Chapter 1 Prologue-The New CEO

"Phoebe, pack your things and report to the CEO's office now!" the HR manager, Alvis, commanded. Phoebe, who had been carefully organizing documents at her desk, immediately stopped what she was doing and responded, "Got it, sir!""I mean NOW! Don't keep boss waiting!" Alvis urged. Phoebe didn't dare hesitate any longer and hurriedly stood up to gather her belongings. Ten minutes later, she was on the top floor, her arms full of items. The company had been doing well, but for some reason, it was mysteriously acquired by an unknown corporation last week, and with that, a new boss had taken over. The news had shocked the entire staff, including Phoebe. But what puzzled her even more was how she had inexplicably become the new CEO's secretary. Was she lucky or unlucky? On one hand, her salary had doubled, but on the other, she had suddenly become the target of envy and hostility from the female employees. As she stepped out of the elevator and arrived at the CEO's office door, she knocked lightly and politely said, "Sir, I'm your new secretary, here to report for duty!""..." No response. Thinking the new CEO hadn't heard her, Phoebe raised her voice slightly and repeated, "Sir, I'm your new secretary, here to report!" Still, there was no sound. Phoebe grew nervous. Had she knocked wrong, or was it the way she spoke? As her mind raced with various thoughts, a deep, magnetic voice finally broke the silence. "Come in." Two word, simple and cold, yet with a husky edge. Phoebe's heart skipped a beat. That voice—it felt strangely familiar. A face flashed in her mind, and her heart ached with a dull pain. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she told herself not to think about it. That man was long gone from her life. For the past five years, she had lived peacefully, happy with her children. Why was she even thinking about him? Pushing away the thoughts, Phoebe quietly opened the door and walked in. "Hello, sir, I'm Phoebe Garcia, your new secretary!" she introduced herself politely, staring at the figure with his back to her. But the moment he turned around, and their eyes met—those cold, piercing eyes—Phoebe froze in place. The items in her hands scattered across the floor as her face filled with shock and terror. Instinctively, she stepped back, retreating toward the door. As her legs wobbled from the shock, she nearly fell but caught herself against the wall. Just as she steadied herself and was about to make a run for it, a strong arm suddenly grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the wall. "Phoebe Garcia? Where do you think you're going?" His voice was low, filled with hatred, each word spoken through gritted teeth. "Bastard! Let go of me!" Phoebe struggled to break free, biting down on her lip in frustration. Fate had a cruel sense of humor—she had wondered why something so good had fallen into her lap. Now she knew—it was this bastard pulling the strings! She had worked so hard to stay out of his life, to disappear entirely. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? "Let go!" she demanded, her voice tight with anger, pushing him as hard as she could. But the strength difference between a man and a woman was too great—her efforts were futile. "Phoebe, do you really think I'll let you go this time?" His dark, obsidian-like eyes grew even more intense as he tightened his grip on her wrist, deliberately causing her pain. This time, he planned to make her pay for everything she had done. Phoebe cried out in pain, his grip so strong it felt like he was going to crush her bones. Did he enjoy tormenting her? Desperate, Phoebe did the only thing she could—she leaned in and bit his arm. Alexander hadn't expected her to bite him, and in his moment of pain, he released her. Phoebe, finally free, shoved him away and bolted for the door. "Damn it!" Alexander cursed under his breath. There was no way he would let her escape again. He quickly followed after her. Just as Phoebe reached the elevator, Alexander caught up and slammed her against the wall again, his large frame towering over her small body. He bent down and fiercely captured her lips in a brutal kiss. Five years, and she was still as sweet as ever! The moment he saw her again, he had fought to suppress the overwhelming desire that surged within him. But no matter how hard he tried, his heart wouldn't stop racing for her. He had to admit, over the past five years, she had transformed. Gone was the innocent girl—now she exuded a mature femininity that made her even more irresistible. Damn this woman! Even with her poisonous heart, he couldn't control his feelings for her. Despite knowing all the unforgivable things she had done, despite his plans to punish her, he still found himself unable to resist her. Like now—he should be reprimanding her, but instead, all he could think about was kissing her. He had missed these lips for five long years. In all that time, he hadn't touched another