Although the room in Beatrice's house wasn't large, at least it wasn't as horrifying as this. The lighting wasn't worse than the first room Beatrice visited. She glanced several times towards the door that was left open. If possible, she would remember in her heart to make that room disappear from her life, no matter how.
The room where she first experienced excessive fear and increasing pain that made her shiver. However, she didn't want to complain about the pain. If anyone heard her crying, she would lose. She wouldn't let that happen.
Her memories were dragged back to a few hours before she was here. When she had just returned from activities on campus. Even though she was happily chatting with her two friends, it felt like she had no burdens. But Beatrice knew, despite the smile on her face, that the burden wasn't easily lifted.
Especially the financial problem.
She was only the only child of a middle-aged man who was rough; he had a gambling addiction, got drunk, and only came home to ask for money from Beatrice before leaving just like that. Beatrice was never asked how she was doing, whether she had eaten or not, or where she got the money she was often asked for.
Beatrice had never been asked by the person she should call 'Father'.
Beatrice's daily routine involved helping her neighbor sell coffee at a coffee shop. In the evenings, she worked at a fast-food restaurant washing dishes. That's where she earned money to support herself. Although she often had to endure hunger and suppress many desires like girls her age, she was fortunate that her university, which recognized her outstanding academic performance despite coming from an underprivileged background, granted her a full scholarship until she graduated.
She wouldn't waste this opportunity, would she?
Unfortunately, Beatrice's dream of becoming a graduate was abruptly halted when four people entered her rented house. They ransacked it ruthlessly, searching for valuable items that Beatrice doubted could be found there. What could be in the three-room house filled with old furniture and belongings?
"What do you guys actually want?" Beatrice asked fearlessly. This wasn't the first or second time that the four of them had come to her house. They had come before, banging on her door in the middle of the night without any shame, demanding repayment of debts. Supposedly, her father had borrowed money for gambling. Beatrice felt that their visit this time was no different.
"Your damn father, Pretty Girl!" one of them said with a wicked grin. He stopped rummaging through the once-neat wardrobe. Beatrice had told him to stop, but it was useless. The four of them had absolutely no shame.
Wretched thugs! Beatrice cursed in her heart.
Hearing the nickname Pretty Girl, Beatrice felt like vomiting. She rolled her eyes with anger. She wasn't intimidated when the person who had spoken earlier stood in front of her. Her eyes continued to stare intently at the well-built man with a tattoo on his right arm.
"He owes a lot of money and hasn't paid up," he said, still with a wicked grin. "We're waiting to see if your father has the guts to come here or not."
Beatrice scoffed sarcastically. "You can wait until you rot. He's never coming back."
The four individuals glanced at each other, then burst into laughter that was so absurd and mocking. One of them even clapped as if what Beatrice had said was a hilarious joke.
The girl didn't care. She chose to step aside, freeing herself from these stubborn thugs. Before she could even reach the worn-out doorknob of her rented house, three people stood in front of her, including...
"Beatrice," a familiar man called softly.
Her father.
His face was bruised everywhere, his lips were torn, his temples had deep wounds that were oozing dried blood. Not to mention his disheveled clothes, stained with dirt on his chest, and torn in several places.
Did Beatrice feel sorry for him?
Not at all. In Beatrice's eyes, her father had long been dead. Just like her mother's death from illness ten years ago. In her eyes, Wayne, her father's name, was nothing more than a parasite that had often troubled her life.
"Beatrice, please help me, dear."
Beatrice moved away as her father suddenly approached to embrace her after being released by the two individuals earlier. One of them had been eyeing Beatrice with great interest since the beginning. It was as if Beatrice was a delicious meal ready to be devoured whenever desired. But Beatrice didn't care about him either.
She only returned to grab her bag from one corner of the room. She chose to leave because she knew that her father's debts were always dealt with by that tattooed dragon thug. She wouldn't want to get involved. Was Beatrice a money vault, after all?
"Where are you going, dear?" Wayne asked, surprised, as his daughter, his only hope of escaping from these thugs, stepped away. "Are you going to abandon your father? Is that it?"
"Deal with your own problems," Beatrice said softly. Her steps didn't falter at all. It wasn't the first or second time her father had behaved like this. How long would Beatrice be used as a crutch? If it were just once and her father truly found redemption, did things right, and didn't cause trouble, Beatrice might not hesitate to offer resistance.
