C2 CHAPTER 1- Zara’s POV

CHAPTER 1- Zara’s POV

The morning sun spilled through the drapes, rousing me from my slumber. As I stirred, the memories of the previous night with Lucas came flooding back. However, a wave of regret washed over me. I had allowed myself to be carried away by the heat of the moment, and now, in the harsh light of day, the reality of my actions was sinking in.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the gravity of my mistake. I had given myself to Lucas, not just physically, but emotionally as well. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm my racing heart. I wished I could turn back time, erase that fateful night, but life didn't offer such conveniences. Instead, I was left to face the consequences of my actions.

How had I ended up in bed with my famous college batch mate, Lucas Blackwood? Why him? There were countless other men who were more attractive, but why Lucas? Why had I surrendered myself to him?

“Zara Delafontaine! Come here right now!” a voice called out, pulling me from my thoughts.

At the sound of his voice, I was reminded of my reputation as the diligent daughter of a respected school principal and the beautiful granddaughter of our village chief. My family was overprotective, often likening men to bees eager to taste the nectar of my flower. They would do anything to keep them at bay. But in this case, it wasn't the bee that sought the flower, but the flower had gone to the bee. The realization filled me with humiliation!

It was embarrassing to admit that I made the first move to have him! I wanted to blame Antoinette and the alcohol for what happened, but I knew that wouldn't be fair. After all, it was my decision to approach Lucas at the bar. I wasn't forced to talk to him. I was so intoxicated that I had no recollection of what happened after.

Waking up next to Lucas Blackwood was a shock. We were both naked, and the bloodstain on the bedsheet was a stark reminder of what had transpired between us. It was a one-night stand, both of us intoxicated, and it was a terrible way to lose my v-card!

But then, even though I heard my grandfather's voice, I didn't plan on going downstairs. Instead, I moved to the window, pulling back the drapes to see what was happening outside. As I lost myself in my thoughts, a black car pulled up. I furrowed my brows in confusion until recognition dawned on me. It was Lucas's car.

What was he doing in my house?

Panic surged through me at the thought of my grandfather opening the door to find Lucas. I rushed downstairs, my heart pounding as I saw him standing in our home. His expression was unreadable, but I could sense a storm brewing behind his eyes. Initially, I had hoped he was here to court me, but the anger and frustration in his gaze told a different story. I glanced at my grandfather, who was seated nearby, and asked if I could speak with Lucas privately. He gave a nod of approval, and I led Lucas to the patio in the middle of our garden.

“Finally, you're awake!” Lucas said, his voice carrying an edge of menace.

“Good morning, Lucas!” I replied, trying to keep my tone light.

“Good morning?! Zara, do you even realize what happened last night? How could you just give yourself to me after getting drunk? This is unacceptable!” he exclaimed, grabbing my wrist.

“What do you mean, Lucas?” I asked, feigning innocence. I tried to pull away from him, but his grip was firm.

His smirk told me he was well aware of my discomfort. He proceeded to berate me, attacking my upbringing, my womanhood, and even mocking me for sleeping with him.

“Why are you blaming me?” I asked, genuinely confused by his anger.

“Because it's your fault, Zara! If you hadn't challenged me last night, none of this would have happened!” he retorted.

In an instant, Lucas's harsh words left me feeling as fragile as ice under the midday sun. His cruel insults pierced me, leaving me on the verge of tears. I was shattered by the regret of having given my first intimate experience to such a callous man. He must have known he was my first, even in his drunken state, yet he chose to degrade me.

“Lucas, why are you acting this way?” I pleaded, “If you regret last night, you didn't have to come here.”

“Damn you, Zara!” he spat out with venom, his words laced with fury.

His harsh words forced me to bite my lip, an attempt to keep it from trembling due to the humiliation. His eyes bore into me, filled with a rage I couldn't understand. I had expected kindness, perhaps an apology, but instead, I was met with anger and scorn. The man I had admired for so long was now a stranger, hurling insults at me as if I were worthless. Lucas Blackwood had the audacity to degrade me after being my first.

“You're just another desperate woman, aren't you? You enjoyed last night, didn't you, Zara?” His voice echoed in the room, filled with contempt.

I shook my head, unable to meet his angry gaze. His insults were too much to bear, his words too harsh.

“Lucas, you were drunk. We were both drunk, and you took advantage of my vulnerability,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. His anger seemed to escalate at my words.

“Enough! Let's forget about last night, alright? Don't even think about crossing me...or I'll make your life a living nightmare, Zara!”

When he tossed a handful of crisp bills at me, my heart shattered. It was one thing to endure his verbal insults, but to have him pay me as if I were a commodity was beyond humiliating. Tears streamed down my face as I stared at the money scattered on the floor.

“I hate you!” I managed to say, my voice choked with emotion. His only response was a smirk.

“I hate you too, Zara! You cornered me into sleeping with you, and that's not fair. Do you know that I'm getting married soon?” he retorted.

He didn't even give me a chance to respond. His fear of his fiancée discovering our indiscretion was palpable. I felt insignificant and pathetic. How could he place all the blame on me? It wasn't me who drove us to my place.

“Stop blaming me, Lucas. If you truly loved your fiancée, you wouldn't have been tempted to sleep with me or anyone else,” I countered, my voice shaking. His eyes narrowed in anger, and I instinctively took a step back, fearing his fury might turn physical.

“Shut up, Zara!” he yelled.

He left just in time, before my grandfather could confront him. As Lucas's car disappeared from view, my knees buckled under the weight of what had just happened. He had been so angry, blaming me for everything that had transpired between us.

I was in a daze, barely registering my grandfather's concerned inquiries. I didn't have the strength to respond. Instead, I retreated to my room, a pattern that would continue for several weeks.

My days became monotonous - home to office, office to home, and nothing in between. It was dull, but I didn't care. Antoinette would occasionally suggest going out, but I couldn't bear to be reminded of that night.

Then, the day I had been dreading arrived. The signs were there - the nausea, the fatigue. I confirmed my suspicions with a pregnancy test. I was pregnant with his baby!

I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. My mom had raised me alone, and the thought of disappointing her by becoming a single mother myself was unbearable. I tried to keep it a secret, but somehow, my grandfather found out. The ticking time bomb finally exploded, and my mother nearly collapsed when my grandfather's fury threatened to turn violent.

“Dad, stop it!” Mom pleaded, trying to calm him down. But he was relentless. He turned his disappointed gaze on me, his gray eyes filled with regret.

“Anna, what happened to your daughter? Didn't you raise her right? Why is history repeating itself?” he demanded, his voice filled with anger.

“Dad, please, that was in the past. Let's not dwell on it,” Mom pleaded, trying to steer the conversation away from old wounds.

“And you, Zara! You never even met your father because he abandoned my daughter, and now you're making the same mistakes! Was it too much to ask for you to be careful?” Grandpa's words were like a punch to the gut.

His words echoed the cruel insults Lucas Blackwood had hurled at me. The pain of being used and degraded resurfaced, and I felt a lump forming in my throat.

“I'm sorry,” was all I could manage to say.

“Sorry? Is that supposed to make everything better? I raised you to learn from your mother's mistakes, Zara! Tell me who he is! He has to take responsibility!”