THE ART OF PERSUASION

Clarissa Jones was not the type to have emergencies. That  would signify chaos. Clarissa Jones prided herself on control—the kind she’d mastered one fateful night when her jealous over nothing ex had ditched her alone and terrified at  a weekend festival.

 Now she runs Concert Companions, her own business ensuring women get home safely after nights out. Soon, they’d launch a women-driven taxi service. Everything was organized, efficient, and precise.

Which was why this unplanned trip to the dentist’s office was pissing Clarissa off.

She told herself it would have been easier  to  continue to ignore the toothache, but her PA, Caroline, persuaded her to use the number scrawled on the neon yellow Post It Note, swearing this dentist used some revolutionary gas instead of needles.

Clarissa tapped her fingers impatiently as Caroline’s voice crackled through her phone.

“ Give me some good news. Did you deal with the Debra situation?”

Caroline sighed. “Still trying. This one is proving rather….difficult.”

“They’re all  rather difficult.”

Debras. A modern archetype: young, entitled TikTok wannabes who thought professionalism was optional as long as they could cultivate a personal brand.

“This Debra’s worse than usual,” Caroline admitted. “She tried to convince one of the Deeply Deli Lush drivers to film a sex tape in the break room.”

Clarissa nearly choked. “She did what now?”

“Something about ‘creating buzz.’”

Clarissa pressed a hand to her temple. “Did she manage to create this…. buzz?”

“Of course not! I stopped it but she wasn't happy about it. Kept saying her dad could ‘fix anything.’”

“Typical.” Clarissa exhaled sharply. “Give her two choices: quit quietly or I send a report—and the footage—to her father.”

“Bold move. Are you sure? He's a lawyer.” Caroline ground her teeth nervously. The last thing they needed was an irate father with legal clout.

“He won’t let his reputation get dragged through the mud because his daughter wants to be the next Kim Kardashian. Then call  Martindale Academy—their sixth formers did great at our last event.”

“You just want someone younger than Debra in the office.”

Clarissa smirked. “Younger, prettier and  won't try to  make goddamn soft porn in my place of business.”

The receptionist cleared her throat. “Miss Jones?”

Clarissa gave a tight smile and ended the call before following an assistant down the hall.

“Right in here,” The assistant with the high ponytail chirped high on caffeine and cigarettes. “I’m Louise by the way!”

Clarissa stepped into the exam room—and froze.

A painting hung on the far wall. Not the usual beach or flowers, but a battlefield scene. A 19th-century hussar on a rearing horse, his crimson-and-gold uniform vivid against the smoke and blood-soaked mud.

Something about the painting made her uneasy.

Louise followed her gaze. “Oh! The painting. Striking, isn’t it?”

Clarissa narrowed her eyes. “Striking? Bit much for a dentist’s office.”

Louise chuckled nervously. “Yeah, we used to have a meadow, but I saw this and knew we had to put it up. It’s… captivating.”

Clarissa sat in the chair, still staring at the hussar’s piercing gaze. Was the background… moving? Smoke curled unnaturally, the flames flickering like they were alive.

Louise smiled brightly. “Just breathe deeply. The aroma gas will help you relax.”

Clarissa barely heard her. The painting was pulling her in.Then everything went black.

The acrid stench of blood and burning filled Clarissa’s nostrils. She stumbled as her boots sank into mud churned up by hooves and corpses. Her breath came in sharp, panicked bursts.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.And yet—she was here.

A saber hung at her waist, her hands trembling as she reached for it.

Before she could process anything, a soldier lunged at her, his waxy face twisted with hatred.

Clarissa barely had time to react. Her body moved on instinct, yanking the saber free, blocking his strike. The clash of steel rang heavily in her ears.

The soldier staggered. Clarissa didn’t think—she swung. The blade cut deep.

Golden light flickered in his eyes before they went dark.

She staggered backward, her heart hammering.

A shadow loomed over her.

Another soldier lunged—but before she could react, a blur of crimson-and-gold intercepted him.

The hussar from the painting.

He dismounted in one fluid, lethal motion, slashing through the soldier with a merciless precision that left Clarissa stunned.

“You,” he barked, turning on her. “What are you doing here?”

She opened her mouth. “What am I doing here?! What the hell is this?”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He grabbed her arm.

Clarissa stiffened. “Look out—”

A blade flashed. Without thinking, she threw herself forward, knocking the hussar aside and striking first.

The enemy soldier crumpled.

Pain exploded in her side as another blade sliced her arm.

She gasped, falling to her knees.

The hussar reacted instantly, cutting down her attacker before turning back to her. “You saved my life.”

“Yeah,” She panted. “Seemed like a good idea.”

Blood seeped through her sleeve. The hussar grabbed her. “We need to move. Now.”

Clarissa barely remembered getting on the horse.The roar of the battlefield faded as they rode hard into the trees.

The hussar slowed, then dismounted and knelt beside her.

“You’re bleeding,” he muttered, pulling at her jacket. His hands froze as the fabric fell away, revealing her shoulder beneath the torn sleeve.

His eyes darkened in disbelief.

“You’re a woman.”

Clarissa winced. “And you’re observant.”

Silence stretched between them. His gaze lingered.

“You saved my life,” He said softly. “And you’re a woman!”

“Okay we gathered I'm a woman. Do you think you could stop the basic biology and concentrate on not letting me die out here.”

His mouth twitched. “I don’t plan to.”

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through her.

“You’re braver than most of the men I’ve fought with,” He murmured matter of factly.

Clarissa let out a shaky breath. “Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Now you want a bedside manner? Make up your mind woman!”

“Believe me I will” Clarissa cooed seductively 

He reached for her face, his fingers tracing the edge of her jaw.

“You shouldn’t be here,” He whispered.

Clarissa swallowed. “Then Sir, instruct  me  to leave.”

His expression hardened. “Maybe I don’t want  to.”

Before Clarissa could answer, his lips crashed against hers.

Heat flooded her body.And then—numbness.Her limbs turned heavy, sluggish.

The world faded into black.

Fluorescent lights burned into her retinas.

Clarissa’s mouth was wide open, her jaw buzzing with anesthesia.

Louise’s chirpy voice cut through the haze. “All done!”

Clarissa frowned at her. The high ponytail had been replaced with  short bob cut 

Louise smiled oblivious to Clarissa’s inner turmoil. “Your mouth will be numb for at least  four hours. No eating or hot drinks ”

Clarissa blinked. The painting was gone.

In its place: a bright, stock-photo meadow.

Her pulse quickened.

“Battlefield!” She croaked. “Battlefield!”

Louise frowned. “What battlefield? Why would there be a battlefield painting in the dentists?  Maybe I didn't have the gas at the right temperature.”

Clarissa decided they'd and then she wasn’t done with that painting yet.

That night, Clarissa dug deep.

An anonymous forum led her to a single ominous post:

“The paintings aren’t random. They’re placed there for a reason. And the gas makes sure people go along with it.”

Her fingers trembled as she typed:

ClarissaJones: “It happened to me. I need to know what you know.”

A reply came immediately.

Dash81: “What painting did you see?”

Her stomach twisted.

ClarissaJones: “A battlefield.”

Another message.

Dash81: “We need to meet. In person.”

Clarissa arrived early at the bus station just in case it was a “stage exit left” scenario. She stood up to go then she saw him

Dash81 was The hussar but this wasn't possible 

“You,” He whispered, eyes wide. “Saved my life.”

Before she could speak, the café fell silent.

One by one, the patrons turned toward them.Their eyes glowed faintly gold.

Dash’s grip tightened on her wrist.

“Stay calm,” He muttered softly. “We need to leave - now.”