His Possession To Claim

*Knock, knock, knock*

A loud, insistent banging jolted Aria awake. Her eyelids felt heavy, her body stiff and sore. She stretched, wincing as the events of the previous day came rushing back. A stranger. In her home.

With a start, she darted to the kitchen counter, where he lay. She quickly checked his pulse and sighed in relief at the steady rhythm beneath her fingertips. His breathing was stronger now.

She didn't pull away immediately. Her gaze lingered on his face. Somehow, even battered and unconscious, he managed to look captivating. She'd been so overwhelmed yesterday, she forgot just how striking his features were.

Unable to help herself, she reached out. His skin was smooth, softer than she'd remember, with faint facial hair around his mustache. Her fingers traced upward, taking in his long lashes that fluttered, framing his closed eyes, and then down to his nose—a perfect, sculpted feature that gave his face balance. She followed the line of his jaw, almost reaching his lips when—

Bang!

Another knock, harder and louder this time, startled her so badly she stumbled back. She glared at the door. If only she'd fixed her broken doorbell! These aggressive knocks were giving her the chills.

"Who is it?" she called, her voice shaky but loud enough to carry.

"We're the police," came the firm reply.

Her heart nearly stopped. The blood drained from her face as her eyes widened. Police? At her door? Why? Has someone reported her? But who?

"Ma'am, open the door, or we'll break it down," the voice demanded again, no trace of patience left.

She looked down at herself and winced. Her clothes were wrinkled and stained, her hair a tangled mess. She was in no state to face anyone.

"Just a moment!" she shouted back. "I'm… uh… I'm not dressed. Give me a second."

As she scrambled to pull herself together, she muttered a quick, guilty prayer. "Lord, forgive me for lying."

For reasons she couldn't quite understand, she no longer wanted anyone to know about the man in her apartment. She'd been ready to turn him in yesterday, but now? Something told her to protect him. Maybe he really was in danger.

She yanked off her clothes and threw on the nearest clean dress, doused the room with air freshener to mask the lingering scent of blood, and splashed water on her face. With a final glance at the mirror, she bolted to the door, locking it behind her as quickly as possible.

She stepped outside and faced the officers, her face set in an expression of groggy confusion. "Good morning, officers. How can I help you?" Her voice was intentionally sluggish, like someone barely awake.

"Good morning, ma'am," one officer said. "Earlier today, a Mr. Han reported his vehicle stolen. Do you know him?"

Her stomach dropped. Her heart pounded in her chest as her lips parted in surprise. Mr. Han?

"Y-yes… I know him," she stammered. "Is there… a problem?"

The officer gave her a long, assessing look before continuing. "We traced the vehicle to this building, and our records show you're the only student who lives here and was part of the tourist group on his farm this week. Is that correct?"

Aria swallowed hard, unable to form a response.

"Please come with us to the station to clarify the matter," the officer said.

Realizing resistance would only complicate things, she nodded meekly and followed them. As they led her away, she glanced over her shoulder at her locked door. She could only hope the man would recover while she was gone.

...

At the station, Aria sat in a cold, sterile room across from the DPO and the chief investigator. Their sharp gazes pinned her in place.

"So, why did you take the car?" the investigator asked bluntly.

She shifted nervously under their gazes. "Good morning," she began awkwardly, stalling for time. "I… uh… it's a long story, but I'll explain as best as I can."

Taking a deep breath, she launched into her explanation. "I was asked to grab a teacher's tent from the cottage near the stables. When I got there, I realized it was a setup—five men were waiting to kill me. I barely managed to escape, but by the time I got away, my classmates were gone. Mr. Han's truck was the only vehicle outside. I borrowed it to get away. The rain was heavy, and my phone had no signal. I had no other choice. I was going to return it as soon as I could."

She carefully omitted any mention of the injured man.

The investigator leaned back, unconvinced. "We found traces of blood in the vehicle. Care to explain that?"

Her breath hitched. The car! How could she have forgotten? She had been too immersed with the man in her apartment, she had forgotten about the possibility of the car giving them out.

She forced herself to stay calm. "I… I fell into some thorn bushes while those men were chasing me. I was pretty badly scratched up, and I only managed to tend to the wounds once I got back," she said, holding out her bandaged arms as proof.

The investigator motioned for a doctor to inspect her injuries. The doctor scrutinized the bandages closely before nodding. "These are consistent with thorn scratches," he confirmed.

Relieved, Aria let out a small breath. But before she could relax, the chief investigator's phone buzzed. He answered, his expression growing darker with each passing second.

When he ended the call, he turned back to her, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "That's not all we found," he said, his tone ominous.

Aria's heart raced as dread settled deep in her chest. What now?