.
I shake my head.
No.
I am myself. I’m happy.
It’s not because he’s tearing my life apart, turning upside down everything I spent years carefully building, everything that finally made me feel safe and it’s not because I stopped being that chaotic, rebellious rich heiress—the girl who felt so damn alive back then—that I’m unhappy now.
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, this whole kidnapping ordeal is giving me a headache—No, Evren is giving me a headache.
The bastard manages to do it just by breathing.
I lean back and close my eyes, losing track of time.
I don’t even bother trying the door.
Whether it’s locked or not doesn’t matter. If it’s open, he knows I’ll try to leave.
If it’s closed, he’s expecting me to test it. Either way, he knows.
And somewhere out there, that bastard is probably just waiting for me to do something. And I will, just when he doesn’t expect it.
A sudden slap against the car window makes my whole body jump in my seat.
I whip my head around and find Evren outside, smirking.
What does he want now?
“Get out, Riven,” he says, his voice slightly muffled by the glass between us. “You're about to see how the real-world works—not whatever spoiled little life you've been hiding in.”
Evren yanks the door open, grabs me by my upper arm, and hauls me out.
I gasp and drive my fist into his solar plexus.
He lets out a soft oof, but nothing more.
“You can fight back, I don’t care.” He leans close to my ear. “Now, behave.”
His tongue flicks out just below my ear, making me yelp and squeeze my eyes shut for a second to compose myself.
Fuck that man.
I swear he plays too much, and I’m done letting him play like this.
He steps back.
Then he heads over to Neo, who’s busy downing some kind of neon-green liquid.
What the fuck is that?
Every time he takes a shot, he grimaces and howls like a dying animal.
Disgusting.
And they call me feral? The pot calling the kettle black.
I’m left alone by his car.
But I know—God knows how—that either he or one of his dogs is watching me closely.
So, I will play along, for now. Until an opportunity presents itself.
And when it does, I’ll get the fuck out of here.
Even if I have to walk for hours, even if I have to crawl. I’m getting out.
I turn my head and look at the crowd. It’s a lot smaller than the race where I first met Evren.
Honestly, it almost feels like some kind of reunion between old school buddies.
Which is… kind of cute.
If you ignore the screaming animals, the drinking, and the illegal races. Then it’s just a bunch of lunatics having a wholesome get-together.
I catch a few men making their way toward me, but before they even get within five meters—or before I can insult their ancestors for the next ten generations—one of Evren’s dogs cuts them off and sends them elsewhere.
Like I can’t defend myself.
That alone makes my blood boil.
I’m not some helpless doll, I can protect myself.
And the fact that they don’t even give me the chance to prove it pisses me off.
I know, they know I can, because with what I said or did to Ren, or worse to Evren, I’ll already be dead by now if not.
I scoff and turn my attention to the races.
At the starting line, a bike and a car sit side by side.
Between them stands a gorgeous woman holding a pair of flags. She raises them for a second and drops them.
The two competitors explode forward.
Before I know it, I catch myself watching, curious to see who’ll win.
Probably the motorcycle. It’s slimmer, easier to maneuver, and can weave between the concrete pillars of the underground parking lot—
What the hell am I doing?
“I bet the car will win.”
Evren’s voice comes from behind me.
How the fuck did he get there?
I turn and find him perched on the roof of his car, crouched down with his forearms resting on his knees, looking down at me with that infuriating smirk.
Everything about his posture screams dominance and arrogance.
I turn my back on him.
“The bike is slimmer. Easier to handle. Less chance of smashing into a pillar,” I say, pretending I know what I’m talking about. “And here I thought you were the racer.”
Evren laughs.
Before I can react, he grabs me under the arms and lifts me like I weigh nothing, not even losing his balance.
I must look like a toddler being picked up by an adult.
It’s ridiculous, humiliating.
Heat floods my face, embarrassment mixing with rage.
“Put me down!”
“No.” He pulls me back against his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist. “You think you know everything, troublemaker? Then watch and learn.”
He sets me back on the ground.
I stumble from the sudden movement, but his big, rough, calloused hands catch my shoulders, steadying me before letting go.
And then he’s gone again, disappearing into the crowd in a blur.
I turn back to the race and the car is gaining on the bike.
Fuck.
He’s going to win, which means I’m going to lose. And somehow, I hate that even more than being picked up like some misbehaving toddler.
Bastard.
Suddenly, a female voice pierce through the heavy music, the drunk people and roar of the race, no one looks, but I do.
I turn toward the sound and find a blonde with neon-pink streaks in her hair, tits as big as my fucking wounded ego, and lips so overfilled they look like a fish trying to breathe on land.
Lovely.
I see her running, shoving her way through the crowd in high heels.
Damn, girl. You’re brave.
She makes a beeline for a group of men and throws herself at one of them, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him like she’s starving.
Go, girl. Get your man.
The more I watch the scene unfold, the deeper my frown becomes.
Then I freeze.
It’s Evren.
One eyebrow shoots up.
Oh, I see.
So that bastard has been acting like a psychopath with me while he has a girl.
I mean, I have Liam, but it’s not like I chose to be here.
Evren is the one who chose. And there he is, with some perfect doll hanging off his neck.
Disgusting.
I don’t wait to see if he kisses her back. This is the perfect opportunity.
I glance around, his dogs are looking at him, too, momentarily busy with her arrival.
Perfect.
I move, slipping into the crowd, I head for the edge of the parking lot.
I’m not staying here. And I’m definitely not letting him anywhere near me again.
I almost pity her. Really.
Her man is doing things with another woman—me, willing or not—while she has no idea.
He’s a cheater.
He’s doing it willingly.
I’m not.
Even if my body betrays me, even if it reacts when I hate every second of it, I don’t want any of this.
I already hate him. But this? This adds a layer of disgust so deep, so profound, that I think my body will never betray me again.
All I can see now is what he really is—obsessive, arrogant, psychotic, cheater bastard.
I’m going home, and I will never get near him again.
Ever.