You don't know her, drive on and leave her behind

She looks like trouble, and you don't know what she has inside her bag. You're not exactly a popular figure among high society, and your valet had warned you numerous times that you really should watch out for potential kidnappers or assassins.

Oh well, she's got a great ass from where you're sitting, but you can always get women with better figures showing themselves in all kinds of ways whenever you want.

Stepping on the gas, you speed past her, and looking at your rear view mirror you notice that she doesn't even break stride or give notice to your passing.

At least she hasn't pulled out a machine gun out of her bag and shot me, you think to yourself, but then again maybe she only has a pistol and can't make the shot.

But as soon as the girl disappeared from your sight lines, so too did your thoughts of her. Once again you focus on the road and the corners you're attacking with gusto.
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Twenty minutes later, you move past the automated gates and drive up to your front door. Leaving your car outside, you look up to the house you've known all your life, in an odd reflective mood. It was not the largest of mansions, your family was not one to entertain large amounts of guests and didn't need the grand halls or ostentatious front parlors of other family mansions. The first floor had a modest parlor, a small entertainment room filled with the usual electronics, your library where your study is also located, and the kitchen and dining room at the back. The second floor has the servant quarters on it, however having only employed your valet to attend to your house it's mostly empty and what furniture there were are still covered up under sheets.

The third floor is where you sleep, most of the space being for your bedroom. There is also an elevator that could only be entered from that floor, and that is the only access to the basement. Your father wanted it to be his panic room, but once you had control over the house you promptly converted it to your dungeon play room.

It's a lonely home, if you're honest to yourself, and made all the lonelier by having it be on top of a mountain. Nevertheless, it's your own personal fortress of solitude, and you can do whatever you want in it.

Rain starts to fall on your head, and you hurriedly click on your key fob to raise the roof on your convertible as you rush inside the house.

As the night went on the rain did not let up, coming down even harder. You were just finishing dressing for bed when your smartphone buzzed and rang a consistent alert: There was someone buzzing at the front gate.

"Alex", you shout, "get the door!"

Then you recall your valet had left town as well for personal business, leaving you alone.

Great, you grumble, I'll have to check this out myself.

You press the right commands on your phone to pull up the security camera feed, and you recognize the person at the front gate.

Shivering and huddling herself in front of your gate was the girl you passed over earlier. You're staggered that she actually got here, or that she didn't have an umbrella or even a jacket on her. She must be cold as hell.

You know from the weather report that this rain will continue until well after dawn, and there's really nowhere else for the girl to go unless she camps under a random tree and hope the leaves shelter her just enough.