woman. Now, after so long, finally tasting her sweetness again, he couldn't control himself. He kissed her harder, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, tangling with hers. His kiss was angry, possessive, and dominant, forcing her to submit. The intensity of it was too much for her to bear. Finally, tears of frustration slid down Phoebe's cheeks as she weakly pounded her fists against his chest. She didn't understand this man at all. Just moments ago, he had looked at her with hatred and disgust, but now—why was he kissing her? What did he want? Would he only be satisfied once she was completely broken? Her heart hurt, the pain unbearable, her tears flowing uncontrollably. The kiss seemed to last forever, until Phoebe, who had initially resisted, found herself succumbing to the feelings she had fought so hard to deny. She hated herself for it, but there was nothing she could do. No matter how much she tried to forget him, her heart wouldn't let go. Five years, ten years—she knew she would never forget this man who had caused her so much pain. At last, Alexander, satisfied with the kiss, pulled back slightly. He remained close, his arms trapping her securely. Gazing down at her swollen, reddened lips, he reached out with a long finger, gently brushing against them. His dark, unreadable eyes gave no indication of what he was thinking or what he intended to do next. He simply stroked her lips softly, over and over. Phoebe, her voice raw with frustration, screamed, "What do you want from me?" He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What do I want? You'll find out soon enough." With that, he hoisted her up and carried her back into the office. The door slammed shut behind them as he swept everything off his desk and laid her on top of it, his body pressing down on hers, trapping her completely. Every cell in his body screamed that he wanted her—needed her. This time, he wouldn't let her get away. Not again. If he had suffered for five years, then this woman would suffer too. She wouldn't escape his grasp again. Never.

Chapter 2 Are you a virgin?

Five years ago... Outside a dimly lit, intoxicating bar at night, Phoebe stood with her head lowered, nervously watching the men and women who continuously went in and out of the establishment. It was her first time in a place like this, and the unfamiliar environment already made her feel uneasy. The leering gazes of some of the men nearby only heightened her anxiety, causing her to break out in a cold sweat. She was too scared to even take another step forward. "Hey, are you...?" A voice suddenly appeared near her ear, making her heart skip a beat. The man didn't say so explicitly, but the leering look up and down his face said it all. Phoebe timidly raised her head, only to regret coming here the moment she saw the disgusting man standing in front of her. But there was no turning back now. A bitter taste spread in her mouth as she lowered her eyes. Did she even have a choice? She didn't. Her father was still lying in a hospital bed, her brother had accumulated a massive debt due to his drug addiction, and her mother spent her days in tears. Phoebe needed money—tonight, she had to find a way to get it. Biting her lip hard, she nodded. "Fine, name your price," the man said, leering at her. Before Phoebe could say anything, he continued, "You're quite pretty. How does 500 for one night sound?" 500? Phoebe's face turned pale in an instant. Was that all? She had come here with such determination, but now it seemed she had been far too naïve. Even if she sold her body, she wouldn't be able to make nearly enough money in one go. Phoebe's eyes darkened, and she remained silent. Seeing her hesitation, the man spoke again, "Sweetie, 500 is already a high price. Think it again." Phoebe was a student, she didn't know anything about hookers, she just knew that it wasn't enough. She let out a bitter smile, one filled with sorrow. 500 was nothing compared to the enormous amount she needed. She had to shake her head ready to give up on this stupid plan. Just as she took a step to leave, a voice stopped her in her tracks. "First time here?" A middle-aged man, who had just come out of the bar, greeted her with a smile. He had been watching her for a while and was sure she was hesitating on how to take the first step in this shameful path. Phoebe's body trembled slightly, her teeth biting down on her lip. She nodded nervously, her mind screaming at her not to back down. She needed money, and she had to get it tonight. The man's sharp eyes scanned her from head to toe. She looked like an innocent student, but her beauty was undeniable, hidden beneath her awkward and shy demeanor. After a moment, he nodded slightly, clearly satisfied with the "goods" he had found tonight. The man smirked inwardly—this was quite a catch. "Don't be nervous... I'm the manager of this bar. Is there anything I can help you with?" His seemingly polite tone sounded grating to her ears. "I... I..." Phoebe stammered, unable to get the words out. "Are you short on money, young lady?""Yes. I need a lot of money.""I... I want to find... a wealthy man..." Phoebe closed her eyes, summoning all the courage she could muster to finish her sentence. She didn't want to waste time—her family needed money, and fast. At this point, she had no choice but to push forward. If she could avoid it, she would never have set foot in such a dirty place in her life. But she couldn't think of any other way to make quick and large amounts of money. She had no other option. "Are you sure about this? If you do it once, it's forever.""