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His Dangerous Touch  Novel Cover

His Dangerous Touch

Hardened by years of domestic abuse, Aurora Andrews seeks safety in the shadows. When college bullies push her to the edge, the powerful CEO Alexander Mark intervenes. Their fateful encounter leads to an accidental night of passion, but Alexander dismisses her as a gold digger. Pregnant and alone, Aurora flees to protect her child. As her cruel relatives close in and Alexander reappears, she must hide the truth from the man who once branded her a whore.
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Chapter 1

The stale air of the small storage closet smelled faintly of dust and old floor wax, but to me, it was the scent of survival.

I sat on the cold concrete steps just outside the door, my knees pulled up to my chest in a futile attempt to conserve warmth. In my hand, I held a solitary slice of bread. It wasn't the fluffy, fresh kind that the other students bought from the cafeteria; the crust was hard, and the center was beginning to dry out, the expiration date stamped on the plastic wrapper dangerously close to the current date.

I took a small, tentative bite, chewing slowly to trick my stomach into feeling full. It was a meager meal, but every penny I saved was a penny that could go toward the life growing inside me.

"Aurora," a voice cut through the silence, heavy with concern. "Didn't the school pay you the monthly allowance? Then why are you eating this nearly expired bread that was kept to be thrown out?"

I looked up to see Mom Amanda approaching. She wasn't my biological mother, of course, but in the years since I had enrolled at St. Jude's College, she had become the closest thing to family I had. She worked as the head custodian, a woman with a kind face weathered by years of hard labor and a heart that seemed too big for her frail frame.

She was holding a large trash bag, having just finished sweeping the main school compound, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me.

I offered her a weak smile, trying to hide the gnawing hunger that constantly plagued me. "Mom Amanda, you see, after the baby is born, things are going to get expensive. Diapers, formula, clothes... the costs are endless. I'm trying to save whatever I can right now. Besides," I looked down at the bread, "it still looks fresh enough, and it'll fill my stomach for now."

I finished speaking, keeping the smile plastered on my face, but I could see right away that she wasn't buying it.

She called my name, her tone dropping from gentle to deadly serious. "Aurora."

"I flinched at the sound."

"It's not about you or the bread," she said, setting down the trash bag and sitting down heavily beside me on the stairs. The concrete groaned under our combined weight.

"It's about the unborn baby. I don't want you to let any harm come to your child. You need nutrition, not... this." She gestured disdainfully at the bread in my hand.

I sighed, the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. I reached out and patted her hand, which was rough and calloused. "You don't have to worry about the baby that much. The baby will be in good health, I promise you. I'm being careful."

I hesitated for a moment, looking into her eyes, which were filled with a maternal worry I hadn't known since I was a little child.

"And besides, thank you for everything you have done for me. If it wasn't for you pleading with the school administration on my behalf, I wouldn't be able to take this break from my studies to work here. I have a roof over my head and a job, all thanks to you, Mom Amanda."

She shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I did what anyone would do. But look at how hard you're working, Aurora. You're running yourself into the ground." She paused, glancing around to ensure no one else was listening before lowering her voice.

"What about the baby's father? Surely he should be helping you?"

The question hung in the air like a toxic cloud. I went silent, my throat tightening. I didn't know what to say to her. What could I tell her?

Where is the baby's father? I asked myself for the thousandth time. The question echoed in my mind, bouncing off the walls of my memory, but there was never a proper answer.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, a different voice sliced through the air, mocking, and dripping with venom.

"How would she know who the baby's father is?"

"I froze."

I slowly raised my head, my heart sinking into my stomach. I knew Mom Amanda would never say something so cruel, and I was right.

Standing a few feet away, blocking the path to the main building, was Allysia. She was flanked by her two loyal shadows, Sereia and Dominic.

Allysia was the beautiful that drew you in only to repel you once you got close enough to see the rot underneath. Her uniform was immaculate, her hair styled to perfection, and her eyes held a malicious glint that promised suffering. She wasn't just a student here;

She was royalty.

Her father is the Principal of St. Jude's, a fact she wielded like a weapon. In this school, her word was law. She could do anything she wanted without anyone stepping in her way, and the rest of the student body had to obey her commands or face the consequences.

Sereia and Dominic stood slightly behind her, wearing matching sneers. They were selfish, cruel individuals just like her, lacking a spine of their own and attaching themselves to Allysia for the power she provided. They were her attack dogs, her puppets, ready to do her bidding without question.

