As Sally and Patricia entered the club, they could feel the weight of the silence hanging over them. It was almost like the air itself was charged with tension. The clock ticked away mercilessly in the background. 7:15.

Their eyes darted toward Nate's office. He was sitting behind his desk, looking at the computer screen, his posture stiff and formal. His eyes flickered over the girls, and he immediately locked onto them, like a predator catching sight of prey.

"Patricia," he said in a low, icy voice, his gaze never leaving her. "You're late. Again."

Sally felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she watched Patricia's face fall. She had tried to warn Sam, tried to keep things under control, but deep down, she knew this wasn't going to end well.

Patricia, ever the confident one, squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. "It's not like we meant to be late. We were—"

"You're late." Nate interrupted, his voice clipped, and he didn't move from his seat. "That's all that matters."

Sally's heart pounded. She could already feel the weight of his gaze on her, too, even though he hadn't addressed her yet. The anticipation made her chest tighten.

Patricia stood tall for a moment before her shoulders slumped, clearly realizing there was no getting out of this. She glared at Nate, her eyes flashing with defiance, but it was no use. She had instigated Sam's delay, and she was going to pay the price.

"Patricia," Nate spoke again, his voice even quieter, almost too calm. "Since you're the one who pushed her to stay out, I think it's only fair that you bear the consequences."

Patricia's eyes widened, but before she could say a word, Nate stood and was behind her in an instant, his movements sharp and deliberate.

Without warning, he grabbed her by the arm, twisting it painfully behind her back, and yanked her toward the back of the club.

Sally froze, her heart leaping into her throat as she watched Patricia try to wriggle free. She wasn't about to cry out—Patricia would never show weakness, even in this situation—but her clenched fists were a clear sign that she was struggling.

"Don't!" Sally pleaded, stepping forward helplessly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Nate, don't—"

Nate didn't even look at her. "You're next, Sally, but Patricia's already been disrespectful enough," he said coldly, his voice laced with venom.

He then turned his attention to Patricia, whose defiance was slowly cracking as she struggled in Nate's grasp. His hand tightened on her arm, and he pushed her onto the floor with brutal force, pinning her down. Patricia bit back a scream, her face turning red with the exertion, but she didn't make a sound.

Sally flinched, her hands trembling at her sides. She wanted to help, wanted to stop him, but her body refused to move.

Nate stood above Patricia, looking down at her with a satisfied expression. "You don't push the boundaries, Patricia. You never push them."

Patricia looked up at him, her face a mixture of defiance and fear. "I'm not sorry," she spat, but the trembling in her voice betrayed her.

Nate's smile was chilling. "You will be."

Sally couldn't bear to watch it any longer. She felt the tears welling in her eyes as she turned away, shaking uncontrollably. She wasn't sure whether it was from fear or guilt—or both.

Then, without warning, Nate finally released Patricia, but only to let her struggle to her feet. His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned toward Sally.

Her heart was racing as she stood there, terrified. He was going to punish her next. She couldn't even bring herself to look him in the eye.

But instead of grabbing her like he had Patricia, Nate just stood there, eyeing her with an unsettling calmness.

"Come here," he commanded, his voice low.

Sally hesitated for a moment before inching forward, her legs shaking. "Please, Nate... I'm sorry. We didn't mean to—"

"Enough excuses, Sally," he cut her off. "You've been warned."

Sally looked at Patricia, her face pale and her fists clenched. She knew this was all her fault. She had let things spiral out of control, and now they were paying the price.

Patricia, though bruised and battered, stood up beside Sally, her eyes never leaving Nate. "She didn't do anything," she said, her voice tight with anger. "It was me. I pushed it."

But Nate didn't care. He looked at Sally with an almost clinical detachment. "You both failed. Now, you will face the consequences together."

Sally's breath hitched, and her chest tightened in anticipation of the punishment that was coming.

The air in the club felt stifling, the tension thickening with every passing second. Sally's pulse hammered in her ears as she stood there, feeling as though the world had narrowed down to a single moment, a single choice.

Patricia was still rubbing her arm, glaring at Nate with venomous defiance. But Sally, standing beside her, felt her legs go weak, her entire body trembling. She couldn't even bring herself to look at Nate. The silence was suffocating.

