Chapter 2 Honey #2
Krystal collapsed onto the couch, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. She lay there for a moment, breathing in the scent of her own space—a soothing mix of lavender, linen, and something faintly citrusy.
The apartment was a soft haven of calm: muted earth tones, pale sage and cream walls, and plush furniture that invited you to sink in and stay awhile.
Lush green plants lined the windowsills and corners, bringing life to the space, while paintings of forests, oceans, and misty mountain paths adorned the walls, casting a serene, almost meditative atmosphere over the room.
“God, it feels so damn good to finally relax in my own place,” she sighed, propping herself up on her elbow.
Her eyes drifted to Darren, who sat near the sleek kitchen island, tapping away on his laptop.
The kitchen, open to the living area, was modern and spotless—stone countertops, warm lighting, and a neat arrangement of mugs and herbs on floating shelves.
“You have no idea how suffocating that Cactus’ house was,” she grumbled. “I was constantly walking on eggshells, scared I’d piss him off just by breathing.”
Darren looked up from his screen, meeting her eyes. He was seated at the edge of the island, a cup of coffee cooling beside him. “If it was that bad, who told you to marry the guy and live in his house?”
Her eyes narrowed sharply.
Darren leaned back, hands raised in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’m shutting up.”
She let the glare linger for a few more seconds before sighing and collapsing back on the couch. Darren turned his attention back to the screen, fingers tapping as he searched.
Down the hall were two bedrooms—one was Krystal’s, full of soft lighting, pale rose bedding, and more of the same tranquil greenery. The other, Darren’s, was simpler but still comfortable.
“You’ve been gone two years, honey,” he said, not looking up. “In the medical field, that’s a long time. Who knows if anyone even remembers Doctor Astra anymore.”
Just then, a pop-up lit up on his laptop. Darren froze. His eyes widened, jaw dropping as he stared at the monitor.
“What is it?” Krystal asked, flipping onto her stomach and lifting herself up on her elbows again to get a better view.
Darren could barely get the words out. “Someone just placed a headhunt… for you.”
She blinked. “For me?”
He turned the screen toward her, stunned. “Twenty five million dollars. Just for anyone who can connect them to you.”
Krystal shot up, legs folded beneath her as she brushed her hair back from her face. “Twenty five million? That would cover every penny I lost by not working these past two years.”
“Cover it?” Darren laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “We wouldn’t just break even—we’d be rolling in money. Back in the game, living big again. This is insane! Should I accept it?”
Krystal, who had been grinning alongside him, suddenly sobered. The excitement drained from her face as a shadow of concern replaced it. She looked at Darren, then shook her head.
“No. Don’t accept it.”
Darren’s smile faded. He straightened up, confused. “What? That’s a shit-ton of money, honey. You want me to negotiate for more?”
She shook her head again, slower this time.
Her voice dropped. “It’s exactly because of that kind of money I ended up meeting that rich asshole two years ago.
And what did I get out of it?” Her voice broke slightly.
“He drugged me. I barely escaped the bar alive. Then I was dragged into some random drugged guy’s car and lost my virginity to him. ”
She went quiet, the memories flooding back hard. That night still haunted her.
A hand had yanked her into a Mercedes. She hadn’t even seen who it was—just a blur.
The drug in her system had made her vulnerable, unable to fight back or think straight.
The man was out of it too. She could tell that he was also given an aphrodisiac.
And in that wild, blurry moment, they’d ended up having a one-night stand right there in the car.
It had been her first time.
And she had no clue who the man was.
The shame still clung to her. By the time she had regained enough awareness, she had scrambled into her clothes and ran—confused, panicked—never once looking back at the stranger she had just slept with.
She exhaled shakily. “High money comes with high risks. And Twenty Five million? That kind of money doesn’t come without consequences.”
Darren stared at her for a beat, then nodded firmly. “You’re right. It’s not worth it. We’re not risking your safety for any amount of cash.”
Krystal sat up straight, her knees pulled to her chest. “Did you ever find out who that man was? The one I slept with that night?”
“I tried,” Darren said with a sigh. “I searched everywhere around that bar. Nothing. He must’ve been someone powerful.
I deleted the CCTV footage from that night, but all it showed was his back as he stumbled into the car—and yours too.
I even checked the license plate. It’s protected.
Super confidential stuff. That guy had to be someone rich and very well-connected. ”
Just then, Krystal’s phone buzzed on the table. The name ‘Damion’ flashed across the screen.
Her face lit up instantly. A soft smile curved her lips as she snatched up the phone. “Hi, Damion!”
“You finally done with that little vacation of yours?” came the deep, gravelly voice on the other end, laced with a hint of amusement.
“I am,” she said, leaning back into the couch, voice light. “Officially back to work.”
“Good.” His voice turned thoughtful. “I’ve got a patient. I need your help.”
“You’re a doctor yourself, Damion,” she teased, grinning. She was one of the few people who knew the truth—that Damion Cage, the man who ran Bristen Hospital and half of Cage Group, was also a gifted surgeon, though he rarely took on cases. “Why would a genius call another genius?”
He gave a low laugh. “Because I don’t touch nerves. You do.”
Then his voice lowered, serious and clipped. “It’s a high-profile case. The patient is important to someone… very powerful. If she dies on the table, the one treating her is done for. I trust you. Help me out, and I’ll owe you one.”
Krystal stifled a laugh, eyes still on her phone. “Well,” she said smoothly into the call, “I’d be a fool to pass up a favor from the mighty Damion Cage. Text me the hospital and room number. I’ll be there soon.”
***
Lorenzo sat behind his desk in his home office, eyes fixed on the photo in front of him.
Krystal’s smile stared back at him.
His laptop sat open beside it, work half-done, completely forgotten. His brow was furrowed, jaw tense, eyes fixed on her image like it could answer every damn question in his head.
It had been almost a week.
And that stubborn woman still hadn’t come home.
“This damn girl...” he muttered through gritted teeth, leaning back in his chair, dragging a hand down his face. “Where the hell is she?”
Just then, the door opened.
Xander stepped in and approached his desk, boots thudding lightly against the hardwood.
Lorenzo straightened in his chair, sharp eyes locking on him. “What is it?”
“We found her, Mr. Moretti. Doctor Astra. Couldn’t make direct contact, but I tracked the car she’s been using. She’ll be traveling down Roosevelt Road in an hour.”
Lorenzo stood immediately, his face turning to stone. “Let’s go.”
Without another word, he and Xander walked out, heading straight to the car.
Moments later, they were on the streets of Manhattan, the city lights casting sharp glows on Lorenzo’s tensed face.