..." Phoebe bit her lip, her face drained of color. She summoned all her strength and nodded. "I... I only want to do it once..." That was the limit she had set for herself. "Alright. Take off your glasses." Phoebe hesitated for a moment, struggling internally before slowly removing the thick black-framed glasses she wore. She hated how exposed it made her feel... The man was taken aback. He hadn't expected her to be this beautiful. He had been right—she was a rare beauty. This was a golden opportunity. A girl like her would easily fetch him millions... His gaze, as if she were a zoo animal on display, made her feel humiliated and ashamed. It hurt more than a slap in the face. Feeling extremely uncomfortable, she quickly put her glasses back on. "Hmm, not bad. You look like you're still a student." His casual words cut her deeply. "Yes! I've run into some trouble, and I desperately need money." She tried to explain, but it seemed pointless. Any explanation felt hollow and futile in this situation. "I've seen a lot of people in your situation. But... you've got great potential.""How old are you?""Eighteen." Phoebe felt a lump form in her throat as she looked at the man, who was about thirty years old. After a moment, she nervously asked, "How much can I get?" Her voice was soft, tinged with bitterness and sorrow. This was the real issue she had to face, wasn't it? Time was running out. "Don't worry. I'll find you a wealthy client. How much you need?" Phoebe blinked, startled. She had assumed this manager wanted to buy her for himself. But apparently, that wasn't the case. "Three hundred thousand..." She said the figure quietly, a bitter taste filling her mouth. It didn't matter who the buyer was—whether they were tall or short, fat or thin—she had no choice but to accept. "OK, are you a virgin?" Phoebe's mind went blank at his blunt question. Shame surged through her, and her face instantly flushed with embarrassment. His vulgar words left her completely defenseless. She slowly nodded. Even the last shred of her dignity was swept away by the cold night breeze. A bitter smile crept across her face. She was just an eighteen-year-old student, yet she had to endure something so unbearable. But did she really have a choice? "As long as you're a virgin, everything will be fine," the man said, clearly pleased. A pure and innocent girl like her would be a hit with wealthy clients. "Here's my card. Call me tomorrow at 8 PM..."

Chapter 3 Forbidden

On a summer night, the city was ablaze with lights, hosting a world-renowned luxurious yacht party. Phoebe stood still by the window like a beautiful statue, not moving an inch. However, her hands at her sides were clenched tightly, her knuckles pale. The sea breeze brushed her face, but all she could feel was a bone-chilling cold. The moonlit night outside was mesmerizing, yet she had no heart to appreciate it. Watching the elite guests move across the yacht's deck, each of them radiated an aura of wealth and prestige. They whispered in low voices, laughing softly, clinking their glasses in elegant toasts. She smiled bitterly. This was the stark difference between the rich and the poor. The world was never fair, and all she could do was use her body to save her family. Raising her eyes to the empty night sky, her heart filled with a deep sadness. She felt utterly lost. "Follow me." A deep, magnetic voice came from behind her. Phoebe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling in turmoil. She struggled for a long moment before finally loosening her clenched fists. A self-deprecating smile crossed her lips. At this point, did she even have a choice? She was just a student, meant to enjoy the carefree life that kids her age had. Yet here she was—about to engage in such a dirty transaction. Steeling herself, she summoned every ounce of strength and courage she had left, following the man the bar manager had introduced to her. With each step, she tried to calm her breathing, gripping the hem of her dress tightly as she silently passed through lavish hallways. The luxurious evening gown accentuated her graceful figure, her delicate shoulder blades peeking through, but the exposed skin on her back sent an uncomfortable chill down her spine. She was always conservative by nature, and this was the first time she had worn such revealing