CHAPTER 3: SAME ROOM

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Five years later,

A beautiful young lady stood outside the doctor’s office, her heart beating fast as uncertainty clouded her mind. Should she go in, or just run away?

The young lady was Layla Carter. A woman in her prime, blessed with features that could make anyone take a second glance. Her beauty was undeniable, though it carried a quiet sadness that made her look older than her age.

But right now, that beauty was shadowed by distress.

Her daughter was sick, critically ill, and needed urgent surgery. The cost was enormous, and Layla had no one left to turn to. She was a single mother, and life had been merciless.

She stared at the doctor’s door. A lump formed in her throat, because she already knew what he was going to say. After a long, heavy breath, she finally gathered her courage and stepped inside.

Just as she expected, the doctor asked for the deposit, four hundred thousands dollars, to begin the surgery immediately.

Layla left the office trembling. Four hundred thousand dollars overnight? It was impossible. But then her heart started with a small flicker of hope, her boss had always been kind to her. Maybe… maybe he could help.

She went straight to the bar where she worked at night. As soon as she walked in, Madam Suzy, her boss, spotted her.

“Layla, you’re back! I thought you said you were taking some days off.”

“Yes, I’m not here to work tonight,” Layla said quickly.

Madam Suzy frowned. “What’s wrong? Is your daughter okay?”

Layla’s lips trembled. “I need your help, ma’am.”

Suzy’s expression softened, worrying creasing her forehead. “What is it, Layla?”

“My daughter needs surgery,” Layla said, voice breaking. “The money is too much… I don’t know where else to go.”

“How much?” Suzy asked carefully.

“Four hundred thousand dollars, ma’am.” Layla’s tears began to fall. “Please… can you loan it to me? I’ll do anything. Please.”

Suzy’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Anything?” she repeated.

Layla nodded desperately. “Yes, ma’am. My daughter’s life is in danger.”

Suzy tilted her head, pretending to think. “Give Sir Gideon a chance tonight.”

Layla froze. “What? Ma’am, you know that old man…he’s up to no good.”

“Layla, darling,” Suzy purred, “he just wants to talk. He’s a generous man. He’s willing to take care of you and your daughter if you’re smart about it.”

Layla wanted to argue, but time was running out. Her daughter’s face flashed in her mind, pale and fragile in that hospital bed. Maybe… It really was just a conversation.

‘If it's what it takes to save my daughter, I'll endure it’ she thought.

“It’s just a talk, right?”

Suzy smiled sweetly. “Of course, dear. Go to this room by nine p.m.”

She handed Layla a VIP card.

************

Late that night, Layla stood before the VIP room door, wearing a simple black dress and a half-face mask. Her palms were cold and clammy.

She hesitated, her mind racing, I can still turn back. But then her daughter’s weak voice echoed in her memory, and she gripped the handle tightly.

“It’s just a talk,” she whispered, pushing the door open.

Inside, Mr. Gideon was already sitting on a couch, legs crossed, a glass of wine in his hand. The sight of him made her uneasy. His eyes roamed shamelessly over her body, and she felt her skin crawl.

“Good evening, Sir,” Layla said softly.

He smirked but said nothing.

“Madam Suzy said you wanted to talk,” she continued, trying to sound calm.

“You should have a drink first,” he said, his tone low and suggestive. “The night is long. And take off that mask…no need for secrets between us.”

“I don’t drink alcohol, and I’m not here for drinks,” she replied firmly.

Gideon chuckled. “So you know what this is about.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting. “You need money for your daughter’s surgery, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Sir. If you could help me, I’ll pay you back as soon as I can” Layla said quickly.

He clicked his tongue and smiled wickedly. “You don’t need to pay me back.”

Her stomach dropped.

“You just need to serve me for tonight,” he said, his breath heavy with alcohol. “I’ll pay for your daughter’s surgery and give you some extra cash. How’s that for a deal?”

Layla’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What?”

Anger flared in her chest. She realized she’d been deceived, by the very woman she trusted.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, her voice shaking but polite. “I can’t do that.”

She turned toward the door, but before she could reach it, Gideon’s voice turned venomous.

“You arrogant little bitch! Do you think you’re special?”

The air turned heavy; her instincts screamed to run.

She ignored him, trying to open the door, but suddenly, his hand gripped her arm and yanked her backward.

“What are you doing?!” she cried, struggling.

His face twisted in rage. He struck her stomach, and she gasped in pain, collapsing against the table. Bottles shattered around her as her back hit the edge.

“Aahhh!” she screamed, clutching her side.

Gideon crawled over her, his weight crushing her down. “Stop! Don’t touch me!” she cried, kicking wildly. Her knee hit his ribs, but it only made him angrier.

“Help! Somebody help me!” she screamed, but the room was soundproof.

He tore the shoulder of her blouse, his lips attacking her neck roughly. Layla’s eyes darted around in panic, until she saw a wine bottle within reach.

In a flash of desperation, she grabbed it and smashed it across his head.

“Ahhhh!” Gideon screamed, blood streaming down his face.

Layla pushed him off with all her strength and bolted out of the room.

“GET HER FOR ME!” Gideon’s roar echoed through the corridor.

**********

Her heartbeat thundered as she ran down the hallway, the sound of footsteps behind her. She turned a corner, only to see a tall man about to enter another VIP room.

Without thinking, she rushed to him.

“Please…. please, let me in!” she gasped, grabbing the door handle and slipping inside with him before anyone could see.

She slammed the door shut and locked it.

The man stared at her, confused. His expression was calm, but his presence was overwhelming—dark, commanding.

“What are you doing, miss?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

Layla pressed her back to the door, breathing heavily. “Just for a while… please. I won’t stay long.”

He didn’t reply, only studied her with unreadable eyes. Even in the dim light, she could tell he was dangerous, the kind of man no one should cross.

Layla swallowed nervously. Her torn blouse exposed her shoulder, and she crossed her arms to cover herself.

“I’ll repay your kindness one day,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man smirked. “Should I look forward to it, Miss Mask?” he asked, his deep baritone laced with amusement.

Layla blinked. “Miss Mask?”

She touched her face, then remembered the mask she was still wearing. Relief washed over her. At least he wouldn’t recognize her if their paths crossed again.

For now, she was safe.

But when she finally decided to leave, she froze at the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight before her.

Her breath caught in her throat.

What she saw made her heart stop…