14 Test Drive

Gemma's POV.

I'm the top salesperson again this month.

Lying on Luke's couch, hugging a pillow, I'm grinning at my bank account balance on my phone when it suddenly hits me—the person who made the biggest contribution to my sales this month.

And then, my smile freezes.

The first time I met Dmitri, I was still in college.

I was out for a night run on the track, and when I got tired, I stopped and sat down at the edge.

Leaning against a wall, behind me were stairs leading up to the second-floor bleachers, and on the first floor was the equipment room.

Because of the stairs blocking my view, I didn't see Dmitri walk out of the equipment room.

Suddenly, in my line of sight appeared a tall man with broad shoulders and a narrow waist.

He was standing not too far away, talking on his phone.

The dim lighting on the track at night only allowed me to make out his sharp features and defined jawline.

He clamped the phone between his shoulder and cheek, pulled out a cigarette pack, tapped out a cigarette, and then took out a small box. He used a needle-like tool to poke the cigarette and inserted something like incense into it.

I couldn't help but admire how even his smoking looked so elegant.

Apparently unaware of my presence, he briefly paused as he shielded his lighter and lit the cigarette.

Much later, after we'd known each other for a while, he brought up our first meeting, saying I scared him half to death—he thought he'd seen a ghost.

But I told him, if I were a ghost, I'd be a pretty one.

He raised both hands in agreement.

"What are you thinking about?" Luke's voice interrupts my thoughts.

"I'm thinking about how many days you'll be away on this trip," I reply.

A suitcase is spread open on the living room floor, and Luke walks out of the bedroom carrying a pile of clothes.

He bends down to put the clothes in the suitcase, then stands up and turns to look at me, his tone calm but dangerous, "If you go looking for that coffee shop guy again, you'll face the consequences."

I giggle, stretching out a leg, trying to nudge his pants with my toes. "I won't see him. How about I find someone else?"

Luke grabs my ankle.

I gasp, "—Ouch—Okay, I was wrong—"

He places my leg back on the couch.

I tug on the hem of his shirt with my hand.

"What did this shirt ever do to you? It seems like you're ready to ruin it," Luke raises an eyebrow.

"Come here," I pull on him again.

Luke sits down on the couch.

I sit up, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You'll be gone for days. Leave me something before you go."

"What?"

I pout, making a kissing gesture.

"I thought you'd ask for something else," Luke's gaze briefly flickers over my chest.

"Pervert!"

Luke stands up. "The pervert needs to leave now."

I grab his shirt hem again, and in the quiet room, the faint sound of a seam tearing fills the air.

"I didn't mean to," I let him go.

"Now that you want it that badly," Luke sits back on the couch, pulls me onto his lap, and kisses my lips.

It's a calm kiss, but so tender that I close my eyes.

"So, who's the pervert now?"

When the kiss ends, Luke's voice suddenly sounds in my ear.

He stands up and heads to the bedroom to change his shirt.

Watching his back, I finally understand just how bad a man I've gotten involved with.

The next day is Monday. The withdrawal from the holiday isn't so bad with the boss away. For example, during breaks, I can even sneak in some Netflix series.

Of course, that's only when there aren't any customers around.

After closing a sale and assuring the customer they could pick up the car in a week, I smile as I walk them to the door.

As the automatic doors open, the receptionist rushes over, telling me someone's been waiting for me for a long time.

I ask where, and she says in the VIP lounge.

"He's bought a car from you before and was very satisfied, so he specifically asked for you today." We head back through the automatic doors.

"Thanks, I'll be there now."

My throat is a bit dry from all the talking, but there's no time for water as I push open the VIP lounge door in my high heels.

"Hel—"

I swallow the word "lo" and freeze my smile.

The old customer takes off his sunglasses and stands up from the couch. "Pretending not to know me again?"

I frown, gripping the door handle. "What are you doing here?"

"What else would I do at a dealership? Buy a car, of course," Dmitri steps closer.

I swallow. "You bought a car less than a month ago."

"Yeah, I have too much money and nowhere to spend it, so I figured I'd buy a few more."

I grit my teeth and force a smile. "Then, please follow me."

I lead Dmitri to the most expensive sports car in the store. "How about this one?"