clothes. It made her feel uneasy. "Remember what I told you?""Mm-hmm." The man leading the way had been sent by the buyer. He was young, handsome even, but cold and distant, making him difficult to approach. He guided her through the hallway and into an elevator. It ascended quickly, stopping at the 36th floor. When the doors slid open, she followed him into an empty corridor, the silence suddenly filling her with dread. She clasped her hands behind her back, struggling to hold on to her courage. She kept reminding herself: Phoebe, you can't back out now. For your parents, for your brother, for your family, you have to face this. Soon, they stopped in front of a room. The man turned to her and gave one final instruction. "Remember what I said. If you don't follow the rules, I can't guarantee you'll leave here alive." His voice was cold, chilling her to the bone. Phoebe nodded, her mind racing to recall the forbidden rules. First, no resistance. Second, no kissing. Third… "After it's over, take this pill. The boss doesn't want any trouble." Phoebe took the small white pill from him. She didn't know what it was, but the man had been clear—she had to obey. If she broke even one of the rules, she wouldn't get a single penny. She had no choice but to accept. "You can go in now.""Okay." Phoebe pressed her lips together, feeling as though her feet had turned to lead, each step harder than the last. She wanted to run—so badly. But was it too late to back out now? The thought of her brother, Gordon, sent a wave of pain through her heart. She couldn't just watch him die! In her memories, he was kind, smart, and talented. He could still be saved. If they could pay off the loan sharks, if he could get clean from drugs, he could start fresh and live a new life. This was her only chance—if she didn't take it, he was as good as dead. With renewed determination, she steeled herself, raising her hand to knock. With a soft creak, the door slowly opened. She forced herself to step inside, her heart pounding as the door clicked shut behind her. The sound echoed in her chest, and a wave of panic surged through her. She trembled uncontrollably, waiting in the thick silence. For a long time, nothing happened. She exhaled shakily, her rigid body relaxing slightly. No one was there. Ignoring the luxurious surroundings, she quickly scanned the room for the bathroom, then rushed inside. Her first task was clear: she needed to clean herself, and then, like a prostitute, lie on the bed and wait for the man to arrive. The luxurious bathroom was filled with a delicate feminine fragrance. Standing before the mirror, surrounded by mist, Phoebe resembled a beautiful goddess, motionless, her hands by her sides, fingers curled tightly into fists. Her nails dug deep into her palms. Despite her young age, her figure was flawless, her skin fair and soft. In the mirror, her delicate, pinkish body was wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her white skin glowed with a delicate blush, like cherry blossoms in spring, and droplets of water glistened as they slid down her skin. Her face, bare of makeup, was still stunning. She hadn't applied any, knowing that the man didn't like it. Yet her face was pale, drained of color from fear, like a porcelain doll that could shatter at any moment. Her long lashes drooped, and droplets of water clung to them like unshed tears. Her once-rosy lips were now colorless, etched with deep bite marks. Soon, she would sell her innocence to a mysterious man. Her heart twisted in agony, but… She had to keep going. Stepping out of the bathroom, her fear surged once more. Suddenly… All the lights went out.

Chapter 4 Gunshot

Without warning, darkness engulfed the room, plunging her into a pitch-black world. Power outage? Phoebe's heart clenched, fear and panic consuming her. It felt like a suffocating weight was closing in, making her body tremble uncontrollably. Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past her, and before she could react, a strong arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Her bare back pressed against a firm chest. Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat emanating from him. Startled, she let out a cry, "NO..." But the man chuckled darkly, his deep, husky voice breaking the silence of the room. "Don't make a fuss..." His voice was intoxicating, but why did it carry such an overwhelming sense of dominance? The aura of this man was formidable! "You...who are you?" Phoebe mustered the courage to ask, her voice trembling. Though the room was pitch dark, the man's sharp eyes could clearly catch every emotion in her wide, clear eyes—those beautiful eyes, like black pearls, pure and flawless. In the darkness, his keen gaze continued to scrutinize her. She was terrified, and it showed. His thin lips curved into a smirk as he leaned closer. "Perhaps you should focus on how to please me next," he whispered. Phoebe's heart skipped a beat, pounding erratically. Was