She felt a sudden vibration in her jeans pocket, which turned out to be her mother calling at the worst possible time.

The timing literally couldn't be any worse.

"Hello, dear?" Her mother's calm, warm voice rang out from her cell phone speaker.

Her voice alone instantly put Odette at ease emotionally, but at the same time, it made her want to cry even harder.

Odette quickly cleared her throat and answered, trying to sound normal.

"Yes, Mom, I'm here."

"Honey, how was your day today?"

"It was great, Mom. Uhh... it was freshman activities day and I hung out with my friends afterwards," Odette lied, the words tasting bitter.

Not used to lying directly to her mother, Odette felt a weird, uncomfortable sensation tightening in her chest.

"I just got back to my room."

"Oh, you made friends already? That's wonderful!" her mother said excitedly, clearly thrilled.

"Umm hmmm," Odette hummed weakly in response.

As she made up more lies, Odette felt her own false words made her actual situation feel even more pathetic and lonely. So she could only hum vaguely in response.

But this weak response immediately made her mother suspicious. A maternal instinct is a unique, powerful feeling that can tell a parent when something is wrong with their child.

Even if they were thousands of miles away across an ocean.

"What's wrong with your voice? Are you okay? Did something happen?" she asked with growing suspicion and concern.

"I'm fine, Mom. Just a bit busy right now. I'll call you later, okay? Bye!" Odette sped frantically through her flimsy excuses and quickly ended the call before her mother could ask more questions.

If the call had gone on any longer, she probably would've broken down completely from her mother's gentle questioning.

And ultimately told her everything—which would do nothing but worry her mother sick. And there wasn't much her mother could do from across the Atlantic anyway.

She sat perfectly still and hugged her knees tightly to her chest, making herself small.

People passed by on the sidewalk and glanced at her curiously, but no one said anything or stopped to help.

She looked down at her phone screen.

It was already 7:49 PM. The nearby hotels might be fully booked soon if she didn't hurry up and get moving.

When the screen turned off, her pale, tear-stained face got reflected in the black glass.

Traces of tears were streaked here and there, with her hair completely ruffled and messy from the long day's work.

She was a total mess—a disaster.

'This stupid face of mine,' she thought bitterly as she glared at her own reflection with pure hatred.

'It has done nothing but bring me trouble ever since I can remember.'

She flared her nostrils in anger at herself. Even then, somehow, she still looked adorable in a heartbreaking way.

As she was harshly cursing herself in her dark reflection, a tall figure suddenly appeared looming above her head, blocking out the streetlight.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you a student here?" a deep voice called out from behind her.

Odette quickly turned around, startled, and saw an extremely attractive man slightly bending down to speak to her at eye level.

He wore a perfectly tailored three-piece suit, had a stern but not unkind look on his chiseled face, and sported a clean, sharp French crop haircut.

This level of striking handsomeness was the kind you would only expect to see in TV shows or movies, not in real life.

And the scent that followed as he bent down was phenomenal—a sophisticated masculine fragrance, yet not at all suffocating or overpowering to the nose.

"Uh... yes, yes I am," Odette answered, still sitting pathetically on the ground, looking up at him.

'Who is this guy?'

'Is he the security guard?'

'But why would a security guard be wearing an expensive suit like that?' Odette thought as her eyes traced down his tall body.

She looked back up at his intense eyes, which were staring down at her due to their height difference and positions.

'Still, that is one seriously hot security guard,' she thought despite herself.

"By any chance, are you in need of a place to stay?" the man asked directly, cutting to the point.

"...Yes?" Odette answered reluctantly after a short, suspicious pause.

She'd previously assumed he was a security guard, but now she genuinely didn't know who or what he was.

Was he a pickup artist trying to take advantage of vulnerable girls? Possibly.

But would someone really be hitting on her in her current miserable state, sitting on the ground crying?

As confused thoughts ran rapidly through her exhausted mind, Odette had somehow blurted out confirmation anyway.

"I see," the man stated simply, nodding once.

He straightened up and turned back, looking towards another man in a black suit who seemed to be a bit older than both of them, but not by much.

The other man stood patiently next to a stunning maroon Pagani Huayra, its curves catching the streetlight.

"Lucas, problem solved," the suited man shouted over to him with confidence.

The man standing beside the expensive car—Lucas—could only shake his head slowly in doubt while scratching the back of his neck nervously, clearly not convinced this was a good idea.