But her father?
Goodness! Even if she were beaten in front of him, Beatrice might already be numb.
"Move aside," Beatrice said. Her steps paused as a strong hand blocked her path. When the long-haired girl turned around, their eyes met in the air. Even though it was only for a split second, Beatrice knew that the gaze didn't tolerate any contradiction. It exuded an overwhelming aura of intimidation. He seemed to be the leader of the thugs; Samuel.
"You can't leave," he said softly but it sent a chilling atmosphere all around. Beatrice herself no longer dared to meet his gaze for too long because she felt as if her throat were being choked, even though no hand was near her. "Listen to your father's words."
"It doesn't matter. Your business is not my concern," Beatrice retorted.
The man, Sam, burst into laughter. It was quite noisy. But no one else joined in the laughter; instead, they bowed their heads. Was this a sign of danger? But why?
"Speak, you bastard!" Sam snapped while grabbing Wayne's body. "Enough with the empty talk. I've wasted a lot of time dealing with you alone, you bastard!"
"Beatrice, your father owes up to a hundred million dollars," Wayne said with a trembling voice. Meanwhile, Beatrice maintained her cold expression. Did her father think she had money to spare? She didn't. So why was he talking as if she were the one responsible for the debt? How convenient.
Beatrice was certain that the amount of money involved included an exorbitant interest. These loan shark thugs should have been wiped off the face of the earth a long time ago. Why were they still around?
"Beatrice has the money to pay, right, dear?" Wayne glanced at his daughter, his eyes filled with hope. Occasionally, a whimper escaped and reached the girl's ears. Perhaps due to her frustration and disappointment with Wayne's behavior all this time, Beatrice could only muster a thin smile. "No, I don't."
"It must be in your bag!" Wayne concluded nervously. He didn't care if there was a continuation of the drama where Beatrice scolded him. What he cared about was getting free from Sam and his cronies today.
"What's wrong with you, Dad?" Beatrice exclaimed in disbelief. She pulled her bag back, which had been on her shoulder the whole time. This scene was observed only by the thug who had been watching this family drama.
"Let go!" Beatrice firmly demanded.
"It's in this bag, Sam. I'm sure my daughter is keeping the money here!"
"Let go!" Beatrice continued to defend her bag.
After a while, Sam let them continue their futile struggle over the old red bag. However, he couldn't stay there for too long. He acted swiftly, snatching the bag that had been the subject of the tug-of-war between father and daughter.
"Hey!" Beatrice glared, unwilling to accept defeat.
Sam looked into the bag he now held and found nothing but books, some stationery, and a jacket. He didn't care. Seeing that, he slammed the bag along with its contents onto the floor.
"What a waste of my time!" he shouted loudly. Then, he grabbed Beatrice's face tightly. "You... I'll give you one day to come up with the money I want."
Beatrice spat in Sam's face. "No way! It's not my debt. Take this old man with you and make him take responsibility."
Was Sam angry?
Not at all. Ever since he first saw Beatrice, there was something different about the girl he was now staring at so intently. The pitch-black gaze, which turned out to be even more beautiful up close, stirred something within him, something that made him incredibly curious.
Sam felt an urge to confine and punish this girl himself, without anyone else knowing what kind of punishment he would administer.
"You better watch your words when you talk to me." Sam rarely called someone by a familiar nickname, but for some reason, his lips uttered these words in front of Beatrice. He wanted to think more, but time was running out. "Consider this debt as your guarantee. I'm giving you twenty-four hours to free yourself. But if that time runs out, you're mine, Miss Beautiful."
"Jerk!"
"Your mouth really deserves to be punished," Sam wanted so badly to injure the lips that had just insulted him. Making a small cut on the corner of the girl's lip wouldn't be difficult for him, but Sam refrained from doing so. "Wait for my revenge, you. I'll make your lips understand the language of punishment!"
Then the tall man left just like that, followed by his henchmen who looked at Beatrice with a fierce and disdainful gaze. Though Beatrice's heart was filled with anxiety, she tried not to care. She directed her anger, which had consumed her, towards her father. As a result, their argument was eventually broken up by the neighbors.
Beatrice thought that the threat was just empty words until she returned home from campus, only to be intercepted by the thugs again. Beatrice didn't have that much money. She also refused to believe that the money she had gathered was solely for paying her father's debt. She would never agree to that.
