Chapter 78
The hot water cascaded from above, sluicing over tense muscles in a futile attempt to wash away the day's fatigue and the simmering irritation in her soul.
Elizabeth stood with her eyes closed, letting the stream beat down on her.
The sounds from the adjacent stall, however, stubbornly pierced through the rush of water, drilling into her ears. It began with suppressed gasps and the rhythmic slap of bodies colliding, then gradually, a woman's moans sharpened into clarity.
Elizabeth's brow furrowed. She decided to rinse off quickly and get out. This place attracted all sorts, and she had no interest in being an unwilling audience to a live porn show.
But then, a man's voice, raspy and laced with a braggart's edge, cut through. Though he tried to keep it low, excitement made it unnervingly distinct. "Tell me, who's better? Me or Mr. Smith?"
Mr. Smith?
Elizabeth's hand, which had been soaping her arm, paused for a fraction of a second. The sound of the shower masked the minuscule hesitation.
The woman's voice became even more cloying, her breathy moans a calculated performance of pleasure. "Of course, it's you… Mr. Smith… he could never compare to you… Oh, you're going to kill me…"
Mr. Smith?
Which Mr. Smith? This training center was a Smith family enterprise. For anyone here to casually refer to Mr. Smith, he could only mean Jacob.
A near-scornful curve touched Elizabeth's lips.
This woman would say anything to please the man on top of her.
The few times she had been with Jacob, it had been like being caught in a hurricane, an experience defined by absolute control and an unyielding force that threatened to pull her apart at the seams.
That raw power and predatory nature were not something an ordinary man could even begin to replicate. The man next door, judging by his voice alone, was all bluster and no substance.
She didn't want to listen to such dirty conversations anymore, so she turned off the water and picked up the bath towel.
Perhaps the sudden silence from her stall alerted them to her presence.
After a brief quiet, the man seemed to grow even more aroused. The impacts suddenly became heavier, carrying a kind of defiant ferocity. The woman's moans and sycophantic praise rose in pitch, as if Elizabeth's presence had become an aphrodisiac for their performance.
"I'm coming, baby, give it all to me."
Expressionless, Elizabeth dried herself and slipped into clean clothes. Her movements were crisp and efficient, devoid of any hesitation or awkwardness, as if the noises from the next stall were nothing more than meaningless static.
Just as she pulled open her stall door, the one next to it swung open as well.
A man, reasonably tall but with a sleazy glint in his eyes, emerged with a naked woman draped over his arm.
He hadn't even bothered to pull on his pants, his now-limp member on full display.
His face was a mask of smug satisfaction, and his eyes lit up as they landed on Elizabeth, raking over her from head to toe. He grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth.
"Hey, beautiful, all done?" He asked, his tone dripping with sleaze. "Get a good listen? Pretty impressive, right?"
The woman in his arms giggled along, but her gaze on Elizabeth held a flicker of jealousy and hostility.
Elizabeth didn't even bother to lift her gaze, treating them as if they were two inconvenient pockets of air.
She walked straight to the mirror, tidied her damp hair, picked up her gym bag, and turned to leave.
It was a complete and utter dismissal.
The man's smile froze on his face. To be so thoroughly ignored, especially right after boasting of his prowess, was a stinging humiliation.
"Hey, I'm talking to you! You deaf?" He snapped, raising his voice to reclaim his bruised ego.
Elizabeth's pace didn't falter. She had already reached the entrance to the showers. Just as the man thought she would continue to ignore him and was about to step forward to block her path, she suddenly turned her head. Her gaze, sharp and cold as an ice pick, found him.
It was a look of pure, condescending disdain.
The man was pinned in place by that glare, the words he wanted to say catching in his throat as a strange chill crept up his spine.
Elizabeth's eyes lingered on his face for less than a second before sweeping over the woman beside him, who was now scrambling to get dressed. The corner of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, a silent mockery.
She didn't say a single word.
But that silent contempt was more devastating than any insult.
She turned and left, her footsteps echoing with a clear, steady rhythm down the corridor until they faded completely. In the shower room, only the man, his face a mottled mix of purple and white, and the woman, her expression a cocktail of embarrassment and lingering fear, remained.
In that one instant, they had both understood with chilling clarity: that woman was not from their world. That icy aura was not something a regular gym-goer possessed.
The man spat on the floor and muttered a curse, but his earlier bravado had utterly evaporated. He and the woman threw on their clothes and left in a hurry.
The Gage's office was on the top floor of the training center's main building, offering a panoramic view. The decor was a stark, powerful blend of black and gray.
Gage Rodriguez was a bald, heavily muscled man in his forties with sharp, perceptive eyes. A former legend of the underground fighting circuit, he had been recruited by Jacob to manage the Stellar Training Center.
When Elizabeth knocked and entered, Gage was polishing an antique military knife.
He set it down upon seeing her and stood up. His demeanor wasn't warm, but it held a baseline of respect. "Ms. Windsor. Was the training session satisfactory? I've already dealt with Darren. I can assure you he won't be bothering you again."
Darren's uncle may have been a shareholder, but under Jacob's absolute authority and Gage's direct management, Darren was lucky to have kept both his legs.
"The training was fine," Elizabeth said, walking to the front of his desk. She made no move to sit, cutting straight to the point. "Mr. Rodriguez, it seems there are some hygiene and security issues in the Stellar Training Center's female locker room."
Gage arched an eyebrow. "Oh? What kind of issues, specifically?"
"A man entered the women's area," Elizabeth stated, her tone flat, as if reporting a simple fact. "Just now, while I was in a shower stall, a man and a woman were engaged in activities unrelated to training in the stall next to mine. The man explicitly asked his partner who was better in bed: him or Mr. Smith."
Gage's polishing motion stopped. His eyes darkened.
Dragging Mr. Smith's name into something so vulgar changed the nature of the problem entirely.
But his face quickly smoothed back into a professional, diplomatic mask, tinged with a dismissive sort of smoothness. "Is that so? That's an oversight on my part. Rest assured, Ms. Windsor, I'll have someone check the security footage and increase patrols. I'll make sure a minor incident like this won't disturb you again."
"A minor incident?" Elizabeth repeated the words. Her tone didn't change, but it was enough to make Gage's smile fade slightly.
"Mr. Rodriguez," Elizabeth took half a step forward, her fingers tapping lightly on the cold, solid wood of his desk. The sound was a rhythmic, oppressive thump-thump-thump. "I don't need a solution for later. I need one now. The Stellar Training Center is a Smith family property, and it's where I am currently training. I don't want to hear anything sordid here, especially not when it involves Mr. Smith. It does no good for the Center's reputation."
Gage looked at the young woman before him, her presence far more commanding than her age would suggest.
He had heard things about her, knew she held a special place in Mr. Smith's attention. But in his eyes, a woman was still a woman, especially a beautiful one who depended on a man for her lifestyle. A little bit of temper and fussiness was to be expected.
He set down the polishing cloth and leaned back into his large leather executive chair. His smile shifted, adopting the placating, almost condescending tone men often use with each other. "Ms. Windsor, I understand your feelings. But these things, you know, they take a little time to investigate. This place has a lot of foot traffic; you're always going to get a few rats slipping through the cracks. You just focus on your training, enjoy yourself. Leave these messy details to me. I promise I'll give you a satisfactory resolution, alright?"