Allysia took a step closer, her eyes locked onto the bread in my hand with exaggerated disgust. "She doesn't even know which guy she slept with," she continued, her voice loud enough for any passing students to hear. "It's pathetic, really."

I felt a flush of humiliation burn my cheeks, but I refused to let them see me break. Without uttering a single word to her, I turned my attention back to my bread and took another bite. I was used to them mocking me. I was used to the taunts, the whispers, and the judgment. I didn't care about it anymore, or at least, that's what I told myself.

"I had to be strong."

But my indifference only fueled Allysia's rage. She hated that she couldn't break me, that I wouldn't cower and cry like the others. Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure fury.

"Sereia," she snapped.

Sereia nodded immediately, stepping forward like a puppet whose strings had been pulled.

"Yes, Aly?"

"Take the bread from her."

Sereia moved quickly. Before I could react or pull my hand away, she snatched the bread from my grip. I watched, helpless, as Allysia took it from her friend. She looked at the slice of bread, then at me, and then, with a laugh that sent chills down my spine, she threw it onto the dusty ground.

I instinctively moved to pick it up, it was precious to me. But Allysia was faster. She lifted her foot, clad in an expensive designer shoe, and smashed it into the bread, grinding it into the dirt until it was nothing but a crumbled, inedible mess.

"Hey, bitch," she said, leaning down so her face was inches from mine. "You know you are hard to find. We've been looking everywhere for you."

I stayed silent, my hands balling into fists in my lap.

"Today, the school is expecting some very important visitors," Allysia continued, her voice taking on a tone of mock importance. "The principal specifically instructed that we keep the campus clean. Immaculate. And wouldn't you know it, we almost forgot to take out this piece of trash."

She pointed a manicured finger directly at my chest.

"Take her away," she commanded, turning on her heel without a second glance. "And make sure she isn't seen by the guests."

Before I could even stand up, rough hands grabbed me. Dominic and Sereia each seized an arm, hauling me up from the stairs. They didn't care about the stage I was in; they didn't care that I was pregnant. Their grip was tight, bruising, and unforgiving.

"Wait! Stop!" Mom Amanda screamed, jumping to her feet. She rushed toward us, her eyes wide with terror.

"Where are you taking her? Can't you see she's pregnant? Please, don't do this!"

She tried to grab my arm, to pull me back to safety, but Dominic shoved her hard. She stumbled backward, falling onto the concrete with a grunt of pain.

"Get lost, old woman," Dominic spat, glaring down at her. "This doesn't concern you."

"Mom Amanda!" I cried out, struggling against their hold, but they were too strong.

They dragged me across the school yard, toward the old storage building of the campus. It was a dilapidated structure rarely used by anyone. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum. I knew what was coming. I knew there would be no witnesses.

Allysia was already waiting at the door of the storage room, tapping her foot impatiently. When she saw us approaching, a cruel smile curled her lips. She opened the heavy wooden door and stepped aside.

They didn't let me walk in gently. With a synchronized heave, Dominic and Sereia shoved me forward. I stumbled, my balance thrown off by the weight of my belly and the sudden violence of the push. I tried to catch myself, reaching out for the wall, but my fingers grazed only rough brick before gravity took over.

I fell hard, the impact jarring my entire body. But the worst of it was the way my stomach collided with the edge of a heavy, metal chair that had been left in the middle of the room. A sharp, blinding pain exploded in my abdomen, stealing the breath from my lungs so violently that I couldn't even scream.

I crumpled to the dirty floor, curling into a protective ball around my midsection, gasping for air that wouldn't come.

Through the haze of agony, I heard the door slam shut. The heavy latch clicked into place, sealing us in.

They stood over me, Allysia, Sereia, and Dominic, looking down as if I were a bug they had just stepped on.

"To avoid tarnishing the school image," Allysia began, her voice echoing slightly in the hollow room. She walked around me slowly, her shoe clicking on the concrete.

"You, who got pregnant before marriage and don't even know who the father is... You are a total disgrace. A piece of trash."

She stopped in front of my face, leaning down until I could smell her expensive perfume, a stark contrast to the moldy smell of the storage room.

"Why don't you just stay in the storeroom?" she suggested, her tone sickeningly sweet. "It's where trash belongs, after all. Maybe if you stay hidden, the VIPs won't smell the stench of your failure."

I couldn't plead with her.

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