Nate's gaze was unyielding as he turned toward Sally. There was no kindness, no pity, only a cold, calculating look that sent a wave of dread crashing through her chest.

"Come here," Nate repeated, his voice chilling, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Sally hesitated, her eyes darting nervously toward Patricia, who simply shook her head, silently urging her to stay strong. But Sally couldn't summon the courage to resist.

With trembling steps, she approached Nate, her stomach churning with fear. Every part of her wanted to run, wanted to escape this nightmare, but her body refused to obey. She felt as though she was walking toward her own execution.

Nate eyed her carefully, his gaze unflinching. "Do you have any idea what your actions have caused, Sally?"

Sally opened her mouth to apologize, but no words came. Her throat was too tight, the weight of the moment choking her.

Nate took a step forward, closing the space between them. "No excuses. No apologies. I warned you. And now, you will face the consequences."

Without another word, Nate reached out and grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin with punishing force. Sally winced, but she dared not cry out. Her heart pounded in her chest as Nate forced her to kneel in front of him, his grip tightening on her arm.

She tried to hold back the tears, but they began to spill over, dripping down her cheeks. She could feel Patricia's eyes on her, but she didn't dare meet her gaze. Her shame was too great.

Nate's expression was cold, almost emotionless, as he looked down at her. He paused for a moment, as if savoring the power he held over her, before he spoke again, his voice steady but full of menace.

"You think you can escape punishment so easily, Sally? You think you're untouchable?"

Sally shook her head frantically, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "No, Nate, I—I didn't mean to—"

He cut her off, his tone growing darker. "You never do. But your actions have consequences."

Before Sally could react, Nate's hand shot out, grabbing her chin roughly and forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were sharp, like a predator toying with its prey.

And then, just as quickly, his grip loosened, and he stepped back. Sally barely had time to process what was happening before he ordered, "Strip."

The word sent a jolt of panic through her entire body. Sally froze, her mind racing. She couldn't—she couldn't do this.

But Nate's gaze never wavered, cold and commanding. "Now."

Tears welled in Sally's eyes as she hesitated, but she knew there was no escaping. Slowly, with trembling hands, she began to undress, the humiliation of the act burning like fire in her chest.

Patricia stood motionless, her expression a mix of frustration and helplessness. She wanted to intervene, wanted to protect Sally, but she knew the consequences of doing so. She had been here before. She understood.

Once Sally was completely undressed, Nate gave her a satisfied, almost predatory smile. "Good. Now stay like that."

Sally, tears streaming down her face, was forced to remain kneeling, exposed and vulnerable, as Nate and Patricia watched. Every part of her felt degraded, humiliated beyond belief.

But then, to Sally's surprise, Nate walked around her, almost thoughtfully, as if examining her like some kind of object. His hands grazed her skin as he moved, and she recoiled instinctively, but his grip was unyielding.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that if she wished hard enough, the whole scene would vanish, that she'd wake up and everything would be okay.

But it didn't happen. Nate was still there.

"Get up," he commanded.

Sally's legs were trembling as she stood, her body shaking with the weight of the humiliation, the degradation. She tried not to meet Patricia's eyes, unable to bear the judgment she thought she'd see there.

But Patricia didn't look at her with judgment. No, she looked at Sally with an expression that was... almost sad. Almost sympathetic.

"Don't worry, Sally," Patricia whispered softly. "You'll make it through this."

But Sally wasn't so sure. The fear, the shame—it was overwhelming. Would she make it through? Or would this punishment break her?

"Get dressed," Nate said curtly, as if he had already lost interest in her. "You're done."

Sally did as she was told, slipping into her clothes with shaking hands. Her mind was a whirlwind, the weight of the punishment still heavy on her shoulders. It felt like she was walking in a daze, barely able to process what had just happened.

Patricia, her face tense, watched silently as Sally struggled to regain some semblance of composure.

Sally finally looked up at her, her voice barely a whisper. "What's going to happen to me, Patricia? Will I ever be free of this... this nightmare?"

Patricia didn't answer right away. She just stared at her, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and guilt.

"I don't know," she said softly, her voice filled with sorrow. "I really don't know."

Sally's mind was racing, and the weight of what had just happened to her was still fresh on her skin. As she pulled her shirt back on, her hands trembling, a thought gnawed at the edge of her mind. Serena. What was happening to her? Was she okay?