Dmitri puts his hands in his pockets, looking around casually. "so so."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "If you think the price is still too low, we can offer personalized customization services. For example, we can change the color to something more luxurious or add some designs you like to make your car truly unique."

"What else?"

"We can also enhance the interior—things like a fridge, wine cabinet, starlight ceiling, rear-seat entertainment system, and more."

"That sounds nice," Dmitri says, crossing his arms.

I don't want to spend another second with him. "Let me take you back to the VIP lounge. I'll prepare the contract. Please follow me."

I turn around, but Dmitri doesn't follow me.

"Is there something else on your mind, sir?" I ask, turning back.

"No, but can't I get a test drive? I'd like to experience it firsthand."

I smile politely. "Test drives are by appointment only, sorry. It may not be possible today—"

"I'll pay extra," Dmitri interrupts.

All my words get swallowed. Money talks.

Near the dealership, there's a designated test-driving route that includes various road conditions: city streets, highways, and curves to showcase the car's full performance.

I drive at first, with Dmitri in the passenger seat.

As I fasten my seatbelt, I feel nervous. Sitting in this small space with an ex I haven't seen in years, I fumble two or three times before finally getting the buckle into place, all under Dmitri's watchful gaze.

He smirks. "You're nervous, aren't you?"

I don't answer, focusing on the road as I press down on the gas pedal.

Why am I even nervous? My phone has an SOS button. If he tries anything, I'll dial police immediately.

The car hits the main road.

"Sir, let me explain the features of this car—"

Suddenly, a phone rings.

It's Dmitri's. I'm happy for the excuse to stop talking.

Dmitri lazily pulls out his phone, glances at the screen, and hangs up.

Moments later, the phone rings again.

I glance at Dmitri's face out of the corner of my eye. He frowns at the caller ID, finally picking up the call.

Before he can speak, I hear the voice of his assistant loud and clear: "Boss, your ex-wife, Ms. Sophia, can't find you and came to the office."

A shiver runs down my spine, and I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white.

I've met Dmitri's ex-wife before.

"Tell her if she keeps causing trouble, she won't get a single cent," Dmitri says, then ends the call.

The air feels thick with tension.

Dmitri turns to me, a faint smile on his lips. "I told you I was divorced, didn't I? See? I wasn't lying."

"Sir, your personal life has nothing to do with me."

We reach the bottom of a hill, the end of the test drive route. I pull over and open the door, ready to switch seats with Dmitri.

"We'll follow the GPS back. You can get a feel for how the car handles now."

Dmitri sits in the driver's seat, looking at the dashboard. "How do I turn up the heat a bit?" he asks, puzzled.

"The heat—" I reach over to press the button, but he suddenly grabs my wrist.

I snap my head up. "Let me go."

Dmitri holds my wrist tightly. "No."

I take a deep breath and, without hesitation, bite down hard on his hand. I don't hold back, and soon the metallic taste of blood hits my tongue.

Dmitri releases me.

Seizing the moment, I fling the car door open and try to run.

But just as I'm lifting myself off the seat, Dmitri grabs my waist and yanks me back.

His other hand locks the door, and he reaches down beside the seat to press a button. In the next second, the seat reclines, and I find myself lying flat.

At the same time, Dmitri stretches out his long leg, pinning my feet beneath his.

"What are you, a dog?" Dmitri shows me the back of his hand, the bite mark clearly visible.

My heart is pounding. Instinctively, I reach for my pocket to grab my phone and call for help, but my pocket is empty.

During the time when Dmitri pulled me back into the car, my phone had fallen out and is now lying somewhere under the seat.

I take a deep breath and stay silent.

Dmitri leans over me, his frown slowly fading as a smile forms on his lips. "Gemma, you're as stubborn as ever."

He tilts my chin up and kisses me without hesitation.

But it's not just a kiss—his tongue, in a firm yet subtle way, forces my mouth open as he tries to take control.

I press my hands against his chest, attempting to push him away.

To him, my resistance feels more like flirting. With one hand, he pins both of my wrists above my head, while the other starts exploring my body.

"Gemma, I've missed you every second you are gone," he whispers, his voice like a phantom, sending a shiver through me.