The shortcut
Jane Fredrick would later realize that taking the shortcut home was the worst decision of her life.
Everyone in Ashford knew the abandoned road behind the old community school was dangerous after dark. The streetlights barely worked, the bushes had overgrown the cracked pavement, and strange things were always whispered about that place.
But whispers did not pay bills.
Jane adjusted the strap of her worn handbag and quickened her pace, exhaustion dragging heavily through her body. Her shift at the restaurant had ended almost two hours later than usual after one of the waitresses failed to show up. Her feet ached painfully in her cheap black shoes, and her stomach growled from the instant noodles she had eaten that morning.
The cold night air brushed against her skin as she wrapped her thin sweater tighter around herself.
She was exhausted.
And home was still thirty minutes away unless she took the shortcut.
A mistake.
Jane shoved her hands into her pockets and kept walking.
The deeper she entered the lonely path, the quieter the world became. No passing cars. No music from nearby shops. Nothing except the sound of insects hidden inside the bushes and the soft scrape of her shoes against gravel.
Then she saw the lights.
Jane slowed immediately.
Her brows furrowed.
Cars.
Not one.
Not two.
At least six black luxury vehicles were parked near the back field behind the abandoned school .
Her stomach tightened instantly.
Nobody came here.
Especially not rich men with expensive cars.
The engines were still running.
Jane instinctively stepped backwards, ready to leave quietly, but voices drifted through the darkness before she could move.
Male voices.
Serious.
Sharp.
Curiosity pulled at her despite the warning screaming in her head.
She knew she should walk away.
Immediately.
Instead, she crouched carefully behind the broken concrete fence covered in wild vines.
Just one look, she told herself.
One look, and she would leave.
The men stood near the old basketball court.
Some wore dark suits despite the late hour. Others stood like bodyguards, expressionless and armed. The headlights from the vehicles cast dangerous shadows across their faces.
Jane’s breathing became shallow.
These were not ordinary men.
At the centre of them stood one man dressed entirely in black.
Tall.
Still.
Terrifyingly calm.
Even from a distance, his presence silenced everyone around him.
Jane could not fully see his face yet, but she noticed how the others watched him carefully, almost fearfully.
Then, one of the men spoke nervously.
“The senator is becoming difficult to control.”
Jane froze.
Senator?
Another man cursed under his breath.
“He should have kept his mouth shut.”
A third voice answered coldly.
“He had opportunities.”
The air suddenly felt heavier.
Jane pressed herself lower behind the wall.
This was wrong.
Very wrong.
Then she noticed someone else.
A man was kneeling on the ground between them.
His hands were tied.
Blood stained the front of his white shirt.
Jane’s stomach twisted violently.
“Oh God...” she whispered.
The kneeling man looked terrified.
“Please,” he begged shakily. “I swear I never told anyone anything.”
Nobody answered him.
The tall man in black finally stepped forward.
For the first time, Jane saw his face clearly.
Sharp jaw.
Dark eyes.
Cold expression.
There was something dangerously beautiful about him.
Richard Ashford.
The name hit her instantly.
Everybody knew him.
Rich.
Untouchable.
Dangerous.
Rumours followed him everywhere like shadows, but nobody ever dared speak about him loudly.
Jane’s pulse pounded hard against her throat.
Richard crouched slowly in front of the bleeding man.
“You were warned,” he said quietly.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
The kneeling man started crying.
“I have children—”
The gunshot shattered the night, echoing violently through the empty school grounds.
Jane gasped.
Her hand flew over her mouth instantly, but it was too late.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Every head turned toward the bushes.
Toward her.
Fear crashed into Jane so hard her vision blurred.
No.
No no—
One of the guards moved immediately.
“There!”
Jane ran.
Branches scratched against her arms as she stumbled through the darkness, panic exploding inside her chest. Footsteps thundered behind her.
“Stop her!”
Tears burned her eyes.
She should never have looked.
Never.
Her breathing became uneven as she pushed herself harder, but the sound of approaching footsteps only grew closer.
Then suddenly—
A hand grabbed her arm violently.
Jane cried out as she was dragged backwards.
“Please!” she begged breathlessly. “Please, I didn’t see anything—”
The guard tightened his grip painfully and pulled her back toward the field.
Jane’s heart nearly stopped when she saw Richard standing there waiting for her.
Still calm.
It's still expressionless.
His dark eyes settled on her trembling figure slowly.
Jane could barely breathe under that gaze.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then one of the men muttered,
“She saw too much.”
“Get rid of her.”
Jane’s face drained of colour.
“No—please—”
But Richard kept staring at her quietly.
Like he was thinking.
Calculating.
Deciding.
Finally, Richard spoke.
Three words that change everything.
“Bring her to me.”