She glanced at Patricia, whose face was drawn, exhaustion settling into her features. They hadn't spoken a word for a while, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

"What do you think's happening with Serena?" Sally asked quietly, the words hanging between them like a heavy fog.

Patricia didn't answer immediately. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, and Sally could see the worry lines etched across her face. They both knew that Serena had been in Nate's sights for far too long, and with everything that had happened to them, it wasn't hard to imagine how Nate's twisted obsession with her could turn even darker.

"I don't know," Patricia muttered, her voice tight with unease. "But I'm scared. Scared for her. She's not... she's not like us. She wasn't ready for this kind of life."

Sally swallowed hard, nodding in agreement. She thought of Serena, the girl who had once been so free and full of life, before Nate got his claws into her. She could only imagine what was going through Serena's head now, what she might be enduring in that cold, empty room under Nate's control.

Suddenly, a shiver ran down Sally's spine. She remembered hearing something... something that made her stomach turn.

She had overheard Nate's thoughts. It had been a fleeting moment, but it hit her like a punch to the gut. Nate's thoughts were twisted, hungry... and they were about Serena.

Pregnant, the word echoed in her mind.

Sally's heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. Was he... imagining her pregnant? Was he already planning that far ahead?

She turned to Patricia, her voice barely a whisper, shaking with fear. "Patricia... I heard Nate's thoughts. About Serena. He... he's thinking about her being pregnant. He wants that."

Patricia's face went pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't respond at first, her mind clearly racing with the implications. When she spoke, her voice was strained.

"Do you think... he's planning to make her pregnant? To control her even more?" Patricia's eyes widened with horror, the idea of Serena being trapped in that kind of nightmare gnawing at her insides.

Sally couldn't bring herself to answer. The thought alone was too much to process. How could someone be so twisted, so depraved? How far would Nate go to keep his grip on Serena, to manipulate and break her?

"I don't know," Sally finally said, her voice barely audible. "But I have to help her. We have to help her."

Patricia nodded slowly, her eyes now hardening with determination. "We will. We just... we need to figure out how to get to her. Before it's too late."

The two girls stood there for a moment, the reality of their situation settling like a weight on their shoulders. There was no easy answer, no clear path forward. But the fear in their eyes was real—fear for their friend, fear for themselves, and fear for what Nate was capable of.

Sally looked at Patricia, her eyes filled with a silent promise. "We're not giving up. We'll get Serena out of there. No matter what."

Patricia met her gaze, her expression a mix of worry and resolve. "Yeah. We will. We'll save her."

But as the words left her mouth, a chilling thought lingered in Sally's mind. Could they really save Serena from what Nate had planned? Could they stop him before it was too late?

The future felt uncertain, and the dread of what might come next was overwhelming. But one thing was clear—Sally wasn't going to let Serena fall into Nate's hands without a fight.

Sam stepped through the door, her heart pounding as the heavy silence of the room greeted her. She knew Nate would be waiting for her, and she braced herself for whatever punishment he had planned this time. Her eyes instinctively drifted down to the small bundle she had tucked safely into her arms—the kitten that Heat had given her earlier. It was still so tiny, so fragile, and Sam couldn't help but smile softly as she adjusted the little creature in her embrace.

She had been so happy, so carefree, during the time she spent outside. The kitten had brought her a sense of peace she hadn't felt in so long. She was still holding it when she stepped into the room, unaware of the tension that hung in the air.

Nate was there, watching her from across the room, his eyes sharp and calculating as always. He stood still for a moment, surveying her, before his gaze locked onto the kitten in her arms.

"Well, well," Nate said with a slow, almost mocking tone, his eyes narrowing. "It seems like you've managed to get yourself a little distraction." His voice was cold, and Sam could feel the chill creeping into her bones as he spoke.

Her heart sank. She could sense the danger in his tone, but she didn't want to show fear. She tried to hold her head high, clutching the kitten protectively against her chest. "It's just a kitten," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "It makes me happy."

Nate stepped forward, his eyes dark with a mix of disdain and amusement. "Happy?" He chuckled darkly. "You think you can just bring something into this mess and be happy? You think you're safe with that little thing?"

