"Take it easy, Isabelle, you almost fell," he said, releasing her from his grip.
His tone was sharp and icy.
"Thank you," Isabelle said as she dusted her clothes and limped toward Kane.
Rasmus dragged her hand and pulled her back toward him, their eyes clashing.
Isabelle looked at his lips—the only part, apart from his eyes, not concealed by the mask.
'Damn, such kissable lips,' she thought.
Rasmus looked at Isabelle with his usual expressionless face.
"So, you want to leave without saying goodbye, Isabelle," Rasmus said.
His voice sent chills running through Isabelle's body.
"Goodbye, Rasmus. I hope we never see again."
"Hmmn," Rasmus grinned. "On the contrary, I hope we do see again, Isabelle."
Isabelle didn't know why, but she felt seeing Rasmus again in different circumstances wouldn't be so bad.
'And without the mask,' she thought.
She released herself from Rasmus's grip and limped over to meet Kane.
Then she saw Rasmus walking ahead of her, only for him to stop and offer her his hands.
She took it, and he then placed his hands on her shoulders and assisted her to move.
Kane just respectfully bowed and made his way over to the garage.
Isabelle felt heat in her cheeks—a blush making her face turn red.
Rasmus had his hands on her shoulders, which made her feel... funny.
Rasmus looked at her, noticing the red blush on her face, and he smiled.
They got to the garage, and Kane waved toward them.
He was standing beside a car at the very back of the fleet of vehicles in the garage.
They walked toward him, Rasmus still supporting Isabelle with his arms.
They reached the car—a plain-looking Mustang.
Isabelle went to the passenger seat and sat down, adjusting to feel comfortable.
Kane entered the driver's seat and automatically shut the doors... all of them.
He then rolled down the window—the one on Isabelle's side, where Rasmus stood, his face looking a bit moody.
"So, my stubborn Isabelle, you're leaving," he said, more to himself than to her.
"Yes, pervert. I hope we don't see again," she said, amused.
"Hmmn. We'll see about that," he said, smiling at her.
His smile vanished, replaced by his usual chilling expression.
"You should do well to see a doctor about your legs. Farewell."
He left.
About five meters away, he turned back.
He walked back to the car. Kane had already started the engine.
"So not even a goodbye, hmmn, Isabelle?" he said, chuckling.
She also smiled—that kind of cold smile that could melt a heart.
"Goodbye, Rasmus," she said and rolled up the window.
As the car moved out of the place, she looked at the building.
It was a duplex painted white, with an ethereal look. It looked like a blend of a small castle and a mansion.
'It looks out of this world,' she thought, her mind dwelling on the ultra-modern facilities inside.
She tore her gaze away from the house and focused on the road ahead.
Kane sat in the front seat, focused on the road. She could see his expression in the side mirror—
Cold, calculating, and focused.
"Hey!" she said, waving at his reflection in the mirror.
"What?" he said.
Isabelle felt like her pride had taken a major blow from that reply.
She didn't care, though. She wanted to ask him something.
"About Rasmus."
"Yes, what about him?" he replied.
"Why do you all call him your lord?"
"Hmmn," he chuckled. "I don't think you should know that."
Now Isabelle felt even more curious.
"But I want to."
"More like... we owe him our lives."
Isabelle chuckled, amused.
"Your lives? Did he save you or something?"
Kane just looked ahead, coolly ignoring her.
Isabelle bit her lips, her blood boiling with anger—but she had to get answers.
"Fine. Then why does he wear a mask?"
His face twisted at that question.
"I... don't really know the details of that. Just that nobody has seen his face—even we who work for him."
Curiosity grew in Isabelle's head. The image of Rasmus invaded her mind.
'I wonder what's so special about you,' she thought.
She looked straight ahead, the short conversation leaving her with more questions than answers.
She glanced around and realized she'd been so engrossed in the conversation, she hadn't noticed which way they passed.
Soon they reached the site of the accident—an accident Isabelle was a bit grateful for. It had brought color to her boring life.
"Stop!" she shouted.
He paused, quickly hitting the brake.
He turned to look at her.
"Stop me here. I'll go home from here," she said.
'I don't want him or any of those weirdos to find my house,' she thought.
She didn't know why, but she didn't feel safe knowing that Rasmus—or anyone from that strange place—had an idea where she and her family lived.
"But Master said to drop you home."
"There you go again with the 'master' thing," she exhaled, a bit frustrated.
"I said I want to be stopped here. When you go back, you can gladly tell your master I stopped here. Thank you," she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.
"Tsk." Kane opened his mouth in frustration. He got into the car and was about to move when she called out.
"Stop!" she shouted.
He rolled down the window.
"What?"
"Help me tell your master that I'm thanking him for his hospitality," she said sincerely.
"And that I hope we never see again," she concluded, turning immediately to leave.
"Hey!" Kane called her back.
She turned. He motioned with his head for her to come closer.
She walked back to the car.
"If you want to wish him goodbye so much, you can tell him yourself."
He tossed something shiny at her.
She caught it and looked at it. It was a card—gold in color. Probably a business card, or so she thought, until she turned it over and saw just one thing written on it.
Just a number. A contact number.