Panting, soaked in rain, barefooted. The police couldn't help but pity you in your current situation when you came inside their station. You just escaped hell, you just escaped that wicked man. When you told the police everything, they all exchanged glances before walking away from you to make sure that you won't hear any of their conversation.

"What are we going to do? Him and his agency already paid us. We can't do anything to help this man." one police whispered but upon saying those words, the door of the room opened, revealing a familiar figure to you making your heartbeat quickened.

"I'm sorry, officers. My boyfriend is just drunk," the man said with his signature soft spoken voice,

"Let's go, ma petite poupée" he added before grabbing your arm gently and led you inside his car.

"What makes you think that you can escape me, huh, mister reporter?" Dranzein said, his voice low and he had a wicked smirk as he brushed a few strands of your hair from your face.