Tracy was terrified that Yvonne might bolt, so she rushed over as quickly as she could. The door was ajar when she arrived, and she crept inside, heart pounding.
The room was bathed in a shadowy, ambiguous light. Tracy called out hesitantly, “Yvonne?”
Yvonne was hiding just behind the door, waiting for Tracy to come closer.
As Tracy stepped further into the room, she caught sight of Owen sprawled on the floor. The shock sent a jolt through her.
In her panic, she noticed a shadow shifting nearby. Before she could turn around, something heavy crashed down on her head.
Everything went black, and she collapsed, powerless.
Yvonne carefully wiped her fingerprints from the hairdryer, put it back in its place, then filled her hands with water and splashed it straight onto Owen’s face. She even kicked him a couple of times to jolt him awake.
Then, moving quickly, she ran to the door, switched off the lights, and shut it tight.
The icy water snapped Owen awake. Disoriented but furious, he instinctively reached for the figure beside him. Without thinking, he rolled over and pinned Tracy beneath him, slapping her hard several times.
“Damn it, you’d rather take your punishment than cooperate, huh?” His blows landed with full force.
Tracy came to with a start, only to feel his rough hands roaming over her, her dress being torn apart, and his intentions violently clear.
Terrified, she pleaded, “Mr. Reed, please! I’m not Yvonne—I’m Tracy, your son’s girlfriend!”
She fought wildly, but Owen was like a beast, crushing her so she couldn’t move an inch.
He didn’t care. Lust and rage had completely clouded his mind; all he wanted was to vent his anger on the woman beneath him.
From outside, Yvonne could hear Tracy’s cries of pain, but this time, not a shred of pity crossed her heart.
If she hadn’t managed to escape the lion’s den, she’d be the one suffering now.
Just as she finished shutting the door, Yvonne turned around and crashed straight into a solid chest, nearly screaming in fright.
“It’s me,” came a low voice.
Marico had run the whole way; he was out of breath, sweat beading on his brow and neck.
The tension and worry in his deep, dark eyes finally gave way to calm as he saw her safe.
Yvonne had been shaking with terror, but as soon as she saw Marico, it felt like she’d found her anchor. Her lips trembled, and she threw herself into his arms, her voice small and pitiful, “You’re here.”
She’d never been through anything so vile in her life, never even been in a physical fight. Now, she clung to Marico, trembling from head to toe.
Marico hugged her tightly, letting out a long breath when he was sure she was unharmed. “Are you okay? Who told you to drink in the first place?”
“I—” Yvonne started to explain.
From inside the room came a string of vicious, obscene curses—clearly, things had already escalated.
Marico’s brow furrowed as he pieced things together. He gently covered Yvonne’s ears and led her toward the elevator.
“What happened?” he asked quietly.



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