Right, wasn't it just an empty threat? Their car immediately left after Beatrice insisted on not paying her father's debt. She also ignored the threat of being used as collateral.
However... the threat became a reality.
That night, Beatrice was forcibly dragged out of her rented house. Her father could only watch without being able to help. No matter how much Beatrice cursed, screamed for help, and swore that she would never forgive her father's actions, she was still pulled by the thugs.
Now, this was the place.
She wiped away the sudden tears. The pain she felt in her chest was nothing compared to the disappointment and anger she had. Beatrice herself didn't know what time it was now. A sense of drowsiness began to overwhelm her. She slowly moved to the available corner with a makeshift floor mattress, just to close her eyes for a moment.
Just as she was about to lie down, accompanied by a groan and cautious movements to avoid further pain on her chest, the room door swung wide open. Bright light from outside flooded in, making Beatrice squint. She immediately got up from her lying position. After gaining control of the situation, Beatrice focused her eyes on the figure standing at the door.
"Missed me?"
Beatrice took a wide step forward. Her hand clenched tightly, ready to strike the man's face, but... her movement was abruptly halted.
"Wow! Big fan of aggressive girls, huh?" Sam said with a smirk. He took a step closer, causing Beatrice to take a few steps back. She struggled to free her hand from his grasp.
What did Sam do?
Of course, he didn't do anything.
"Come with me!" he ordered, without room for refusal.
"Let go, you bastard!"
Sam didn't care.
"Damn it! Crazy thug!"
Sam enjoyed the insults but kept pulling Beatrice with a strong grip. She was like a prisoner ready to be tortured whenever he pleased.
"Let go, you bastard!"
"I've been patient enough. If you insult me again, don't regret it when I get rough with you tonight!"
Beatrice stumbled due to the tug and pull of Sam, which was quite strong. No matter how many times she tripped, the man continued to drag her. The girl refused to even whimper in pain. She swallowed it all and tightly sealed her lips. She couldn't let the man know that he had won. Despite the increasing agony that made her body tremble.Her chest was injured, she knew. The spreading heat also refused to dissipate. The pain was unbearable. If left untreated, Beatrice could get an infection. Especially since she had no idea what kind of object that damn man had used.Meanwhile, Sam walked arrogantly, harboring his anger. His encounter with Flown Discotheque had worsened his mood. Especially seeing Beatrice challenging him earlier. He would give her a fitting punishment for this insolent and stubborn girl.In an instant, Beatrice was pushed into a forcibly opened room. The people guarding the door immediately closed it again and stood guard. Once Beatrice realized that this room was very
The girl gazed at the body clad only in thin sleepwear. Damn it, there was only this clothing on the bed. She tried to open the large wardrobe in the corner of the room, hoping to find something more decent to wear, but it was empty. Her efforts were in vain. The wardrobe was tightly locked.She growled in frustration and threw the body onto the sofa.Beatrice still had a wary feeling about the food being served, although she admitted honestly that she was hungry. Since one o'clock in the afternoon, she hadn't had a single grain of rice or even a sip of water to moisten her throat. Her stomach was rumbling. It seemed that the worms she kept inside couldn't hold their hunger any longer. But... Beatrice was afraid.What if this food was poisoned? What if it was laced with strange drugs?The girl was not ignorant about the drugs that could be mixed in and cause her trouble. Oh God! What should she do? She needed to eat, but her worries were overwhelming. If she held off her hunger until
Originally, Sam did intend to restrain himself from touching Beatrice. Since he got lost in the depths of her doll-like eyes, he swore to obtain that girl no matter what it took. Including using his slick tactics. He bombarded Wayne with numerous loans, which were accepted with a cheerful face. Who wouldn't like receiving a loan to fuel their gambling hobby? Moreover, Sam was the kind of man who always got what he wanted. Not just power, but women as well. He only had to point out the type of woman who would accompany him tonight. And most of the time, those women willingly and happily spread their legs for Sam to mount. But with Beatrice, for some reason, something was different. Something that couldn't be easily subdued. Something that made Sam half-crazy with curiosity. He could ignore the pain caused by his actions yesterday and satisfy his curiosity about Beatrice's body. Ah... Sam was thinking too much. Since when did his sentimental feelings surface like this? "What do you w
