His Untamed Rose novel Chapter 119

When it was finally Lumina’s turn in line, the customs officer stared at her for a long moment before flipping open her passport to take another look.

He questioned her about the reason for her visit and her address in the country, and Lumina answered each query calmly and thoroughly.

But instead of handing her passport back, the man picked up the phone and made a call. Afterward, he gestured for Lumina to follow, his voice clipped and precise in a crisp British accent. “Come with me.”

His eyes were cold and devoid of emotion.

A chill ran through Lumina.

She instantly sensed something was wrong. Without thinking, she spun around and bolted.

But this was the customs checkpoint of a tightly guarded nation, and security officers—tall, broad-shouldered men—were everywhere.

Lumina barely made it a few meters before she was surrounded by a group of blue-eyed officials. They seized her by the arms and dragged her, struggling, into a small, windowless interrogation room.

She sat there, nerves fraying, for nearly twenty minutes before the door swung open again.

The same Black customs officer entered, but this time, Lumina noticed an Asian woman trailing behind him.

The man leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, nodding toward Lumina as he asked the woman, “Is this the person you were looking for?”

The woman, likely from the Zhinora embassy, lifted her phone and quickly snapped several photos of Lumina’s face.

After sending them to someone, she smiled. “Yes, that’s her.”

The man nodded, shot Lumina a final, icy glare, then left the room.

Lumina slumped, feeling utterly powerless, like a helpless animal laid out on a butcher’s block.

The woman let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t look so defeated, Ms. Jardin. Did you really think it would be any better here than back home? It’s not. Back there, you had protection, a comfortable life—something many immigrants only dream of. If it weren’t for hardship, who would willingly travel so far from home? My advice: appreciate what you have.”

Seeing that Lumina wasn’t making a scene—no tears, no protests—the woman’s tone softened. She poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of her. “Ms. Jardin, have something to drink and wait. The people from Banyan Town will be here soon. Their flight lands in an hour.”

Lumina struggled to breathe.

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