Chapter 19 The Strange Text Message
Walking down the winding, narrow corridor, Candice’s nerves were stretched taut. She kept glancing behind her.
This hotel was eerily quiet. She hadn’t seen a single staff member.
The silence was… unsettling.
After a while, seeing no one following her, she gradually relaxed.
Maybe she was overthinking it. If Caroline Jenkins really wanted to resort to something dirty, she would’ve done so
earlier there was no need to wait until Candice was the one asking to leave her son.
Sure, Caroline was stingy about the compensation, but this kind of money was mere pocket change to the Jackson
family. Caroline couldn’t possibly be this stupid.
Up ahead, just a bit more walking would bring her back to the main lobby where she entered earlier.
Candice took out her phone to check the time.
7:40 PM.
Just about time to contact Jim. She started typing a message: I’m here, at…
She hadn’t finished the last two words when a female staff member in a black uniform suddenly turned the corner and
bumped into her.
“Oh–I’m so sorry! Excuse me!” the woman quickly apologized, reaching out to steady her.
“It’s fine, I’m okay. You don’t nee—”
Candice didn’t even get to finish her sentence when a sharp, cold sting pierced the side of her neck. Her heart sank as
dizziness overwhelmed her. She instinctively tried to push away, but her vision was already blurring.
The woman’s lips curled into a chilling smile.
“Oh dear, are you alright, miss?” she cooed sweetly, “Which suite are you staying in? Over that way? Alright then, let me
help you back.”
She answered her own questions and began dragging Candice toward a more secluded hallway.
“H… help…”
Candice’s mind spiraled in terror.
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Her strength was vanishing rapidly. Even her cries were reduced to strained, muffled gasps. The world around her blurred and faded, like her soul had been sucked into a bottomless pit.
Someone… please… help…
She remembered the phone she had kept in her coat pocket after being bumped. The unfinished message was still on the
screen. Summoning every ounce of strength she had, she reached down with trembling fingers.
She typed blindly, guided only by instinct, and hit send.
Elsewhere in the hotel.
Charlie had just finished a meeting with a client and was resting in the courtyard, eyes closed.
He was slightly buzzed from a few drinks. The night breeze teased his hair, brushing over his sharp brow line before
settling again.
Ding–ding-
The peaceful silence was broken by the sound of a message notification.
Jim, standing nearby, checked his phone. He’d been waiting for Candice’s message, and when he saw it was from her, he
smiled.
But as he read, his brow furrowed.
“Young Master,” he said.
“What is it?” Charlie opened his eyes.
Jim leaned down and handed him the phone. “Miss Hale said she arrived, but… the last two words look odd. Can you take
a look?”
Charlie glanced at the message:
“I’m here, at xx.”
what?
He stared for a moment, then frowned deeply. His eyes sharpened with sudden realization.
Without a word, he tapped the screen to initiate a video call.
Jim was confused. “Young Master, you-”
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Chapter 19 The Strange Text Message
Charlie motioned for silence.
The video connected.
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What they saw was a dim, blurry orange–gray hue. If one listened carefully, there were footsteps… the sound of shoes
dragging… and rapid, broken breathing.
“Hel… help…”
The voice trailed off into muffled sobs.
Something was wrong.
Charlie ended the call. His expression was grim. “Ask the hotel if Candice checked in.”
Jim quickly called the front desk and got a reply: “Around 7 PM, a young woman matching her description said she had an appointment and dropped off a suit… After that, she disappeared.”
Charlie stood up instantly.
With a chilling calmness, he dialed a number and strode off with swift purpose.
Inside a dimly lit room.
Candice was thrown onto a large bed.
Around her stood a group of half–naked men wrapped in towels, their leering eyes and grotesque grins oozing depravity. At the foot of the bed was a collection of horrifying “toys,” including syringes filled with unknown substances.
“Don’t… come… any closer…”
Paralyzed with terror, Candice trembled uncontrollably. She tried to support herself with one arm, only to collapse again. As the men approached, she desperately tried to crawl backward with her limp legs.
“What a beauty.”
“Look at that face, that body–absolute perfection.”
“Her man’s brutal–paid us to break her. Can you believe it? Who’d give up such a treasure?”
The woman posing as a hotel staffer rummaged through Candice’s bag and pulled out a contract. Holding a stamp pad, she walked over, seized Candice’s hand, and pressed it down.
“She’s not getting a dime from her husband in the divorce. He said to play rough and record everything.”
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Candice’s mind exploded with shock.
It was… Kyle?
No.
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No, it can’t be!
She groped blindly for her phone again. Dropping it once… twice… She finally grabbed it and dialed his number.
She needed to ask. She had to hear it from him.
Someone tried to snatch the phone, but the woman with the contract waved them off. “Let her call.”
First call: Kyle rejected.
Second call: rejected again.
Third time–it connected. But the voice that answered wasn’t his.
It was Mia Jones.
“Big Kyle doesn’t want to talk to you.”
She giggled gleefully. “By the way, did you like the men we picked out for you? One of them’s even got AIDS. Surprise!”
“We’ll give you a little booster with some drugs in a bit.”
“Tomorrow, the whole world will see the footage of you getting railed by eight men. Your parents, your friends—
everyone will know what a filthy whore you are.”
Oh, and to celebrate, Kyle and I will announce our engagement tomorrow. You’ll get nothing. Not a cent. No justice. ven if you go to the police, it’s useless. In Vanclyn, our families can crush you like an ant.‘
“How does that feel? I stole your man, your job, and now I’m destroying you. But too bad–I’m going to live happily ever
after.”
“As for you? You’ll die slowly… in pain… and alone. lol-‘
Mia’s maniacal laughter echoed through the phone.
Candice’s phone slipped from her ear.
A wave of fury and anguish tore through her like blades, ripping apart her chest and gut.
But she didn’t feel pain. She didn’t want to cry.
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She just wanted… to stand up.
Even if she died and became a ghost, she would kill them.
“Alright, boys,” the woman at the foot of the bed said, turning on a camera. “Have your fun. Don’t hold back.”
All eight men descended upon her.
“Get… off…”
Candice weakly grabbed a pillow, but she didn’t even have the strength to lift it.
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Her hands were bound to the headboard, her legs pinned down. Dozens of hands reached for her, tearing at her clothes
A grotesque, obese man climbed onto the bed, gleefully holding a syringe.
Just as he raised it and aimed for her thigh-
Candice closed her eyes…
And bit down on her tongue with every ounce of strength left in her.
At the door-
The lock clicked.
