Captivation: Want Nothing But You

Captivation Want Nothing But You Chapter 111 by Adolf Dunne

Stay Awake, Rachel It was hard to believe that such a traumatizing event had happened only an hour ago. And it had all started with a Maybach driving from the airport to the Sullivan Group. Victor was returning home from the Lerestin after dealing with a defect in one of the Sullivan Group’s investment projects.

Ivan was sitting in the passenger seat beside the driver. Every now and then he’d glance at the rearview mirror to look at Victor. The interior of the car was dark, owing to the special film covering the windows. Victor had his head tilted back against the headrest of the seat.

His eyes were closed, and he had one hand resting against his temple. His long, dark eyelashes nearly brushed the ridges of his cheeks, and very nearly blended into the dark rings under his eyes. He was exhausted. These past few days had been tough and he’d barely gotten any sleep. But even in his fatigued state, he still looked classy and well put together. Ivan turned his gaze out the window. They weren’t that far from the Sullivan Group now.

If Ivan was estimating correctly, they were about halfway. The driver slowed and stopped at a red traffic light. From here, Ivan could see crowds milling about in front of them. “What are they doing?” he asked curiously. The driver followed the line of Ivan’s stare. He gave a nod and said, “It’s the opening ceremony for the food festival.

Usually, it’s held in the Western District, but this year it’s being held in the Eastern District.” Ivan knew the food festival was an annual event held in Apliaria. It had been happening for as long as he could remember. But such things didn’t interest him. He wasn’t a foodie, and usually just stayed away from the busy crowds. As he was about to look away, he suddenly saw someone he recognized out the corner of his eye. Ivan’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He blinked, then looked back at the woman. Sure enough, it was Rachel; just as he’d thought. From what he could tell, she was standing on the side of the road talking to someone on the phone. Ivan looked back at Victor and chewed nervously on his lip. He didn’t know if he should wake him and tell him that Rachel was standing right across the street from them.

in a grumbling, sleep-fogged voice. It appeared as if the weight of Ivan’s stare had woken him. “Mr. Sullivan,” Ivan said and then

him almost blankly before he said, “Okay.” As he spoke, a cold look came over his face that suggested he had no interest in what Rachel was doing. Ivan turned around awkwardly and stared out the window again. It had been the wrong decision to say anything. Victor settled back into his seat

crowd. Well, to him anyway. He had to wonder who she was on the phone to. She was smiling so gently and happily. It made her face seem soft, innocent… Different from when she’d been with him. She’d always looked angry and aggressive. The red light flickered off and the green light came on. The driver put the car into gear and started off along the road

horn blared shrilly over the sounds of traffic. Victor turned his attention back out the window, just in time to see Rachel had been swept up by the crowds and was being pushed into on-coming traffic. The warning hoot had come from the

with horror. He whipped around in his seat to look at Victor. “Mr. Sullivan…” But Victor wasn’t there. The backseat was empty. Ivan hadn’t even noticed that he’d got out the car. The sound of squealing brakes brought him back to his senses. He blinked rapidly

stop; right where Rachel had been standing. If Victor had been one second too slow, the truck would have hit her. Ivan threw the car door open and hurried to them. Victor was holding Rachel cradled in his arms, gently brushing her hair out her face, and off the bleeding patch on her

truck?” Victor suddenly asked, pulling himself out the memories of the accident. “Yes. The truck driver’s name is Tripp Miller. He’s a

Bennet,” Ivan said, carefully recounting all the information he’d found out. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before he carefully asked

eyes as his expression darkened. He didn’t look up from Rachel’s passive face. He kept his gaze carefully trained on her ashen features, reliving the feeling of her slowly losing consciousness in his arms. He remembered what the wound on her forehead had looked like before it was patched up:

pale from both pain and shock. As they’d rolled away from the truck, Victor had heard her mutter, “It hurts…” Her blood was striking against his white shirt. Almost accusing in a way. When he realized she was going to faint, he had gripped her face in his hands to force

eyes. He was so terrified that she would never wake up again if she

grip was so great that her delicate white skin