this the man who had bought her? His voice was seductive, yet it filled her with dread. Through the darkness, though she couldn't see his face, she could feel his arrogant, playful gaze, his natural grace and nobility. And those dark eyes, like a deep, cold lake—utterly captivating, but without warmth. She shivered instinctively, his breath on her skin making her body tremble with fear. She wanted to escape, but there was no way out now. His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her body closer to his hard chest. "You know what to do, right?" His deep, magnetic voice commanded, as he held her chin, looking down at her in the dark. Phoebe forced a bitter smile, nodding despite the fear. "Yes." Nervous, anxious, terrified. Remembering scenes from the erotic videos she'd seen before, she reached out her trembling hand... The temperature in the room suddenly soared. Scattered on the floor were a man's jacket and shirt...the air thick with the heat of passion, the sound of her soft moans mingling with the tension. A wild, domineering, forceful conquest was about to begin. She didn't know when, but the towel wrapped around her had fallen, and cold, rough hands were prying her legs apart... Suddenly, an unnoticed undercurrent of danger surged through the air. Bang-- A gunshot rang out, shattering the night. Several shadows darted into the room, firing rapidly at the man. "AHH--" Phoebe's terrified scream mingled with the echo of gunfire, abruptly ending the heated moment. The man acted instinctively, throwing her aside and swiftly grabbing his discarded jacket. Rolling across the floor, he quickly took cover in the shadows. His long, cold fingers grasped a black gun, and with piercing eyes, he aimed at the intruders, cold light flashing from his gaze. Bang, bang, bang— Outside, flashes of lightning illuminated the sky, only to be swallowed by the darkness again. Winds howled, and the night was blanketed in thick fog. Thunder roared furiously, like a wild beast or a demon. *** Phoebe awoke with a start. The room was eerily silent. All she could hear was her own ragged breathing and the erratic pounding of her heart. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, dampening her hair. Her pale, delicate face was drained of color. Where am I? The unfamiliar surroundings left her disoriented. The pungent smell of disinfectant made her stomach churn. A dull pain throbbed in her chest, and she stiffened. Glancing down at the hospital gown she wore, memories of that night began to resurface...and she realized what had happened. God, I'm still alive? The door opened softly. "Phoebe, lie down quickly! Don't tear your stitches!" It was Phoebe's mother,Anila, her voice filled with concern as she rushed over to the bed, gently helping her daughter lie back down. "Mom!" Phoebe's eyes welled up as she looked at her mother, a sudden wave of dread washing over her. How had she ended up in the hospital? Did her mother know what had happened? Nervous, anxious, scared. The thought of her parents finding out terrified her. They came from a conservative family—if they knew what she had done, how could they ever accept it? Silently, she prayed that they knew nothing. "My dear girl, I almost lost you!" Anila sat at the bedside, her face etched with exhaustion and worry. She looked much older, clearly having not rested well in days. "Mom, I'm fine! I..." Phoebe tried to speak but hesitated, unsure if she should ask how she had ended up here, and if they knew the truth. "How can you say you're fine? You got shot!" Anila's voice broke as she struggled to hold back her tears. Just a few days ago, her daughter had been perfectly fine, and now she was lying in a hospital bed. "Mom, how long have I been here?""Three days.""What about Gordon?" Phoebe shot up in bed, ignoring the pain in her chest as she grabbed her mother's hand. Three days? "Phoebe, don't worry. Gordon's fine..." Anila reassured her gently. Such a foolish child—after everything, she was still concerned about her troubled brother. He's fine? Phoebe stared wide-eyed at her mother. Was he really, or was she just saying that to comfort her? "Phoebe, I'm telling the truth. The debt has been paid.""Mom, where did you get the money?""A middle-aged man gave us compensation. He paid us 500,000 as compensation. I used the money to pay off the loan sharks." Anila's voice trembled with emotion. Her daughter had almost lost her life, but in doing so, she had saved her brother's. It was all because of them. He gave her money? She had thought... "Mom, do you know anything else?" Phoebe asked cautiously, her heart tightening with fear. "What do you mean, Phoebe?""Nothing, Mom. It's fine. As long as Gordon's safe, that's all that matters." After her mother left, silence fell once more. Phoebe lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. That gunshot...not only had it not killed her, but it had also saved her brother's life. Was this divine intervention?

