Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“What?” Anna asked.

“I don’t see Sam anywhere,” Michelle said, scanning the room. “This is a problem. Grandpa’s going to be mad if he doesn’t show up soon.”

Anna bit her lip. “It’s fine. He just texted me. He’s in room twenty.”

“Did you call him?”

Anna frowned and dialed his number. No answer. She glanced at Michelle.

Michelle also tried, but Sam’s phone went straight to voicemail.

“This isn’t good,” Michelle whispered. “If he doesn’t come down soon, things will get awkward.”

“I’ll send someone to go get him,” Anna said.

“No,” Michelle cut in. “You should go yourself. That way, you both walk in together. Make it special.”

Anna hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.”

She began to walk toward the hallway leading to the elevators. As she moved, a strange wave of weakness washed over her. Her knees felt shaky, and her vision blurred for a second. She grabbed the wall to steady herself.

She shook her head. “Maybe the drink hit harder than I thought,” she whispered to herself.

Still, she kept walking. Slowly but surely, she reached the elevator and pressed the button. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she made her way down the quiet hallway until she got to room twenty.

Meanwhile, Colby’s brief meeting with Henry Duke had just come to an end.

Colby stood up, brushing imaginary lint off his sleeves. “I better get going before my wife starts complaining,” he said, glancing at the time.

Henry waved a hand dismissively. “Go on, lover boy. I’ll be here a bit longer. Got a few documents to review.”

Colby chuckled. “Still working on your big empire, huh?”

“Not exactly,” Henry muttered, flipping through some papers. “Turns out my nephew is having his engagement party here tonight. In this very hotel. Can you believe that?”

Colby blinked. “Wait, you’re related to the groom?”

Henry scoffed. “Unfortunately. Just thinking about it makes me sick.”

Colby laughed. “You’re a weird man, Henry.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

With a shake of his head and a small smirk, Colby walked out of the suite, making his way back to the ballroom.

Inside the room, Henry dropped the folder and stretched his arms. Just then, his phone rang, it was his assistant.

“Yes?” Henry answered.

“Sir, the escorts are ready.”

Henry sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Perfect,” he muttered, then looked down at the documents again. “What am I even doing here?”

He stood, tossed the papers aside, and grabbed his jacket. “I have somewhere more interesting to be.”

He opened the door and stepped out, heading for the exit.

At that same moment, Anna finally reached room twenty.

She knocked softly, then pushed the door open—it wasn’t locked.

But as soon as it creaked open and she stepped inside, she froze.

A man stood in the center of the room. He wasn’t Sam.

He was much older, probably in his late thirties. His build was bulky, and he wore a strange smirk on his face, as though he’d been expecting her.

Anna glanced back at the number on the door—Room twenty. It was correct.

“I’m… sorry,” she said, stepping back. “Wrong room.”

She turned to leave, but before she could take a step, the man grabbed her wrist.

“Let go,” she said quickly, trying to pull away.

He tightened his grip.

“Let go of me!” she cried, panic rising in her voice.

Before she could scream louder, he shoved the door shut behind her and tried to drag her inside. Anna kicked and twisted, struggling with all her might, but the man was too strong.

She tried to scream again, but her voice was weak, fading.

The drink.

Something was wrong. Her head spun. Her knees wobbled.

She didn’t know it yet, but the drink Michelle gave her had been laced with something—something that was now flooding her system and making her weaker by the second.

Still, she fought back, clutching the doorframe as he tried to pull her away. Her dress tore at the side, ripping apart until only her bra and underwear remained covering her top half.

She was still struggling when Henry rounded the corner.

He slowed his pace, pausing when he heard the faint sound of struggling.

He turned just in time to see the man pulling the girl into the room and tearing at her clothes.

For a second, Henry told himself to keep walking.

Maybe it’s a lovers’ fight. None of my business.

But then he heard her cry—desperate, raw.

He stopped, clenched his jaw, and turned around.

Before the door could close completely, Henry pushed it open with a firm shove.

The man stumbled back in surprise.

Without a word, Henry landed a solid punch to his jaw.

The man fell against the dresser, then tried to get up, but Henry threw two more blows straight to his face.

“You should learn when a woman says no,” Henry said coldly.

He turned to Anna, who was shivering in the corner, trying to cover herself as her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Her makeup was smudged, and her eyes were glassy. She looked completely out of it.

Henry stared at her for a long second, shook his head, and began to walk away.

But just as he reached the door, he heard a soft thud behind him.

He turned sharply.

Anna was on the floor, collapsed.

She had fainted.

Henry stared at her, stunned. “You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered.