Page 45 of Phantom Flower

“Marco,” I said, my voice hoarse. “What the hell is going on?”

He looked like he was about to cry. He pulled out his phone with trembling fingers and shoved it toward me.

“Just… look.”

I took the phone.

The video was already playing.

It was shot from somewhere in the trees. I saw myself on my knees in the dirt, head tilted back, throat working as someone fucked my mouth. The angle did not show the other person’s face, but it showed me clearly. My hands were gripping their thighs. Saliva was dripping down my chin as I gagged around whatever was in my mouth.

It looked exactly like I was getting my throat fucked.

Because that was what it was supposed to look like.

My stomach turned violently.

I dropped the phone.

It clattered to the floor, but I barely heard it. My chest was tightening so fast I thought my ribs were going to crack. My vision blurred at the edges. I could not get enough air.

“Rei?” Marco’s voice sounded far away. “Rei, hey, breathe. It’s okay, just breathe—”

I could not.

I turned and ran.

I did not know where I was going. I just needed to get away from the stares. My shoulder slammed into someone. I kept running, tears already burning in my eyes.

I turned the corner too fast and collided with something solid.

A chest.

I stumbled back and looked up.

Dimitri.

His dark eyes widened the second he saw my face. I must have looked completely wrecked — teary, shaking, hyperventilating like I was about to pass out.

For one stupid second, all I could think was: Did you do this?

Of course he did.

Who else would have filmed that? Who else would have wanted to humiliate me like this?

My breathing got worse. My hands flew up to my hair on instinct, searching for the flower that was not there anymore. My fingers scraped over empty space again and again like maybe if I just kept looking, it would magically reappear.

It was gone.

“Rei,” he said, grabbing my arm. “Come here.”

I tried to pull away, but he was already steering me around the corner into a quieter hallway where no one was. He pushed me gently against the wall, caging me in with his body so no one could see us.

“Breathe,” he ordered.

I kept gasping, my hands still frantically searching my hair like a madman. My nails scraped against my own scalp. I could not find it. I needed it. I needed something to hold onto. I needed my flower.

“How could you?” I choked out.