: 4

4

A knot of suspicion formed in my gut, so I called Aunt Hannah. Her phone was off.

I quickly sent her a message asking why she wasn't answering.

Over an hour later, a door opened. A few men then walked to the elevator bank, chatting as they waited.

They all wore the same lecherous grin.

One of them took a long drag from an E-Cigarette and said:

"This broad's gotten a lot more obedient. Just what you'd expect from a dancer—you can play rough and she won't break. That feeling… Tsk, it's incredible."

"No shit. Young Master Sterling spent a month 'training' her himself. He could tame a wild mare into a little lamb, hahaha."

"The way she cried and begged for mercy… Damn, I almost felt bad for her."

"She's a damn whore. Her family took so much from Young Master Sterling, so what's wrong with letting us guys have a little fun? She's only here for the money, just like all the other bimbos before her."

The men shamelessly described the details, their voices laced with an unsatisfied hunger.

Listening to their lewd conversation echoing down the hall, I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted iron before I slowly let go.

I didn't dare make a sound.

As the elevator doors opened, the noisy hallway gradually fell silent.

After waiting a good while longer, I finally dared to creep out of the stairwell. I stole over to Suite 1702 and pressed my ear against the door.