Vivian perched stiffly on the edge of the bed, careful to keep a cautious distance between herself and Sammy. The room was oppressive, decorated in gaudy velvet and dimly illuminated by colored LED lights. She nervously smoothed the lace lingerie, eyes flickering repeatedly toward the locked door, desperately willing Noah to hurry.

  Sammy lounged lazily on the plush velvet sofa opposite, openly savoring the view. He swirled the last of his wine and drained it, setting the empty glass down with a faint clink.

  Vivian glanced at the clock. Five minutes, she thought.

  “We’ll be using a stronger dose, in port —which has higher alcohol content, so you just need to hold him off for five minutes,” Noah had explained. “You think you can, Viv?”

  And she had nodded, clutching the phone left by Vince’s killer. Five minutes, in exchange for more leads on what happened. Five minutes, to find out more about where Serena might be.

  “So,” Sammy drawled thickly, licking his lips, eyes gleaming greedily, “what’s your name, pretty thing?”

  Vivian swallowed hard, heart hammering, but slipped easily into the prepared role. “Jane,” she murmured softly, timidly dropping her gaze.

  “Jane,” Sammy echoed, rolling the name on his tongue, amused. "And how exactly did you end up here, Jane?”

  Vivian lowered her eyes further, projecting a carefully rehearsed vulnerability. “M-my dad gambled…” Her voice trembled convincingly—though, in truth, her fear wasn’t really an act.

  Sammy chuckled softly, a grotesque sound deep in his throat. "You poor thing,” he drawled, pushing his heavy frame up from the sofa. “That must’ve been tough. Come here, sweetheart, let me give you a hug. It'll make you feel better."

  Alarm jolted through her veins. Vivian scrambled to her feet, quickly darting to the opposite side of the room, her voice pitching higher in panic. "U-uh, w-wait—!"

  But as she moved, Vivian realized something was horribly wrong. Her legs felt strangely heavy, weak. Wobbly.

  Panic surged as clarity struck. Mochi’s venomous gaze flashed vividly in her mind. Shit.

  Sammy lumbered toward her, his meaty fingers closing tightly around her arm. "Now, now, don't play hard to get," he grunted, dragging her toward the bed. "I'm gentle, I promise."

  Vivian struggled, heart thundering in terrified desperation, but her limbs refused to respond properly, and the room began to spin sickeningly.

  Suddenly, a shrill alarm pierced the air, harsh and disorienting. Sammy halted, his flushed face twisting in irritation.

  "What the fuck is that?" he growled, glaring suspiciously toward the door as muffled announcements crackled through hidden speakers, mentioning an unspecified security alert.

  In one of the empty suites nearby, Noah stiffened, instincts instantly on high alert. He stepped towards the door, urgency surging, but Mochi suddenly appeared, expression convincingly anxious.

  "Noah! Someone activated the alarm, " she whispered urgently, gripping his arm tightly. "Sammy extra guys are coming now! They’re sweeping the halls—come this way!"

  She swiftly guided him through the halls into another level, another empty room, hastily shutting and locking the door behind them.

  A cold suspicion gathered, tightening painfully around Noah’s chest. "Mochi," he said slowly, voice dangerously calm, "what’s going on?"

  Mochi stepped close, pressing herself familiarly against him, eyes half-lidded, her voice a breathy whisper. "Just some extra security. Let’s wait here until they pass—it won’t be long." Her hands traveled smoothly down his body, attempting seductive familiarity. "We can occupy ourselves a little in the meantime."

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Noah’s reaction was immediate and harsh. He pushed her away roughly, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "What the fuck are you doing?"

  As he turned toward the door, Mochi grabbed his arm desperately. Realization hit Noah instantly—she was deliberately stalling him. Fury surged uncontrollably, and he spun, pinning Mochi violently against the wall, a knife suddenly glinting at her throat.

  "What the fuck did you do, Mochi?" he snarled, his voice raw and menacing.

  Mochi’s eyes widened in terror, and she stammered quickly, fearfully, "Nothing serious! I-I just added a little something to her drink too! It won’t hurt her, just... Sammy might rough her up a bit. Maybe you’d like her better if she wasn't so fucking perfect—"

  A feral growl escaped Noah’s throat, cutting her words short as he shoved her aside, storming from the room, his rage burning ice-cold and lethal.

