Chapter 2
"Roy, don't push it too far. If you have demands, just state them. What kind of bullshit is this? Trying to flex your power by toying with women?”
Brian struggled to rise, but the foot crushing his head pressed down harder, causing cold sweat to bead on his forehead in pain.
The man seated on the long sofa waved his hand.
The long-haired man stomping on Brian released his foot. Roy walked over to Brian and grabbed him by the hair.
“Do you know whose turf this is?”
Brian's expression changed as a sense of foreboding rose within him.
"On my turf, stabbing my customer..."
He turned again, his gaze sweeping over the battered hostess on the floor. He tightened his grip.
"Is this how your father taught you to apologize? Huh?”
Brian's head was forced back; his eyes were bloodshot with rage.
So what if this was his turf? He'd only slept with a hostess. How big of a deal could that be?
He knew this man was deliberately picking a fight to punish him.
He didn't believe customers here treated hostesses with proper respect.
One hostess had dared to covet his fiancée's place. As a man, he knew exactly how to humiliate him.
Ten minutes later, his men dragged in a Polish beauty and tossed her roughly onto the floor.
Brian watched his delicate fiancée, his heart twisting in pain.
The woman, unaware of the situation, scanned the room helplessly, finally settling on the only familiar face—her fiancé's.
Roy leaned down, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. He tossed the pills onto the table before turning his gaze back to the restrained man.
"You take them, or she does?"
The woman looked utterly bewildered, unable to comprehend his words.
Roy watched her expression, a smirk curling his lips as he leaned back.
His quick-witted henchman repeated the order to the woman.
Her eyes instantly widened in terror. She scrambled to her feet and crawled to her fiancé's side. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to confirm his words.
Trapped in his own predicament, Brian couldn't spare her a thought. His body held captive, he could only offer a helpless "I'm sorry, honey."
Hearing this predictable response, Roy let out a cold, sarcastic laugh.
Such a useless piece of trash, betraying his own woman. Utterly incompetent.
Rarely feeling pity, he nevertheless walked over to the woman and crouched down.
He gently lifted her chin with his thick hand and studied her pitifully beautiful face as a wisp of white smoke drifted from his lips.
After a moment, he spoke slowly,
"I'll let you make the decision. How does that sound?"
His gentle tone carried words that were both cruel and tantalizing. Her tear-filled eyes widened instantly as she stared at him.
No one who took that little aphrodisiac pill ever ended up well. She recognized it.
In the compound, she had witnessed Brian's men forcing this drug on disobedient women.
The horrifying scene was etched in her memory, and fear welled up in her eyes.
"You have one minute."
Seeing her hesitate, Roy released her and stepped back to lean against the bar, waiting for her decision.
Brian's mouth was covered, muffling his voice. His gaze was fixed intently on his fiancée's every move.
The tension and terror in his eyes grew heavier.
Then he saw her hand reach for the pill on the table, hesitate, and finally turn to look at him.
His heart plummeted instantly. He struggled frantically to break free, but his strength failed him.
...
Outside the door, the manager gently pushed open the private room door.
The sight inside stunned him, despite his experience handling all sorts of situations.
The guest who had reserved the room was kneeling on the floor with his shoulders pinned down. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was naked and filthy.
Seated on the sofa was a man who seemed vaguely familiar yet unfamiliar. Regardless, the manager's extensive experience instantly identified him as someone best not crossed.
Roy rarely visited this entertainment club. Though he was its largest owner, few employees had ever seen him.
The manager's gaze darted between the furious man on the floor and the man on the sofa, hesitating over whether to speak.
Only when the man on the sofa turned his attention to him did the manager hurriedly explain, "These women were selected according to Mr. Baker's instructions. They're all contestants who placed in beauty pageants. It's just...this..."
In this situation, were these women useful at all?
He dared not voice the rest of the question.
Roy seemed oblivious to his words, showing no reaction.
He rose and walked over to the disheveled man. He pressed a freshly smoked cigarette butt into the man's scalp with brutal force.
The excruciating pain was almost unbearable.
Brian could almost hear his own flesh crackling and rotting. Not long ago, he had inflicted this very torment on a hostess.
Now, the tables were turned, and the stark contrast multiplied the humiliation seeping through his soul.
The extinguished cigarette butt was shoved into his mouth. The man's gaze was pure scorn.
"You sure are devoted."
His pursuit of pleasure was confined to a single profession.
He then straightened up and waved to the manager, signaling him to bring someone in.
Audrey was the last to enter. The women ahead of her froze when they saw the scene inside the private room.
The air was filled with a stench of decay mingled with the murky smell of blood. Anyone stepping into the room could immediately sense what had transpired.
Now, a scene of brutal abuse was unfolding before their eyes.
A frail man was pinned down on the liquor table. His face was purple and swollen and covered in blood. One of his hands was firmly secured to the tabletop.
A man in a white shirt leaned casually against the table with his back to them.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, muscular forearms. The stiff shirt couldn't hide his broad shoulders, and his silhouette appeared exceptionally robust.
Ignoring the women who had entered, Roy tilted his head back and downed a shot of liquor. He casually set the glass back down, completely oblivious to those around him.
His subordinate, sensing the moment, grabbed a bottle of liquor and slammed it hard against the edge of the table. The bottle shattered instantly, leaving only half of it intact.
He promptly handed it to Roy.
The sharp, jagged edge of the glass sent a chill through Brian.
“What are you doing?”
Roy glanced down at the shattered bottle mouth. Without hesitation, he grabbed the sharp edge and plunged it into the man's finger on the table.
A piercing scream erupted from within the private room.
Though the glass was thick, the dull, searing pain inflicted by the jagged edge was more intense than a knife cut.
Everyone in the room shuddered involuntarily, witnessing this.
Blood spurted from the severed finger and splattered onto his hands. Roy flashed a look of disgust.
"A gift for your father. Find a nice box and send it to him."
Casually tossing aside the blood-stained bottle, he signaled his men to pack up the severed finger.
Only after completing these actions did he turn around leisurely, revealing a row of women standing in perfect alignment behind him.
His gaze swept lazily over them, pausing briefly on the woman veiled in gauze.
Though seemingly casual, that single glance sent Audrey into a cold sweat, an inexplicable dread spreading rapidly through her.
The women awaiting selection had far stronger nerves than she did—at least, they stood composed with smiles fixed on their faces.
She thought that, without her veil, her deathly pallor would surely stand out.
The matter wasn't over. The man in the white shirt leaned close to the wounded man's ear. His voice was neither loud nor soft, yet clear enough for Audrey to hear.
"Why not give me your fiancée? You can marry one of these women instead.”
A cruel curve lifted his lips as he casually gestured toward the women standing nearby.
The man trembled violently; it was unclear whether it was from unbearable pain or utter humiliation.
Such a pathetic sight was utterly revolting.
Roy's eyes brimmed with scorn. His gaze drifted upward and caught sight of the woman standing in the doorway. Though veiled, the shock in her eyes was unmistakable.
She quickly concealed it, but her subtle step backward caught Roy's attention, making him narrow his eyes slightly.
His gaze locked onto her, sweeping over the figure largely concealed by the veil.
A smirk touched his lips; his eyes brimmed with amusement.
