Let’s cut to the chase—
…
Morning in Jiangcheng was wrapped in a thick layer of mist.
Inside Room 1818 of the M Hotel...
The heavy air still clung with traces of last night’s passion. Clothes were scattered messily on the floor; a black lace bra caught the eye, dangled carelessly from the bedside lamp—must’ve been tossed there in a rush.
Natalie Woods woke up with an urgent need to pee. As she sat up, soreness swept over her, and her head throbbed with a dull ache.
“Ahh...”
Her whole body screamed in pain, like she’d been hit by a truck. She forced herself up, instinctively heading for the bathroom—
“Thunk!”
She smacked straight into the wall.
The jolt snapped her into sharper awareness. Holding her forehead, Natalie blinked hard, her wide, clear eyes darting around.
Wait—this isn’t her dorm room? What... this is—
A hotel suite?
She scrambled back under the covers, clutching the blanket to her chest. Her lips pressed together, eyes flickering with confusion and panic. Her brain kicked into overdrive.
Last night, she’d gone with her boyfriend Ethan Fisher to his company dinner. He wanted her to hang out with him. Everyone seemed nice, and some even complimented them, saying they looked like the perfect couple.
The atmosphere had been lively. She sipped some red wine, and before long, her head spun and her limbs felt like jelly. Ethan was caught up chatting with his coworkers, and not wanting to ruin his moment, Natalie leaned back on the couch to rest.
But her headache only got worse—it felt like she was burning up from the inside. She finally turned to Ethan and said, “I’m not feeling great. Can you take me back to campus?”
Ethan frowned. “Natalie, our boss Mr. Henderson hasn’t shown up yet. I really can’t leave right now…”
But seeing how pale she looked, his tone softened.
“How about this? The company booked a few rooms here. Room 1816 is where the female staff are resting. I’ll take you up there.”
“Alright then.”
Ethan was still new at the company and needed to make a good impression. Natalie didn’t want to cause him trouble.
He helped her into Room 1816. Before leaving, he even said gently, “Be good. Just rest for a bit, I’ll come get you as soon as we’re done.”
“Okay!”
She collapsed onto the soft bed, too drained to speak. Sleep pulled her under fast. Her canvas shoulder bag stayed strapped to her side—she hadn’t even taken it off.
…
Who knows how long had passed.
In a daze, she felt rough hands brushing against her face.
She thought it was Ethan, finally there to bring her home.
Blinking her eyes open…
What met her eyes was a nightmare—a fat, scruffy, drunk old man with greasy hair, inching in way too close, those slimy lips puckering toward her.
Natalie jolted awake with a shock. This room was meant for the female employees. What the hell was this man doing here?
Had he gotten wasted and stumbled into the wrong room?
She wanted to scream, to tell him to get lost, but her throat was parched, and no sound came—no matter how hard she tried.
The man lurched closer.
She turned her face away in pure disgust, flailing with arms and legs, trying desperately to push him off.
Her resistance only seemed to turn him on.
Wasn’t she supposed to be drugged? Why’s she still fighting back? Feisty little thing.
“Heh, I like it wild—more fun that way,” he sneered, his voice heavy with grime as he pinned down her wrists, his smirk growing.
Waves of nausea and dizziness crashed over her again. Her limbs trembled, losing strength, turning to mush.Seeing that she had no strength left to fight back, he finally let go of Natalie’s arm and began fumbling to undo his pants, clearly in a rush.
Those delicate facial features, perky chest, small waist, and those long, fair legs…
The old man swallowed hard, eyes gleaming.
"What a rare little beauty... They say she's still pure too. That face, that body—worth my life, honestly..."
He rubbed his hands together, then suddenly lunged at her.
No, she had to get away from this disgusting creep. She couldn’t let it end like this.
Natalie took a sharp breath...
Just as the old man lunged forward, Natalie used every ounce of strength to roll off the bed to the other side. She stumbled toward the door, desperately trying to escape.
"You little b*tch, messing with me? You think I’ll let you off?!"
He missed and nearly fell over, cursing loudly as he chased after her in fury.
Natalie’s head was still spinning, and she struggled to move quickly. Her hand hadn't even reached the doorknob before he yanked her back, tearing at her clothes...
Thank God she hadn’t taken off her crossbody bag when she lay down to rest earlier—it acted like a buffer. Without it, her jacket would’ve been ripped off already.
Even so, her slim shoulder had already been exposed from the struggle, her chest slightly visible beneath the disheveled fabric…
The old man nearly had a nosebleed. She looked slim, but he hadn’t expected her to have such curves.
He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her roughly back onto the bed.
"Be smart, be my girl. Take care of me, and I’ll take care of you—nice clothes, good life, no worries..."
Natalie held onto her coat with both hands, fear written all over her face as she scooted backward toward the headboard.
"Come here, baby... Let me have a feel..."
The old man came closer, grinning with his yellow teeth, looking every bit the predator ready to pounce.
No way she was letting this happen…
A surge of pure survival instinct shattered the fear and the exhaustion. Her fingers closed around the ashtray on the nightstand, and with everything she had left, she swung it straight at him.
Blood splattered instantly.
The old man clutched his head and howled in pain...
This was her chance.
Dragging her weak, trembling body, Natalie staggered out of room 1816.
She barely made it a few steps down the hallway before dizziness clouded her vision. Unable to go any further, she banged frantically on the door to room 1818.
"Open up! Please, help me!"
A tall man opened the door, and Natalie didn’t even get a good look at him—like grabbing a lifeline, she collapsed into his chest.
"Help... me..."
And passed out cold.
The man stood there, a chill in his expression, his eyes sharp and distant.
Out of instinct, he tried to push her away. He’d seen this kind of act too many times—women finding all sorts of ways to get close to him.
But when he looked down and saw the face of the woman in his arms, something flickered deep inside him.
She looked... familiar.
Her limp figure was already sliding downward, and he caught her without thinking, holding her by the waist, steadying her effortlessly.
So light...
He stared at the unconscious girl in his arms, brows locked in thought.
That face... where had he seen her before?
As he turned to head back inside, a furious yell echoed behind him.
"Hey! You, stop right there!"
It was the old man, storming down the hall wearing only boxers, one hand pressing a towel against his bleeding head.
What a pathetic sight. The man glanced at him and scoffed—he already had a clear idea of what had gone down.
He looked again at the woman in his arms, and a distinct, almost hidden curve appeared on his otherwise indifferent face.
She’d smashed that guy’s head open.
This girl... interesting.