Chapter 5 Two Years Later

Two years later. At the art gallery, the staff bustled through the exhibition halls, meticulously preparing for an upcoming grand solo art show. "Phoebe! How's the progress on Curtis' exhibition?" A deep voice asked from the other end of the phone. "Everything's ready, just waiting for the gallery to open." Phoebe adjusted the outdated glasses perched on her nose. Her long hair was tied into a neat ponytail, giving her a fresh and elegant appearance. After hanging up, Phoebe carefully examined the paintings on the wall. This exhibition was part of Curtis' nationwide tour, and she was fortunate to have been selected as the temporary tour assistant for this world-renowned artist. During a small exhibition, one of Phoebe's own pieces caught Curtis' eye by chance. He appreciated her unique perspective on art, and that stroke of luck made her his chosen assistant. Phoebe had a natural talent for painting. For the past two years, her goal had been to apply to Valleybrook's top art school. However, due to the high tuition costs, she ultimately chose a more affordable university that offered a full scholarship. This opportunity was rare and hard-won for Phoebe. She cherished it, seeing it as a chance not only to gain experience but to broaden her horizons and grow as an artist. Curtis, who had rapidly risen in the art world in recent years, had a distinct style that was beloved by critics and collectors alike. Young, vibrant, and full of life, his work mirrored his persona and made him a prominent figure in contemporary art. As the gallery's opening hour arrived, the staff quickly vacated the space. Phoebe, dressed in a sharp professional outfit, moved through the corridors with a faint, content smile on her face. The exhibition drew large crowds from around the world. Despite their different backgrounds, everyone shared a love for art. In addition to managing the exhibition's logistics, Phoebe had the important responsibility of explaining the artworks to the visitors. She moved gracefully from one piece to another, offering detailed insights into each one. Her understanding of Curtis' work was deep, and she effortlessly provided satisfying explanations to all who asked. These interpretations were entirely her own, not pre-prepared notes, and reflected her genuine understanding of the art. By the end of the day, though physically exhausted, Phoebe felt fulfilled. She loved this kind of life. *** The night in Valleybrook was serene and tranquil, its beauty lifting her spirits. A black SUV sped down the highway, cutting through the calm. "Phoebe, today's exhibition went very smoothly. We should have a celebration dinner later," Curtis' French assistant, Merle, suggested cheerfully, speaking in fluent English as he glanced at Phoebe, a bright smile on his face. "It's mainly because of Curtis' amazing work," Phoebe nodded modestly. This was likely the largest exhibition in the country so far, and it had exceeded expectations, with an overwhelming number of visitors attending. "Phoebe, the exhibition's success is largely thanks to you," Merle praised, clearly impressed by her abilities. "Merle, you're too kind. I don't deserve all that credit. It's the result of everyone's hard work, and, of course, Curtis' outstanding art," Phoebe replied with a shy smile, lowering her head slightly in embarrassment. She knew it wasn't solely her doing; it was a team effort. "Phoebe, now that the exhibition is over, why don't you come to France with us?" Merle asked, his tone sincere. He clearly admired her skills. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm a bit of a homebody. I prefer to stay here and develop my career," Phoebe smiled politely, gently turning down the invitation. Her gaze shifted to Curtis, who was resting in the front seat, his eyes closed. This French man was strikingly handsome, with sharp, well-defined features and an athletic build. Being around someone like him made her feel secure. Suddenly, Curtis opened his mesmerizing blue eyes, locking them with Phoebe's slightly startled dark ones. "Phoebe, do you not like being around me?" His voice was smooth, as rich and intoxicating as fine wine. Phoebe felt a bit flustered. She blinked her long lashes behind her thick-framed glasses and stammered, "No, it's not that. I just think I'm more comfortable here. I might struggle to adjust to a new place." In truth, she loved the idea of France, the romantic allure of it, but as a family-oriented girl, she preferred to stay close to her parents, wanting to care for them. "Phoebe, come to France with me, please? You'll have a much brighter future there," Curtis' gaze was serious as he tried to persuade her. "I…" Words failed her. His eyes were so earnest, making it difficult for her to respond. Although they had only spent a month working together, mostly discussing business, this French artist had left a profound impression on her. His deep blue eyes held a tinge of melancholy, and he spoke with a gentle warmth. Curtis was a gentleman through and through, always considerate towards women. The artistic aura that radiated from him was undeniably attractive. But she couldn't leave her family behind. Shaking her head gently, she smiled and said softly, "I truly appreciate your offer, but I really don't think I'm suited for that. Besides, I haven't even graduated yet!""Phoebe, don't reject me so quickly. I'll give you time to think about it," Curtis replied. "Yes, Phoebe, don't decide just yet. Take some time to consider it," Merle added. It was obvious to everyone how Curtis felt about her. Phoebe bit her lip, her oval face almost entirely hidden behind her oversized glasses. It was the first time she'd seen such a sorrowful expression on his face. But she didn't want to explore whatever feelings lay beneath that sadness—those were far beyond her reach. She wasn't a Cinderella from a fairy tale and didn't dare dream of something so unrealistic. "Thank you both for your kindness, I—""I'll give you time!" Curtis interrupted gently. For a moment, the car was filled with silence, each person lost in their thoughts. Phoebe gazed out the window, her mind in turmoil. Suddenly, the sharp sound of screeching brakes tore through the quiet night. An eerie fog seemed to descend upon them. The suddenness of it snapped them all out of their thoughts. Phoebe's chest tightened, and she nervously looked outside. The car rocked violently as the piercing sound of brakes filled the air. What on earth was happening?