The moment Lina sank into the plush leather seat of Daniel Viggo's car, she couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief. Her legs had been killing her—every step in those goddamn heels had felt like punishment. But now? Now she was off her feet, and it was like a fucking miracle.
"Thank you," she murmured, barely above a whisper.
He said nothing.
Not even a nod. Of course.
She pressed her lips together, feeling kind of dumb for expecting a response in the first place. Still, despite the emotional whiplash that man carried around like cologne, she silently sent a prayer for him in her heart. He didn't have to stop. But he did. Whatever the reason, it had saved her aching feet, and that was enough.
Her gaze shifted to the darkened streets outside as the car slid down the estate road with quiet power. The engine purred, barely audible over the hum of luxury. It still threw her off that he was the one driving. Most of the higher-ups had long cleared out. These types of men didn't linger. They didn't wait around. So what the actual fuck was Daniel still doing here?
She glanced sideways, stealing a look at him.
Unbothered. Focused. That same blank expression like he'd been carved from marble. Whatever was going on in his head, she had zero hope of figuring it out. And really? She wasn't about to waste her few functioning brain cells trying.
He was Daniel Viggo, after all. Expecting him to act normal was like expecting a shark to go vegan.
So instead of dwelling on things that would only give her a headache, Lina allowed herself to take in the car's interior.
And holy Fuck.
It was the kind of interior you only saw in glossy magazines or in rich kids' "day in the life" TikToks. The leather was stupidly soft, the kind that probably came from cows that got daily massages. The stitching was precise. The dashboard looked like something out of a spaceship. Even the air inside the car felt expensive. Like her lungs were suddenly too broke to inhale it.
She shifted, awkward now. She didn't belong here. Like even her breathing was disrespectful in here.
The weight of her own body felt like too much, like she might accidentally ruin the damn chair just by sitting on it. What if she left a crease? Or, God forbid, a stain? She had come from a middle-class family. This kind of car? It was the type she only ever saw in YouTube videos or flashy ads, driven by men who didn't even bat an eye when dropping millions on a fucking vehicle.
A small pang of sadness hit her. Not because she was jealous, but because she knew how far she was from this world. She had worked hard to get here—to be in places where people like Daniel Viggo even acknowledged her existence—but she still had a long fucking way to go.
But one day…
One fucking day, she'd make it.
She let out a quiet sigh, pushing the thoughts aside. She needed to focus.
Lina leaned back, letting her eyes close for a second—until Daniel spoke.
Or… did he?
She blinked, frowning. She had no idea what he just said. She'd been so deep in her own mental spiral that his words had gone in one ear and out through a window she didn't even know was open.
Daniel frowned, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel, but instead of repeating himself,he did something much worse—he tapped the fucking brakes.
It wasn't harsh, but it was enough to make her jolt forward slightly, her heart nearly jumping out of her goddamn chest.
"What the fuck?" she gasped, her hand flying to the door handle for balance.
Daniel didn't even look at her.
"Get down," he said, voice like ice.
Lina blinked. "What?"
His grip on the wheel tightened slightly, his jaw clenching for a brief second before he turned his head to her. This time, his gaze was colder.
"I said—get down."
Lina's brows furrowed, her mind struggling to keep up. The car had come to a stop, but—what the hell?
She turned her head, looking outside.
They were no longer in the quiet estate zone. Now, they sat on the edge of a main road—busy, noisy, alive. Cars zipped past.Pedestrians moved along the sidewalks, lost in their own worlds. It wasn't exactly unsafe, but it sure as hell wasn't anywhere near her home.
Okay, what the actual fuck?
She turned back to him, eyebrows pulling together. "I haven't reached my place yet."
Daniel raised one brow. No emotion. No sympathy.
"And?"
Lina hesitated. "And… I mean, if you were gonna help, shouldn't you at least finish helping?"
For the first time, something flickered across his face. Not a smile. More like a smirk that never made it to his mouth. That subtle look of Are you seriously this naïve?
"You expect me to take you home?" he asked, like the concept personally offended him.
Lina nodded. "I mean… yeah? Isn't that the whole point of—"
"Get down."
His voice was sharper this time. Annoyed.
Lina stiffened slightly, realizing too late that she had probably pushed her luck. But what the fuck? She wasn't asking for much. If he was gonna help, why the hell would he stop in the middle of nowhere?
She looked outside again. Sure, it wasn't a sketchy neighborhood or anything—but she also didn't live anywhere near here. Her feet still ached. Her battery was probably dead now. And this man, this unbothered millionaire in the driver's seat, was acting like dropping her on the side of the road was a normal Tuesday activity.