The Cherished Wife

Noelle bolted from the hotel, her previously defiant face now streaked with tears.
Out of nowhere, a black Cayenne screeched to a halt, its tires screaming against the pavement. Caught off guard, she tumbled
to the ground.
The driver gulped, his eyes darting to the man in the back seat, "Sir... Sir?"
The man in the back, unfazed by the nearby accident, merely glanced at the passenger seat beside him. "Ronald, go see what
happened."
"Right away, sir." Ronald was out of the car in a flash, checking the front for any damage.
About six feet ahead of the car, a woman sat on the ground with her eyes wide open, looking totally freaked out. Her cheeks
were streaked with tears, and she had obviously been crying. "Miss? Are you okay? Do you need a ride to the hospital?"
Noelle was scared out of her wits. She just gazed at Ronald, lost in shock, until she finally managed to pull herself together and
stand up. Without a word, she tried to sidestep him, eager to get away.
Ronald was puzzled by her reaction. "Are you sure you're alright? Do you need any..."
"I... I'm fine, really, I'm okay." Noelle's eyes darted to the black Cayenne. She could not shake off the feeling that someone was
watching her, and it sent shivers down her spine. She scowled, hating the feeling, and hobbled away as fast as she could.
Ronald watched her go, confused. He wanted to stop her, but she was dodging him like he was bad news, leaving him
speechless.
Back in the car, Ronald noticed the man in the backseat craning his neck to watch the woman through the window. "Sir, we're at
the hotel. Do you want to head straight in, or would you like to get out here?"
The man, Charles Hoffman, did not say a word, and Ronald did not dare to make a move.
Watching the petite figure disappear into the distance, Charles let out a slight smirk and tapped his finger against his knee in a
steady beat. "Let's head back!"
Ronald was taken aback. "But sir, isn't today..."
Before he could finish, Charles cut him off with a piercing look. "The show's over. There's nothing left to see," Charles said, his
words heavy with implication. "Ronald, you seem to be losing your touch."

The Majestic Lounge was Brookville's hotspot, its lights blazing and music pumping every night. Noelle's friend, Rowena Smith,
always said it was the prime spot for a wild time after dark.
Noelle was not one for these scenes, but tonight, she was hunched over the bar, downing drinks as if there was no tomorrow.
She peered at the sea of unfamiliar faces swirling around her through half-closed eyes.
"Hey there. Did you come here alone?"
A hand clamped onto Noelle's shoulder, the stranger's touch lingering a bit too long. Noelle jerked away, revulsion coursing
through her. "Back off."
The guy shot a knowing look at his buddy and smirked at Noelle. "Feisty, aren't you? Back off? Ladies like you just play hard to
get, secretly hoping for some attention."
He moved in as if to plant a kiss on her, but Noelle shoved him back and stood up, her stance unsteady and her heart racing.
She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. "I said back off! Is that so hard to understand?"
She stumbled, nearly toppling over, but the man caught her, his arm snaking around her waist. "See, you’re saying no, but your
body's telling a different story."