"Tie her legs tightly! I don't want any unnecessary drama."
"Boss, she has a sexy figure. After you, can I also get a taste of-" An annoying laugh broke off in the middle of the sentence.
Another voice interrupted instantly, "Get lost, you punk! Before you, we will get the chance to devour her. Right, Boss?"
"Wrong," a heavy, muffled voice answered in a slow tone, "She is mine. Bastards, how dare you drool over my bitch?"
I could feel cold sprinkles of water and a few unfamiliar, distant voices lingering in the air, sounding like an annoying cacophony. It took me a few minutes to open my eyes. I was lying on the huge king-size bed of the VIP room.
A strong, foul smell of tobacco and alcohol wafted into my nostrils.
There were at least five or six guys scattered all over the room with bottles of alcohol, chatting and laughing vulgarly. They were all dressed in the same kind of white coats as if they were wearing uniforms. When my eyes shifted next to me, my blood ran cold with fear and disgust.
The white bedsheet was strewn with delicate rose petals, and my hands and legs were tightly tied to the bed. I was wearing only my red lingerie, almost naked and helpless. An oddly primitive warning sounded in my head.
Sheer, black fright swept through me as I tilted my head to my left side. An old man in his sixties was lying half-naked, wearing only his underwear and sipping raw whiskey. His bald head and fat, wrinkled face shone in the dim yellowish night lamps.
His body was so near to mine that it was almost touching my bare skin, and his face was so close that his foul breath fanned my left cheek. My whole body shivered in disgust. I wanted to run away and hide in a closet.
Instinctively, my body started wriggling to free itself from those tight cuffs. I had no idea how I had ended up there or how I would escape, but like a fish out of water, I began twisting my body with whatever strength I had left.
"Oh! You are awake at last."
I heard a muffled, drunk voice as a strong hand grabbed my left wrist. "You made me wait a lot, bitch. Stop throwing your tantrums now."
I wanted to scream and punch that old pervert, but my mouth was too dry and my heart was hammering wildly. I could barely utter a few words, "W‑who are you? L‑let me go."
Hearing my helpless plea, a gummy, satisfied smile ruffled his dark lips. Instead of letting me go, he hovered over me. I could feel his heavy weight crushing me, pinning me against the bed.
"Ugh! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!"
While struggling under him, I cried out in panic and humiliation, "D‑do you know who I am? L‑let me go or I will call the police."
Warm tears began to roll down, choking my voice. The foul smell of his alcohol was suffocating me. I felt nauseous and breathless. But all my helpless screams and threats were in vain.
Grinning nastily, he answered, "Call whoever you want. Scream as loudly as you can. Even God can't help you tonight."
That old drunkard tore away my silk bra harshly and leaned down, licking and touching my neck. I kept screaming and wailing in pain, but his touch only became rougher. His bites were so painful they left red marks all over the fair skin of my neck and bosom.
I kept swearing and threatening while sobbing, but it only encouraged him to torment me more, as if he grew more turned on seeing me in pain and tears. I was being molested in my own hotel, and still no one came to rescue me - not even Oliver.
His wet tongue moved down from my chest to my belly. While licking my navel, he began to pull down his underwear in animalistic urgency. His cruel gaze was clouded with lust. I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.
Closing them tightly, I groaned helplessly, "S‑somebody! P‑please help me! Oh God! Oliver, please! Where are-"
Shocking everyone, the door burst open with a loud bang and the ear‑piercing sounds of multiple gunfires filled the room in an instant. My teary eyes opened wide and I saw a group of black‑clad men storm in.
Before I could understand anything, all the lackeys of that old man were shot dead in a blink. The old man looked as dumbfounded as I felt. Turning his head, he screamed in anger at the invaders, "Motherf—"
'Bang! Bang!'
He was silenced with two bullets, and his warm blood sprinkled all over me, making me gasp in utter terror. His numb, lifeless body fell on me. I was choking on the metallic odor of blood when a pale, strong hand pushed his heavy body away from me.
I gulped nervously, hot tears still slipping down my cheeks. Panic I'd never known before welled in my throat. I began to feel nauseous and started losing consciousness.
Before drowning in darkness once again, I saw a pair of ocean‑blue eyes flashing with azure fire in that darkness. His intense gaze was fixed on me as if he were photographing me with his eyes.
---
A soothing piano tune was playing somewhere, making me feel calm. Gradually, I regained my senses. I kept my eyes closed until the tune ended. I twisted and turned on the cosy cushion for a few seconds, then opened my eyes at last.
'No! I was not in my house or tied to anyone's bed.'
I was lying comfortably on a velvety front seat of a car, and a black coat was wrapped around my naked body like a blanket. A sweet manly but unfamiliar scent filled the air around me.
In a few seconds, all the incidents of the previous night flashed through my mind.
Scared and anxious, I hastily turned my head to examine my surroundings. To my surprise, I was in an elegant red Ferrari beside a young man in his early twenties. He wore a white shirt with black jeans. His mysterious ocean‑blue eyes were fixed on the road as the car sped along at 200 km/hr.
The fear subsided when I saw such a youthful, handsome face. After hesitating for a few moments, I asked, "Who are you? Police? Did O‑Oliver send you to help me?"
"Not really."
A devilishly handsome grin curved his thin lips as he turned his innocent face to look at me. "I am here to kidnap you, Mrs. Diana Richard."