Zhao Qing slowly opened her eyes. Everything around her seemed to be shrouded in a hazy mist. Her consciousness was as if it were wrapped in thick clouds, making it difficult to penetrate.
The business suit she was wearing, which she usually carefully selected to showcase the competence and elegance of a working woman, now looked disheveled.
Her skirt was crumpled and twisted into a ball, and several buttons on her shirt had come undone, revealing the slightly disheveled collar of her shirt. Her hair was draped loosely over her shoulders, with a few strands clinging to her cheeks, showing signs of sweat and fatigue.
Her lips were chapped, and her throat felt like it had been roasted, so dry that she could barely make a sound.
I tried to recall everything from last night, but my memory was like a shattered mirror, with fragments scattered all over the ground, unable to piece together a complete picture.
She only remembered being at some event, perhaps a banquet, perhaps a party, and then... and then what? She tried to recall, but only felt a sharp headache coming on, making her thoughts even more chaotic.
As her vision cleared, Zhao Qing found herself in a luxuriously decorated private room. The room was dimly lit and ambiguously lit, and the air was filled with an indescribable atmosphere, a mixture of tobacco, alcohol, and some more secretive and unsettling scent.
There were many people standing in the private room, all men. Their figures appeared blurry and tall in the dim light, but their gazes were like searchlights, all focused on her, with naked scrutiny and desire.
An indescribable fear welled up in Zhao Qing's heart. She tried to sit up, but found her body limp, as if all her strength had been drained away.
She then realized that she was lying on a large table, a table originally used for serving food or conducting business negotiations, but now it had become the stage for her helplessness and despair.
Her vision was still somewhat blurry, but it was enough for her to make out the expressions of the onlookers—greed, excitement, and even a kind of cruel pleasure at impending success.
Among these faces, one person stands out in particular: Young Master Du.
He stood at the very front of the crowd, wearing a tailored suit that accentuated his tall and slender figure.
However, his eyes, like those of a hungry wolf in the abyss, gleamed with a greedy and cunning light, as if he already considered her his for the taking.
Zhao Qing's heart sank. She knew very well who Young Master Du was—a figure with considerable influence in both the legitimate and criminal worlds, and her organization was secretly preparing to arrest him.
A playful smile curled at the corner of Young Master Du's lips, a smile that, in Zhao Qing's eyes, was more terrifying than any threat.
He slowly approached, each step feeling like it was treading on Zhao Qing's heart, making her feel an unprecedented sense of oppression.
“What a pleasant surprise, Miss Zhao.” His voice was deep and magnetic, yet carried an undeniable threat. “I never expected that we would meet in this way.”
Zhao Qing tried to speak, but found that her throat was as if it were locked, and she could only make weak gasps.
She tried to struggle, but her hands were bound by an invisible fear, and she could not move.
She realized that she had fallen into an elaborate trap, and the mastermind behind it was likely one of the people she trusted most.
Betrayal, a word I once only saw in movies, has now happened to me in such a real and cruel way.
The men around Young Master Du all wore sinister smiles, their eyes filled with lust for Zhao Qing's body and anticipation for the "good show" that was about to unfold.
They exchanged glances, as if silently communicating their plans, every subtle movement revealing their contempt and manipulation of Zhao Qing.
“Miss Zhao, don’t worry, I will take good care of you.” Young Master Du’s words were tinged with mockery. He gently patted Zhao Qing’s cheek, a touch that made Zhao Qing feel nauseous.
She closed her eyes, trying to find a glimmer of light in the darkness, a glimmer of hope for escape, but everything around her was so hopeless, so cold.
Zhao Qing lay helplessly on the cold table, as if the surrounding noise had been shut out. Her world consisted only of her heavy breathing and heartbeat.
Every heartbeat felt like a reminder of how cruel and hopeless reality was.
She tried to look around for help, but the men only responded with even more greedy and cold eyes, as if mocking her helplessness and weakness.
Young Master Du's voice, like the whisper of a demon, echoed in Zhao Qing's ears.
"A beauty like this deserves to be pampered. We can't let her go to waste. Haha, everyone gets a share." His tone was full of desire and possessiveness towards Zhao Qing's body, as if she were just a plaything that could be manipulated and shared at will.
Zhao Qing felt nauseous and wanted to vomit, but her body felt like it was nailed to the table, unable to move.
As soon as Young Master Du finished speaking, the people in the private room echoed him, their laughter and words like sharp blades, cutting into Zhao Qing's heart piece by piece.
She felt her dignity and self-respect being ruthlessly trampled upon, and she was powerless to do anything about it. Her tears slid silently down her cheeks, dripping onto the cold tabletop, instantly evaporating into an invisible sorrow.
"Let the boss enjoy himself first, then we'll go inside." Young Master Du said as he walked towards Zhao Qing, his eyes filled with lewdness and smugness.
Zhao Qing felt a surge of intense fear and despair. She knew what she was about to face, but she couldn't escape this nightmare.
Just then, the door to the private room was suddenly opened, and a blinding beam of light pierced the darkness inside.
Zhao Qing barely opened her eyes and saw two people standing at the door, a man and a woman.
The man was tall and imposing, with a firm and resolute gaze; the woman, on the other hand, appeared elegant and composed. She wore a black suit, the hem of which swayed gently with her steps, as if carrying an indescribable power.
Young Master Du's lecherous gaze was instantly drawn to the woman at the door. He automatically ignored Zhang Fan's presence and fixed his eyes on Wen Xi.
Wen Xi's beauty is a sophisticated kind of beauty; her temperament and demeanor are impossible to ignore. A glint of greed and desire flashed in Young Master Du's eyes; he seemed to have spotted a new prey.
"Little beauty, let your brother enjoy himself first, then I'll come find you." Young Master Du said as he continued walking towards Zhao Qing, as if the two strangers at the door didn't exist at all.
His arrogance and conceit blinded him to potential threats, which also put him in a more dangerous situation.
However, Wen Xi ignored Young Master Du's provocation and followed Zhang Fan in directly.
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