Sam flinched at his words, but she refused to back down. "I'm not trying to escape," she said quietly, "I'm just... trying to feel something normal. Just for once."

But Nate's expression darkened. He stepped closer, his movements predatory. The kitten stirred in Sam's arms, mewing softly, as if sensing the tension in the air. Sam tightened her grip on it, holding it close, desperate to protect it.

Nate's gaze shifted to the tiny creature in her arms, and an unsettling smile curled on his lips. "You really think that kitten can make you happy? You're so weak, Sam. So... desperate."

Sam's stomach twisted. She knew he was getting closer to her, and that dreaded feeling of powerlessness washed over her again. Her heart pounded as she tried to keep herself composed.

Without warning, Nate reached out and yanked the kitten from her arms with surprising force. Sam gasped, her hand shooting out instinctively to grab for it, but Nate held it out of her reach. The kitten let out a startled mewl, its little body wriggling in his grip. Sam's breath caught in her throat.

"Nate, please—" she started, her voice trembling with panic.

Nate raised an eyebrow, his expression filled with malicious amusement. "What are you going to do, Sam? Beg me for mercy? You think I care about your pathetic little pet?"

Before Sam could react, he tossed the kitten onto the floor, the small creature tumbling and landing with a sickening thud. Sam's eyes widened in horror, and she rushed to the floor, her heart in her throat.

"Nate, no! Please!" she cried, her hands shaking as she tried to scoop the kitten up. But the small animal's body was limp, lifeless in her hands. Her breath caught in her throat as tears welled up in her eyes.

It was too late.

The kitten, the tiny ray of happiness she had clung to for such a brief moment, was gone.

Sam shook with sobs, her heart breaking as she cradled the lifeless body of the kitten in her arms. Nate watched her, his eyes cold, unmoved by her distress. He stood there, arms crossed, as if he were waiting for her to react, to beg for forgiveness, to somehow fall even further into his control.

But Sam couldn't do that. She could barely breathe through the pain that clenched around her chest. The small creature she had come to love, so innocent and full of life, had been torn away from her in an instant.

Nate's voice broke through her devastation, sharp and unyielding. "You're pathetic, Sam. You really thought something so fragile would make you feel better?"

Sam didn't answer. She couldn't. The tears streamed down her face, her body wracked with sobs as she cradled the kitten's lifeless body. In that moment, she felt more alone than she ever had before.

Nate, seeing the depth of her pain, let out a sigh, clearly unsatisfied with the result. "Well, maybe now you'll learn your place."

But Sam wasn't listening to him. She couldn't hear his words over the deafening silence of her grief. She simply held the kitten close, her fingers trembling as she whispered softly, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

Nate's eyes darkened with something more intense than just coldness. He stepped toward Sam, his movements deliberate, but with an unsettling sense of control that sent a chill through her. She barely noticed as he loomed over her, still cradling the lifeless kitten in her arms, tears staining her cheeks.

"Sam," he said, his voice low and almost gentle, though it held an edge that was hard to miss. "You think you can get away from me, don't you? You think you can escape all of this? That I don't see you for what you really are?"

Sam's breath hitched. She wasn't sure what he meant, but her instincts screamed at her to stay away. She moved back slightly, but her body was stiff with grief. Nate's expression softened, though it was the kind of softness that made her skin crawl. He took another step closer to her, and she could feel the air between them grow heavy, oppressive.

"You think I'm some kind of monster, don't you?" Nate murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He reached out, a cold finger brushing her cheek, his touch sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "But I'm not. I'm not. I'm just... I'm just in love with you, Sam."

Her heart skipped a beat. The words hung in the air like a curse. Love? What was he talking about? How could he possibly say that after everything he'd done to her?

Sam's mind raced, trying to process his confession, but before she could even respond, Nate's hand shot out. He grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her to her feet with surprising force. "I don't care about the kitten," he continued, his voice tinged with an unsettling calm. "You're the one I want, Sam. I've wanted you for so long."

His grip tightened, and Sam struggled weakly, trying to break free, but it was no use. His strength overwhelmed her.

"I'm not going to let you run from me anymore," he said softly, as if explaining a simple fact. "I'm tired of waiting. This is where it ends. You're mine now."

