Chapter 3 Eviction

Ryan was just reaching out to Dayna when Jon swooped in, pulling her away with an ease that startled everyone.

"Wow! That's a bit forward, don't you think? Would your fiancee approve?" Ryan raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with a hint of challenge.

Jon, cool as ever, shot back without missing a beat, "Why don't you ask her yourself?" With that, he whisked Dayna out of the bar.

Outside, Jon didn't pause. He opened the backseat door of his car and pushed Dayna in a bit too roughly before settling next to her.

The sharp, familiar scent of his cologne invaded the space, prompting Dayna to scoot toward the window, putting distance between them.

Breaking the tense silence, Dayna ventured, "So, the date didn't pan out?"

She had gone to great lengths to set up the evening for Jon and Madison, even reserving a hotel room, never expecting it to end so abruptly.

Jon's response was sharp as he grasped her chin, turning her face towards his. "What? Did I spoil your carefully laid plans of meeting new guys?"

Dayna, taken aback by his accusatory tone, scrambled for words. "It was purely coincidental. Wouford is just too small for-"

Her explanation was cut short as Jon's lips claimed hers, his kiss forceful, tinged with an edge of anger.

Dayna, sensing the shift in his demeanor, pushed him back firmly. "Mr. Matthews!" she protested, breaking away from his advance.

Jon's frown deepened at her resistance-Dayna seldom opposed him so directly, and it irked him.

"You have a fiancee now. This should end," Dayna stated decisively, her voice firm, reflecting her resolve. She had mulled over this decision for days.

"Say that again," Jon demanded, his voice low.

Dayna faced him squarely, her expression resolute. "Mr. Matthews, you can't possibly believe that I would continue this arrangement even after you're married. I need to think about my own future while I still can."

Her tone was detached, as if their past had been nothing more than a transaction devoid of emotion.

Jon's gaze lingered on her lips. "So, you're really aiming to be with Ryan?"

"Yes," Dayna confirmed bluntly, her admission stark.

Jon's accusation followed, bitter and cynical. "Then you're making a mistake. He's always interested in what's mine. And he wants you only because you've been with me."

Dayna's reply was calculated, playing the role he expected of her. "What does it matter? I haven't experienced his kind before, and he could be just as lucrative."

"His kind? You're really brave to say that," Jon remarked, his tone laced with an ominous chill that belied the casual words.

Dayna, seemingly oblivious to the threat veiled in his voice, responded with calculated coolness, "Don't worry, Mr. Matthews. I'll keep our personal and professional lives separate." She reached for the car door, seeking escape, but Jon locked it with a decisive click.

Before she could protest, Jon's strong hands pinned her down, his actions swift and unsettling. As his hands ventured under her clothes, his voice was sharp. "You think you can decide when this ends? Did you ever think to ask me? Since when do you make the rules?"

"Jon Matthews, don't be a jerk!" Dayna's use of his full name carried a severity she'd never employed before.

Jon disregarded her protests, his fingers cruel as they intruded under her skirt, his fingers inching towards her underwear.

Dayna suppressed a cry of pain, biting her lip as he unfastened his belt and claimed her with a force that shook the confines of the car.

The next morning, Dayna awoke in her own bed, the room flooded with daylight and eerily silent. The other side of the bed was empty as always.

Outside her door, the sounds of intrusion snapped her back to reality. Opening the door, Dayna found Rhonda leading a posse into her home.

"Rhonda?" Dayna queried, pulling her thin robe tighter around her camisole-clad body, trying to cover the visible marks on her neck.

Ignoring Dayna's attempt to retreat, Rhonda blocked her path. "Miss Allen, I apologize for the intrusion." At her nod, her accomplices began hastily packing Dayna's belongings into suitcases, eventually tossing both the luggage and Dayna herself outside.

The chill of early March bit into her skin, the cold stark against her scant attire. But Rhonda was unmoved by Dayna's shivering form as she directed the changing of the locks right in front of her.

"Mrs. Matthews thought highly of you, believed you had the sense to avoid this end. Clearly, she was wrong. Now, I must handle this," Rhonda declared, her words as cold as the air that enveloped them.

Rhonda issued her instructions with a clinical detachment, her expression void of sympathy. Dayna stood silently, knowing well that any attempt to argue would be in vain.

"Mrs. Matthews mentioned that if you remain cooperative, she will continue to cover your mother's medical expenses. After all, you and Mr. Matthews indeed have a long history together," Rhonda added with a tone dripping with condescension, echoing Helena's own disdain before she departed.

The loss of her father and her mother's chronic illness had hardened Dayna, or so she thought. Yet, the recent upheavals, culminating in her eviction, brought an unexpected tear to her eye.

In the end, she reached out to her closest friend, Caroline Hudson, for support, who found Dayna shivering outside in her scant robe when she arrived.

"It's a good thing this is a private entry, or the whole world might have seen this debacle," Dayna attempted to joke, masking her turmoil which Caroline saw right through.

Wordlessly, Caroline draped her coat around Dayna, her eyes clouded with worry.

"How can I get in touch with Jon Matthews?" she demanded, her voice thick with anger, ready to confront him on Dayna's behalf.

"Please, let's just leave some pride intact," Dayna implored, stopping Caroline in her tracks.

Understanding Dayna's situation, Caroline sighed deeply, feeling a profound sadness for her friend. She knew that causing a scene would change nothing. Reluctantly, she helped Dayna gather her belongings. "Come on; let's get out of here."

Dayna took refuge at Caroline's apartment, her thoughts consumed with worry for her mother. She soon headed to the hospital, only to find her mother's room disturbingly empty, her personal effects missing.

Frantic, Dayna grabbed a passing nurse. "Where's my mom?"

"The patient, Susan Allen? She was discharged earlier," the nurse replied nonchalantly.

"Who exactly took her?" Dayna pressed, her heart racing with fear.

"Just someone with the last name Matthews," the nurse replied, oblivious to the gravity of her words to Dayna.