My Abductor, My Submissive 16+

Chapter 17: Rage

I shake my head in disbelief as I process what the receptionist just told me, but there's no time to waste- I have to go after him.

I can't bear the thought of losing him. "Can I have your car keys?" I urgently request, glancing through the glass and catching a glimpse of Lorenzo starting his car.

All this time, he has been hiding his true identity from me. I've heard rumors about Lorenzo Fernández, but I've never seen a picture of him. It's difficult to comprehend.

Why would he attend an orientation at my college and track down my information if he's so powerful?

So many questions swirl in my mind, demanding answers.

Why was he willing to abduct me when he's a billionaire? I need to know the truth.

The receptionist places the car keys on the countertop, and I snatch them, rushing through the door just as Lorenzo speeds away in his car.

Standing before a sea of vehicles, I wonder which car belongs to the receptionist.

I press the button on the key, and a black Honda Civic parked nearby emits a confirming beep, and I hasten toward it, quickly getting inside and closing the door.

Starting the car, I pull out of the parking lot and head towards the main road, spotting Lorenzo in the distance.

Where is he going?

Why would he leave me behind, knowing that I'm being hunted?

Damn it, Lorenzo! Frustration wells up inside me.

As I follow him, he runs a red light while I slow down, watching him disappear into the distance.

He's so infuriated that he disregards a red fucking  light!

Cars on either side of me come to a stop, leaving me anxious, wondering if one of them is the person who wants me dead.

Finally, the light turns green, and I accelerate, catching sight of Lorenzo's car again.

He signals a left turn, and I do the same, observing as he enters a club.

Why on earth is he going to a club?

Just as I'm about to hurry and drive toward him, a car cuts in front of me, blocking my path.

What a fucking asshole!

There's plenty of space, yet he chooses to cut me off.

I reverse my car to make way for him, watching as he drives past slowly.

His window is rolled down, revealing a man covered in tattoos who stares at me intently as he passes, making me quickly avert my gaze, then drive back into the flow of traffic, realizing that Lorenzo is already inside the club.

Letting out a sigh, I park the car in one of the available spaces and step out of the vehicle.

People outside are watching me as I make my way toward the entrance. Some are drinking, smoking, or engaging in intimate moments with burly bikers who cast odd glances in my direction.

Out of all the clubs in New York, he chose this one.

I feel out of place as I walk past scandalously dressed women who eye me with disdain.

What's wrong with wearing jeans and a blouse?

Anxiously, I run my hand over my arm as I enter the club, aware of unfamiliar faces and hungry men ogling at me.

The place is packed, and I despise crowded environments, and I wish I had my phone to call Lorenzo, but even if I did, I doubt he would answer.

I make my way to the bar and stand there, surveying the surroundings. Unfortunately, I have no cash to order anything, and besides, I don't drink alcohol of any kind.