Cami's Dad?

Ariana woke up with a dry mouth and a stomach that felt like a washing machine full of broken glass. The room was pitch black, silent, and overwhelmingly unfamiliar. The massive bed she was in felt like a cloud, but the urgency in her gut was screaming

"I'm going to throw up "she cried

She carefully slipped out of bed, leaving the barely stirring Camila in the peaceful silence. She needed a bathroom, and she needed it immediately. This was her first time in Camila’s house—no, mansion—and every dark hallway looked exactly the same.

She stumbled through a doorway, convinced it was the right direction, only to find herself in a vast, cold kitchen. She retraced her steps, heart pounding against her aching ribs, until, through sheer luck, she finally located a guest powder room. The relief was immediate and total.

After emptying her stomach and splashing cold water on her face, Ariana felt marginally better—still dizzy, but no longer on the verge of total collapse.

She carefully pushed the powder room door open, navigating the silent, cavernous house back toward the direction she thought Camila's room lay. She was passing a large, heavily carved wooden door, distinct from the others, when a sound snagged her attention.

It was soft at first, easily missed beneath the thick carpet and solid walls. A low, rhythmic thud... thud... thud.

Ariana froze. She held her breath, trying to identify the noise. It wasn’t a television, and it wasn’t music. It was organic.

Then, she heard it—a woman’s voice, a sudden, sharp, high-pitched gasp that melted quickly into a low, throaty moan.

Curiosity—and the need to pass the door—overrode caution. Ariana edged closer. The wooden door was slightly ajar, maybe a quarter of an inch, casting a faint sliver of light onto the hallway floor. She could hear everything clearly now: the undeniable, wet sound of flesh hitting flesh, the rapid, ragged breathing, the woman's desperate moans echoing from the darkness inside.

Ariana’s eyes went wide with sudden, horrified understanding,even though she couldn't see anything but she could still see the silhouette of a man and she immediately guessed who it was.

Oh my god. Fuck I think that's Cami’s dad. He's… he’s fucking.

A wave of heat, shame, and sheer terror washed over her. She was a silent spectator to a private, extremely intimate scene in the dead center of the house she was illegally sleeping in. Her cheeks burned. I need to get out of here right now.

She carefully started to back away, pressing herself against the opposite wall, trying to disappear into the shadows.

"Don’t make a sound. Don't make a sound"she inwardly scolded herself.

As she took her last backward step, her hip collided silently with a pedestal table. Her hands shot out, trying to stabilize herself and the object on the stand. It was a tall, intricate ceramic vase, heavy and delicate.

Ariana thought she had caught it. For a brief, agonizing second, the vase remained perfectly still between her clumsy hands.

Then, gravity won.

Her hand slipped. The vase tilted, gathering momentum, and crashed from the stand onto the marble floor with a shattering, ear-splitting explosion of ceramic and noise.

Silence fell in the room behind the door, a terrifying, sudden absence of sound.

Ariana froze, her heart hammering against her ribs, convinced the sound was loud enough to wake the dead. She stared at the broken shards at her feet, paralyzed.

From behind the slightly open door, a low, demanding voice sliced through the silence.A voice that carried command. A voice that was dangerously close.

"Who the hell is out there?"Ariana tried to bolt, spinning on her heel to escape, but before she could take a single step, a large, impossibly fast hand shot out from the dark crack of the doorway, wrapping around her forearm with an iron grip.

She was yanked forward, stumbling to her knees.A low, familiar chuckle rumbled from the shadow, deadly soft and chillingly close to her ear.

"Where do you think you're running to, niña?