In the dimly lit lobby of the T.S. Club, the thick, perfumed air clung to the walls like an unseen haze. Nina, dressed in a faded blue dress that clung loosely to her slim frame, hurried inside. Her straight black hair swayed behind her, and her wide, clear eyes darted nervously as she approached the doorman. The contrast of her anxious expression against her youthful, tender features was striking, and her small, pale hands twisted the fabric of her dress as she approached.
The doorman, a tall man with a stoic demeanor, gave a nod as she approached. Behind his silent acknowledgment, his mind churned with judgment. "Ah, yes, just like Ryan, Lucien Gray's driver, said. This is the woman set to meet Mr. Gray tonight," he thought, eyeing her faded attire with mild distaste, yet recognizing her natural beauty. She was the type that would easily attract the attention of a man like Lucien.
"Excuse me! How do I get to Room 1806?" Nina's voice broke through her own unease, her tone urgent.
The doorman's lips curled into a polite smile. "Are you Miss Nina?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of gallantry that betrayed his inner thoughts. "Pure as water," he mused. "Lucien Gray is a lucky man to have her tonight."
"Yes," she replied quickly. "How do I get there?"
"The elevator to the left," the doorman gestured, his voice smooth. "It will take you to the 18th floor. Room 1806 is at the end of the corridor, the largest suite there."
Nina muttered a hurried thank you and rushed toward the elevator, her breath quickening as her questions mounted. Why had a strange man called her about her sister? Why would Grace be at a place like this, a high-class club so far out of their reach?
The elevator doors slid open silently, and Nina stepped inside, her heart pounding harder with each passing floor. As the doors opened on the 18th floor, she stepped out into a hallway lined with expensive wallpaper and priceless paintings from around the world. Normally, such an elegant setting would have left her wide-eyed with wonder, but tonight, her focus was singular-finding Grace.
Her steps on the thick, plush white carpet were noiseless, adding to the growing tension in the silent corridor. The atmosphere felt oppressive, the air thick with something intangible, and her nerves tingled with each step toward the door marked 1806. Her pulse raced as she reached the suite at the end of the hall, her breathing shallow. She raised her trembling hand and knocked gently on the door.
Silence.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she knocked again, harder this time. Still nothing. Her anxiety deepened. With a shaking hand, she pushed the door, startled when it creaked open. It wasn't locked.
The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, a void where sound and light seemed to vanish. Nina hesitated at the threshold, her instincts screaming to turn back, but worry for her sister propelled her forward.
"Sis? Grace, are you there?" Nina's voice echoed faintly in the oppressive silence. No answer, only the vague sound of someone's ragged breathing, as if they were in pain.
Her heart lurched. "Poor Grace, she must be drunk," Nina thought as she crept forward, her fingers outstretched toward the faint sound. She could imagine her sister, slumped on the floor or sprawled across the bed, needing to be taken home. Nina's mind raced, planning to get her back safely, to sober her up.
The breaths grew louder. Closer.
Suddenly, a wave of unease washed over Nina, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Something was wrong. Before she could react, large, hot hands wrapped around her from behind, their grip firm and unrelenting.
"Ah! Who are you?" she shrieked, panic seizing her as she struggled violently. These hands weren't Grace's-they were male, and their touch was rough, suffocating. Nina's breath hitched as the man pressed against her, his body overpowering hers. She thrashed, kicking her legs, but his muscular frame trapped her effortlessly. His hands roamed her body, and she screamed in terror.
"Let go of me!" Her voice broke as her struggles became frantic, but the man remained silent, his actions more aggressive. Desperation clawed at her chest, and she bit down hard on his lips, tasting blood. He let out a low grunt of pain, but instead of releasing her, he tightened his grip.
"No!" Nina's scream was raw, her voice hoarse. She clawed at his face, at his arms, her nails digging into his flesh, but it was futile. He was unyielding. In the dark, his cruel strength overwhelmed her, his assault brutal and merciless.
Time seemed to blur, and the agony that followed shattered her. The pain was blinding, ripping through her body and mind. Her cries faded into the heavy silence of the room, and all that remained was the dull throb of her broken spirit.
A tear slid down Nina's cheek, her soul drowning in the darkness surrounding her. She was lost, her innocence stolen, her world irreparably shattered. The weight of the moment pressed down on her until all she could feel was numbness-the ache of loss etched deep into her very being.