CHAPTER 2

“Sir, please… I’m only working here. Please let me go.”

Nadine’s voice trembled, her eyes brimming with tears that would not stop falling. Her face had gone pale, her lips drained of color, her body shaking violently in fear.

“I’m not a spy, Sir. I swear I won’t tell anyone anything. Please, Sir…”

A sharp pain shot through her scalp as the man yanked her hair mercilessly. Nadine winced, her head throbbing in agony. “It hurts… Sir,” she whispered as her small body was dragged without mercy.

Nadine had no idea where he was taking her. Their footsteps echoed down a long corridor she had never seen before, far from the restroom area where she worked. What is this place? she thought in panic when the man opened a large door at the end of the hallway.

Without a word, Justine pulled her inside a pitch-dark room.

The air inside was freezing cold. Nadine trembled, her tears flowing uncontrollably. The image of her family flashed through her mind — her sick father, her worried mother, and her little brother. I’m not ready to die… I still want to live, she prayed silently, begging God for a chance to survive.

A loud bang startled her as the door was slammed shut. Then the lights came on, revealing a room that was unexpectedly luxurious — thick carpeted floors, elegant furniture, the faint scent of expensive perfume in the air. Though she had never stepped into a five-star hotel, Nadine knew this room was as grand as the ones she had only seen on television.

“Sir, I swear. I’m not a spy,” she stammered, kneeling on the floor. Her hands clasped together in front of her chest, trembling in fear. “If I’m lying, you may kill me, Sir. I only work here. I wear a hat so people won’t notice my face. My friend told me this place is dangerous, full of drunk guests. The hat belongs to her. I’m not in disguise — I’m just a worker, Sir.”

Justine’s eyes narrowed. A crooked smile curled on his lips — cold and menacing.

“You think I’m a fool?” His voice was icy as he yanked her upright. His fingers gripped her chin harshly, forcing her face up. “Who sent you here?”

Nadine shook her head quickly. “No one, Sir,” she sobbed.

A hard slap landed across her cheek. Nadine stumbled, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her vision spun, her ears rang. When she nearly collapsed, Justine grabbed her arm and struck her again — harder than before.

“Sir… please… let me go,” she pleaded weakly, her voice barely audible. Her small face was flushed red, her eyes wet, her body swaying in exhaustion.

Justine stared down at her coldly. “I won’t kill you… if you talk,” he said flatly.

But Nadine only cried. She had already told him everything, yet he refused to believe her.

“Speak!” Justine roared, his voice echoing through the room.

Nadine bowed her head, unable to speak. The faces of her loved ones filled her mind — her frail father, her mother waiting at home, and her thirteen-year-old brother. I have to live… for them, she told herself.

“Please, Sir… don’t kill me. Let me live,” she rasped as Justine’s hand closed around her throat. The pressure tightened, stealing her breath. Tears streamed down her face as her vision blurred. She could only look at the man before her — handsome, yet merciless. The world spun and darkened.

Then suddenly, his grip loosened. Nadine collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, clutching her reddened neck.

“I’ll make you regret this for the rest of your life… for refusing to speak,” Justine said sharply. He grabbed Nadine’s blouse, ripping it open — buttons scattering across the carpet. Nadine fought back, striking his chest with her small fists, every ounce of strength she had left.

Justine didn’t move. He let her hit him again and again without flinching, even smiling faintly.

“Hands that small could never hurt me,” he mocked. “It feels more like a massage.”

Nadine stepped back, her breath uneven, her face wet with tears.

He only watched her, taking slow, deliberate steps forward. “You think you can run from me?”

“I beg you, Sir… I only work here. Please, let me go…” she cried, pleading.

Justine’s eyes hardened. “You’ll regret this,” he said flatly before seizing her wrist roughly.

He pulled her close, trapping her small frame in his arms. “You know,” he whispered coldly, “many women dream of sharing a bed with me. But you… you’re not even my type. You’re too thin — your chest almost flat.”

His hands moved freely, igniting disgust and terror in her heart.

Anger flared inside her. The man before her was arrogant — utterly vile.

“Then let me go,” Nadine said, her voice trembling but brave.

Justine chuckled lowly. “So you do have some spirit,” he sneered.

“Let me go,” Nadine repeated firmly, though her voice was faint.

“I won’t,” he hissed. “You need to learn what happens when someone dares to defy me.”

His hands began to wander further, crossing the line that should never be crossed. The sound of tearing fabric echoed between sobs and fear.

Nadine shut her eyes, her whole body shaking. God, please don’t let this happen… please stop him… she prayed silently.

But Justine no longer heard. Rage and lust had drowned his soul.

And in that silent room, only Nadine’s cries remained — the prayer of a woman who, that night, lost everything.

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