Beatrice's legs continued to struggle until she couldn't move anymore. Her legs were bound on both sides of the bed, forcibly exposing her thighs. The upper half of her body was partially visible and eagerly enjoyed by Sam.Beatrice felt utterly debased. Moreover, now Sam was right between her thighs, half-kneeling as he watched her with a satisfied gaze."Let me go!""I haven't finished punishing you yet," Sam said softly. Slowly, he leaned down, exposing Beatrice's completely exposed upper body. Sam acknowledged that Beatrice's body was truly beautiful. Flawless. As smooth and pristine as marble crafted by professional hands."Release me, Sam." For the first time, Beatrice called Sam by his name. Despite the tears streaming down her face, she truly couldn't fathom what Sam would do next. Everything she had was gone. She only had her dignity, which she had managed to preserve until now.If Sam were to take that away from her as well?Is there anything she would hate for the rest of h
Her stomach rumbled loudly even though he was fully dressed now. Beatrice was extremely embarrassed when someone found her tied up and naked. Beatrice can’t stop thinking about what’s going on in the mind of this woman who seems a few years older than Beatrice. She felt really uncomfortable."Thank you," Beatrice said after managing to regain control of herself. Her eyes remained downcast and slightly lost. If it weren't for the shocking news, maybe tonight would have been a night she would spend with deep trauma.Especially her growing hatred for Sam."It's okay," the figure said softly. She also gave a reassuring pat on Beatrice's shoulder. That made Beatrice look up, and their eyes met in the air. The woman's thin smile looked genuinely sincere, which eventually infected Beatrice, making her smile briefly too."Oh, by the way, we haven't introduced ourselves," the woman extended her hand. "I'm Anne.""Beatrice," Beatrice replied shortly, shaking her hand."You have a nice name," An
Beatrice didn't immediately close her eyes even though night had fallen. From behind the balcony of the room she now occupied, she could see the faint orange glow fading into darkness. Despite its beauty, Beatrice couldn't stay here for long."I have to get out of here," she said determinedly.She counted several times the possibilities of jumping from the balcony and landing in a part of Sam's house. Even if she managed to do it without getting injured, Beatrice also needed to know the direction she would take to escape. She couldn't end up surrendering herself to the ever-watchful guards."Damn it!" Beatrice grumbled. "What am I doing here? I don't have my bag. I don't even know where my phone is. I'm truly kidnapped!" Beatrice pulled her hair gently.She had lost count of how many times her feet had wandered around this spacious room. Although it looked comfortable and beautiful, Beatrice wasn't drawn to spend her time here.She wanted to be free.The sound of a knock on the door i
The room was stuffy, with minimal lighting, filled with choking smoke and the lingering smell of alcohol permeating the air. In some corners of the room, there were bottles of leftover drinks scattered somewhat messily. Cigarette butts were also scattered around, along with empty glasses from consuming the beverages."Did you, do it?" someone behind the large table in the corner asked. The lighting there was adequate, coming from the intentionally lit reading lamp."Yes, Boss," one of the several people in the room spoke up.None of them dared to look directly at the questioner. The oppressive atmosphere in the room intensified as the questioner rose from his seat and walked slowly toward the man who answered the question."Did you check the place?" he asked."Y-yes, Boss."The questioner grinned slightly. "Did you make sure it's clean?"Once again, the respondent spoke with nervousness because being near the questioner was incredibly intimidating. "Y-yes, Boss."Although the answer s
On the nights when Beatrice slept in Sam's room, an overwhelming fear enveloped her. She woke up several times, worried that the room's owner would enter and ambush her. Considering Sam's previous actions, it wasn't impossible for it to happen again, right?However, it seemed that God was very kind by allowing Beatrice to sleep soundly for the past three days.Her only companions were Anne and Ute, who occasionally visited her. Even then, their conversations were limited because they had other tasks to attend to. Meanwhile, Beatrice could only pace around the room, grumbling with frustration. The walls of Sam's room served as witnesses to her angry muttering."Hey, Beatrice," Anne greeted cheerfully. She held a bag with the logo of a well-known mall in the Southern District."Thank goodness you're here, Anne." Beatrice immediately welcomed the girl whom she considered a friend here. Who else did she know in this house and was familiar enough with? "What did you bring?"Anne simply sho