Jenny barely had time to register the wave of dizziness before her knees buckled. The mug slipped from her fingers and shattered as she collapsed to the floor. Her vision swam, heart thudding in her chest like a drumbeat gone wild.

Then—BAM!

The door burst open with a violent kick.

Lila and Aunt Susan strolled in like they owned the place, four bulky bodyguards flanking them. Smirking. Confident. Dangerous.

Jenny's stomach clenched.

She forced herself upright, despite the tremble in her limbs. “What do you want?” she snapped, her voice steadier than she felt.

To the world, Lila and Susan were her family. In reality, they were her tormentors—wolves in silk dresses. They never missed a chance to humiliate her, to grind her spirit into the dirt and laugh while they did it.

And tonight, it was happening again. She had walked right into their trap.

Lila’s lips curled with pleasure as she approached, toying with a lock of her chestnut curls like she had all the time in the world. Her heels clicked against the floor with an ominous rhythm.

“Jenny,” she drawled, voice sweet like poison, “you’ve lived under my parents’ roof since you were seven. That’s eleven years of food, shelter, and charity. Don’t you think it’s time you paid us back?”

Jenny’s pulse pounded in her ears. Lila’s words weren’t a threat—they were a sentence. She knew something was coming, something bad.

“Y-you’re insane…” Jenny’s voice cracked, fury rising, but darkness closed in before she could finish.

Everything went black.

---

Watbridge International Hotel. Presidential Suite 2216.

She woke in a nightmare.

Heat coursed through her like fire, her skin slick with sweat, heart racing as if it would tear out of her chest. She tried to move—her clothes were gone. Panic clawed its way up her throat.

She was burning.

In the haze of confusion, her hand brushed something cool—someone. Her body, aching and lost to the fever, reached instinctively toward that relief.

The man beside her shifted, awakened by her touch.

His breath smelled of liquor, his presence overpowering. His eyes opened, dark and hungry, and before Jenny could make sense of what was happening, he was on her.

“No,” she whispered weakly, trying to push him away.

He didn’t stop.

Her wrists were pinned, her protests muffled by her own weakness. His strength drowned her resistance like a wave crashing over a drowning girl.

Pain shot through her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized, horrified, what was being stolen from her. Shame, helplessness, and fury all collided inside her like a storm with no escape. Her body betrayed her, responding even as her soul screamed no.

And then—nothing.

---

Jenny jolted awake, breath shallow, eyes wide.

She was back in her room.

But it wasn’t a dream.

Her body ached, the soreness between her legs a cruel reminder. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and something metallic still clung to her skin.

She curled into herself, shaking.

What the hell had happened?

“This was just the beginning.