Niamh sensed Daniel’s intentions and spun around, desperate to run, but his bulky frame blocked her escape.
She tried to smash a bottle over his head, just as she’d done before, but this time the bottle slipped from her trembling hand and crashed to the floor.
She stared at her palm in disbelief–her fingers wouldn’t obey her, and everything seemed to blur and double.
“Finally taking effect, huh? Took long enough…”
Daniel’s voice sounded distant and distorted in her ears as Niamh felt her consciousness slipping away.
He’d drugged her.
The realization struck too late for her to do anything about it, and regret crashed over her in a sickening wave.
She should never have come to this dinner.
The room spun wildly around her. Heat roared through her veins, leaving her drenched in sweat and burning up, her cheeks flaming.
“Getting hot, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll help you… You’ll feel much cooler once we get these clothes off…”
Daniel rubbed his hands together and grabbed Niamh, who had collapsed to her
knees.
***
Hospital.
Inpatient wing.
Marina lay in bed, hospital gown bunched around her as she frowned at Jonathan.
“Preston Winslow totally overreacted. It’s just a couple scrapes–he made it sound like I was dying. You drove over here in the middle of the night. What if you got stopped?”
“I’m fine,” Jonathan replied, pouring her a glass of water and handing it over. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Tears shimmered in Marina’s eyes. She knew Jonathan hadn’t hesitated–he’d raced
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straight to the hospital as soon as he heard about her accident, not even caring about the risk of getting caught driving after a drink.
“I’ll go check if your test results are ready,” he said, heading out of the room.
Marina didn’t stop him, but she knew perfectly well that all the reports were delivered directly to the attending physician–patients never needed to collect them themselves.
At the end of the corridor, Jonathan tried calling Prescott.
No answer.
***
The Celestia Palace Hotel
Presidential Suite 2408
Niamh fought with everything she had, but Daniel threw her onto the bed with ease. She was burning up from the drugs, her entire body slick with sweat and feverish. Her cheeks stung–Daniel had slapped her several times, the pain snapping her back to herself, if only for a moment.
That pain was the only thing keeping her from fading into the haze.
She heard voices–someone was speaking–but she couldn’t move.
She couldn’t muster a single ounce of strength. Desire and confusion roared inside her, clouding her mind.
It wasn’t until someone touched her that she managed to choke out a protest, purely on instinct:
“Don’t… don’t touch me…”
But Daniel didn’t stop. If anything, he became more aggressive, stripping away her clothes piece by piece.
“No…”
Please… someone help me…
Help me…
Niamh screamed inwardly, over and over, as the helplessness and the drugs ravaged her body and mind.
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She was out of options.
There would be no escape tonight.
She knew what Daniel was going to do.
His weight pressed down on her. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes, sliding silently down her cheeks.
As Niamh’s last thread of consciousness unraveled, she managed one final,
desperate cry:
Help me!
Jonathan-
***
Across the street, in a room facing Suite 2408, the lights were off.
But someone was there.
A figure stood at the window, camera in hand, filming.
***
The next morning, several employees at The Thomas Group didn’t show up.
Prescott was nursing a hangover.
Marina was recovering from the accident.
‘Both had called in.
But Niamh hadn’t arrived by lunchtime, and she hadn’t requested time off. Calls and WhatsApp messages from coworkers went unanswered.
Eventually, they marked her as absent without leave.
***
That afternoon, Niamh woke in a hotel bed.
She was naked beneath the tangled sheets. The room was a chaotic mess–evidence of everything that had happened, unmistakable and raw.
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Chapter 109
Chapter 109