A sickening feeling twisted in her stomach. Sam opened her mouth to scream, to protest, to fight back, but before she could make a sound, Nate's other hand moved swiftly, striking the side of her head with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. Her vision blurred, the world spinning as she crumpled against him, unconscious before she could even comprehend what had happened.

The last thing she felt was his arms around her, pulling her against him as he whispered something that made her stomach churn: "Don't worry, Sam. You'll see. We're going to be together, forever."

But it was all too much—too much to process, too much to escape. And everything went dark.

Nate carried Sam back to her room, his grip tight and possessive, his eyes alight with a mix of satisfaction and something darker. He murmured to her as if she could hear him, though she was completely unconscious, her body limp in his arms. His steps were slow, deliberate, as though savoring every second of having her this close.

The door creaked open, and Nate entered the room, carefully laying Sam down on the bed. He looked down at her, a twisted mix of affection and obsession in his gaze. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the muffled sounds from the hallway, but for Nate, it felt like a sacred silence. This was the moment he'd waited for, the moment when he would have her exactly as he wanted.

He sat beside her, brushing a lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her skin for longer than necessary. "You don't understand, do you, Sam?" he whispered, almost to himself. "I've tried so hard to show you that we belong together. I've done everything for you."

His gaze softened, almost tender, but there was something unsettling about it. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, a kiss that was both possessive and chilling.

"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice almost soothing now. "You're safe here with me. I'll take care of you. You'll see, you won't need anyone else."

He sat back, running his fingers through her hair once more, his eyes never leaving her face. It was as though he believed he was the only one who truly understood her, the only one who could protect her from the world. He didn't see how much harm he was causing, how much she hated him for all of this. To him, this was love.

The minutes stretched on, and the room was filled with a heavy, oppressive silence. Nate was in his own world now, oblivious to anything outside of Sam. He watched her closely, almost as if expecting her to wake up and finally see things his way.

But Sam remained unconscious, lost to the darkness of her own mind, and Nate was content in that silence for now. He couldn't wait for the moment she would open her eyes and realize that she was his, that there was no escaping him.

Until then, he'd wait. And for now, he'd hold her, keeping her close.

Sally and Patricia arrived at Sam's room, their hearts pounding as they quickly entered, concern and fear written all over their faces. The door creaked softly as they pushed it open, their eyes immediately drawn to the bed where Sam lay unconscious. The two girls exchanged worried glances, unsure of what had happened but sensing the weight of the situation.

Sam was still, her breathing shallow, her body relaxed yet uncomfortably still. The room was quiet, but the tension in the air felt palpable, as though something important had shifted while they were away.

Patricia's gaze immediately darted to the faint red mark on Sam's forehead—traces of the violence she'd endured—and then to the cat, who was quietly curled up beside her. For a brief moment, Patricia's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable.

But then, her eyes flickered downward, and she froze.

Her stomach sank as she saw the slight curve of Sam's belly, the shape more noticeable than it had been before. She couldn't quite place it at first, but it was there—evident now in the way Sam's shirt clung to her frame. Something was wrong, something they hadn't anticipated.

Sally caught on a moment later, her face blanching in horror. "No... it can't be..."

They rushed to Sam's side, shaking her gently, but there was no response. They didn't need to wake her, though—what they saw, what they had feared, was enough.

The door clicked behind them, and they turned to see Heat standing there, his face tight with concern. His eyes flickered to Sam, then to the two girls, before resting back on her.

Sally's voice trembled, breaking the silence. "She's... she's pregnant, isn't she?"

Patricia's lips parted in shock, but no words came out. She simply nodded slowly, her stomach flipping in disgust at the implications. It wasn't just the physical change—there was a more sinister undertone to it, one that neither of them wanted to fully accept.

The room felt colder, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow. Sam had been through so much already—her past, the cruelty, the torment—and now, this. Her body marked by something Nate had inflicted upon her.

Sam stirred, her eyelids fluttering open, and she groggily blinked at the faces around her. Her breath hitched as she processed the situation. She wanted to scream, to run away from everything. But she couldn't. Not anymore.

"Sam..." Heat whispered gently, his voice laced with sympathy and worry.

She could barely make eye contact, but she muttered something almost too soft to hear.

"I'm pregnant," Sam whispered, her voice strained, a tear slipping down her cheek. "He did this to me..."

The room fell silent again, the weight of her words crashing down on them all.