Chapter 2

Rachel's POV

I gripped the edge of the delivery bag with white knuckles.

The man in front of me had changed too much.

He wore a custom-tailored black shirt, revealing a watch worth a small fortune.

The boy who used to wear shirts washed until they were nearly transparent had been completely replaced by this dark, powerful figure with an oppressive presence.

He looked down at me from his superior height, unconcealed mockery in his eyes, along with a trace of hatred.

The air around us seemed to freeze.

The people who'd been laughing and chatting in the private room had all fallen silent.

There were plenty of familiar faces among them-those rich heirs who used to orbit around me. Now they all shrank back, watching the show.

Everyone recognized me. Rachel Johnson, once untouchable in New York, then fallen from grace when her family went bankrupt.

"What's wrong? Don't recognize me anymore?"

Xavier pressed down harder with his shoe, grinding it against the not-particularly-sturdy delivery box.

The cardboard made a sharp cracking sound. The soup and sauces inside probably spilled, seeping out from the corner of the box.

I didn't care about the box. I cared about the money they'd deduct.

If this order got charged against me, tonight's work would be for nothing.

Even worse, the system alarm in my head was shrieking so loud it felt like it would pierce my eardrums, making my skull go numb.

"Warning! Core plot character Xavier Cole detected!"

"Mission issued. Host must immediately humiliate the male lead with the following line: 'Someone like you doesn't deserve to eat the food I deliver!'"

"Countdown: ten seconds. Failure penalty: Level 3 electric shock. Host's current physical state cannot withstand it. Fatality rate: ninety-nine percent."

My heart seized violently.

That familiar, near-death sensation was back. It felt like a hand of thorns was squeezing my heart's chambers.

The pain was excruciating.

My broken body couldn't take another round of this torture.

The pain made my eyes instantly red. Tears filled them uncontrollably, falling in large drops.

To avoid dying from pain right here, I had no choice but to grit my teeth and force myself to look up.

I tried to make myself look vicious and cruel, tried to summon the attitude Miss Johnson used to have.

But my body was too honest. Trembling from pain, my voice came out in an unstoppable, tearful quaver. "Xavier... let go."

Xavier stared at my reddened eyes. His movements clearly paused.

He probably hadn't expected that the first time we met, I'd be this pathetic, crying mess.

"Begging me?"

He leaned down, his ice-cold fingers gripping my chin hard enough it felt like he'd crush my bones, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"Where did that Rachel go? The one who threw money in my face and told me to get lost?"

His breath hit my face, completely cold.

The countdown in my head reached zero.

"0!"

Searing pain struck instantly, like ten thousand needles stabbing into my heart simultaneously.

My mind went blank. Not wanting to die, survival instinct took over. I could only cry while shouting out that vicious line.

"You... someone like you doesn't deserve to eat the food I deliver!"

Dead silence filled the room.

Even the background music in the private room seemed to stop.

Everyone stared at me with wide eyes, like they were looking at a lunatic.

I thought I was a lunatic too.

I was calling him beneath me while tears and snot ran down my face uncontrollably, falling in large drops onto his spotless leather shoes.

I thought Xavier would explode with rage, would have someone throw me out, or just smash a bottle over my head.

But he didn't.

He stared at my tears. His Adam's apple bobbed. His eyes became unfathomably dark.

Those pitch-black eyes churned with emotions I couldn't read.

"Beneath you?"

He repeated those three words in a low voice, his fingertips roughly brushing across the corner of my eye. The calluses scraped my skin raw.

"Fine. Then tonight I'll show Miss Johnson exactly how beneath-you people do things."

The next second, he grabbed my wrist with shocking strength and dragged me into the private room.

He kicked the door shut with his foot, cutting off all those spectating gazes.

"Everyone out."

He barked the order without looking back.

Those normally arrogant rich people didn't dare make a sound, slinking out along the wall.

Only he and I remained in the room.

In the dim lighting, he threw me onto the leather sofa and pressed down over me.