  Noah moved through the corridor swiftly, his heartbeat a ruthless drumbeat driving him forward. He’d memorized the layout, every hidden corridor, every maintenance hallway. Instinctively, he bypassed the electronically sealed doors, slipping effortlessly into the narrow service passage behind a concealed staff entrance.

  His footsteps echoed sharply on the concrete floor as he navigated the dimly lit passageway. Adrenaline surged through him, sharpening every sense. Ahead, a startled club employee turned, eyes widening at the intruder. Noah didn’t hesitate; before the man could react, Noah slammed an elbow viciously into his temple, dropping him silently onto the hard ground. There was no room for mercy, no time for second guesses.

  He could almost hear Vivian’s voice, the brief vulnerability in her gaze earlier, the way she'd looked back at him in that change room—an expression that haunted him now with brutal clarity. Her hesitant smile back in his apartment when he handed her the bowl of noodles, and their constant debates, playful yet sharp, rose vividly in his mind. Beneath it all, another face emerged from his memories, unbidden yet painfully familiar: wide eyes filled with defiance, a small frame holding incredible strength.

  “Fucking idiot,” he hissed under his breath, the curse aimed at himself. Fury boiled beneath his skin, dark and uncontrollable. If Sammy had crossed that line, he would ensure both he and Mochi regretted it—thoroughly, methodically, and without any room for misunderstanding.

  His thoughts were disrupted by voices ahead. Only two of Sammy’s men stood tense outside the private suite, alerted but unsure of the exact nature of the threat. Noah moved silently, a predator. He drew the knife he kept on himself for emergencies, gripping it tightly. In fluid movement, he seized the first guard from behind, driving the knife deep into his neck and wrenching it forward with cold precision, cutting through flesh and cartilage. The man’s gasp died instantly, blood staining Noah’s hands warm and slick.

  The second man spun around in shock, fumbling for his weapon. Noah surged forward, slamming his fist into the man's throat and crushing his windpipe with ruthless accuracy. The man collapsed to his knees, choking, but Noah caught him by the hair. He jerked the man’s head back, exposing his throat, then swiftly drew his knife across it.

  Standing before Sammy’s locked door, Noah’s breath came hard, chest heaving. A digital keypad blinked at him mockingly. With no time or patience to bypass it, Noah grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher, swinging it fiercely at the handle, channeling his wrath into each blow. The metal cracked against the heavy door, the impact resonating through his bones.

  Inside the room, Vivian fought desperately against Sammy’s heavy weight. She clawed at him, pushing weakly against his thick, sweaty body, screaming hoarsely for help. He pawed roughly at her exposed skin, his movements crude and forceful. Vivian twisted, sinking her teeth deeply into Sammy's hand.

  “You bitch!” Sammy roared, rage contorting his flushed features. His heavy hand crashed across her face with stunning force. Vivian’s head snapped to the side, vision swimming violently. Her limbs felt disconnected, weak and useless. The room blurred and spun around her. In a daze, she felt Sammy tear impatiently at the delicate lace lingerie.

  As her consciousness began slipping, despair tightened her chest. Noah, you bastard.

  Noah swung the fire extinguisher heavily into the door. The first strike reverberated painfully up his arms, denting the wood near the handle but barely loosening it. He struck again, feeling the doorframe splinter slightly beneath the blow. On the third strike, the wood cracked sharply around the lock, weakening. Breathing harshly, Noah delivered one final, decisive hit, causing the weakened lock to tear free from its frame. The door swung violently inward, splinters and paint flakes scattering across the floor.

  Sammy barely had time to react before Noah hurtled forward, seizing him with raw, unbridled fury and wrenching him away from Vivian. The heavy man crashed onto the floor, his skull bouncing sickeningly against it. Before Sammy could even gasp for breath, Noah was on him, pinning him down, fists slamming relentlessly into his face. Each blow landed with a savage, bone-crushing precision. One blow after another rained down, driven by a rage so intense it was almost inhuman —unhinged, unstoppable.