The fangirls were practically swooning over Nate, their excitement palpable as they fawned over him, shouting praises at the top of their lungs. "Come on, ladies, let's not crowd me all at once—there's plenty of me to go around!" Nate grinned, clearly enjoying the attention, his charisma only amplifying the chaos of the crowd. His fans erupted into even louder cheers, hanging on his every word.

In the midst of the frenzy, Sally and Patricia squeezed through the mass of people, their mission clear.

"Just to clarify, who exactly are we looking for again?" Sally asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and slight confusion as she scanned the throngs of fans.

"Brief," Patricia replied succinctly, her eyes scanning the crowd with purpose. "He's been keeping an eye out for us."

Sally nodded, only half-listening as her gaze drifted. Just then, Serena—unnoticed by most—caught a glimpse of someone across the room. Her eyes locked on them, a mix of determination and hope flashing in her expression.

Joey, lost in his thoughts, was scrolling through his phone, completely tuning out the show. Molly, noticing the distraction, turned to him with a raised brow. "Did you like the show, Heat?" she asked, her tone light but curious.

There was no response.

"Heat? HEAT?!" Molly called again, now slightly more frantic. She reached over, shaking him gently.

Startled, Joey scrambled to turn on Heat's hearing aids, his eyes wide with alarm. "AH! What?!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with confusion.

Molly exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into her voice. "I asked how you found the show," she repeated, her teeth clenched in irritation.

"Oh, uh... I liked it," Joey replied absentmindedly, his eyes still not quite meeting hers. "But... the girl seemed scared, though. I don't know, it felt... familiar, I guess."

Molly nodded slowly, her gaze drifting over the crowd. "Yeah, I thought the same. It was like I'd seen something like it before," she muttered, her mind turning over the events she'd witnessed. There was something off about the whole thing—something that didn't sit right.

Nate's grip on Serena's shoulder was unrelenting as they maneuvered through the crowd, his fingers pressing into her skin with possessive force. "Remember what I told you, Dollface," he murmured, the words dripping with malice, causing a chill to run down her spine. Serena's head was spinning, her pulse quickening with the reminder of the rules he had drilled into her. She gave a shaky nod, trying to ignore the unease gnawing at her.

"Miss Fisher!" A voice suddenly called out, cutting through the tension. Serena's heart leapt, grateful for the distraction. A man approached, his face friendly, and for a moment, it felt like a lifeline.

"Could I get your autograph?" he asked, his smile warm, and Serena's expression softened, her hope momentarily rekindled. Nate, however, wasn't about to let her have an easy escape. His hand tightened on her shoulder, pulling her back slightly as he reached into his pocket to hand her a pen. The man didn't seem to notice, too focused on Serena.

"Sure," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she signed the paper he offered.

The man then turned his attention to Nate, who was watching with an almost predatory gaze. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions about the Willkommen club?" he inquired, his tone respectful but curious.

Nate gave a curt nod of approval, his fingers digging into Serena's skin as he held her firmly in place. "Ask away," he said, his voice low and controlled, with just the slightest edge of warning.

The man, unaware of the tension, addressed Serena. "What's it like there, Miss Fisher?"

Serena froze. Nate's eyes locked onto hers, his grip tightening, a reminder of the unspoken rule. Say the right things, or else.

She swallowed hard, her voice strained as she replied, "It's the most fun place I've ever been."

Nate's grip didn't loosen. In fact, it seemed to tighten, his nails pressing harder into her skin, causing a dull, persistent ache. "Oh really?" The man asked, still innocently curious. "What do you guys do there?"

Serena's answer came automatically, her voice flat, a rehearsed tone she'd mastered over the past weeks. "We learn to dance, and hang out in the lounge."

"Is that all?" the man asked, his interest piqued.

Nate's grip was nearly suffocating now, and Serena could feel her skin starting to burn where his nails dug in. The air around them seemed to grow thick with tension. He leaned in slightly, his breath hot against her ear, whispering, "What else, Serena? Tell him... Tell him everything."

She fought to keep her voice steady. "We eat... steak, fresh fruit, and vegetables," she said, her words mechanical. "We only get candy and sweets if we behave well."

"Good girl," Nate purred, his voice dripping with mock affection. His grip was no longer just firm; it was painful, as if his fingers were trying to break through her flesh. "And where do you guys sleep?" he asked, his tone like a command.

Serena's heart raced, dread flooding her chest. She could feel his nails pressing deeper, threatening to draw blood. "On... a nice Tempur-Pedic mattress," she answered shakily, hoping the man would lose interest, hoping the pain would stop.

But Nate wasn't done yet. He wanted to break her. He squeezed her shoulder harder, the pressure unbearable, and leaned in close, his voice a low rasp. "You'd better say it right, Dollface," he muttered, the threat unmistakable.

The man seemed oblivious to the tension, his smile still wide. "Sounds like a pretty nice place," he said, nodding approvingly.

Nate's grip suddenly loosened, the momentary relief leaving Serena gasping. He pulled away with a sly smile. "Alright, I think that's enough questions for her," he said, his voice now light and dismissive, as if nothing had happened. He shot the man a quick nod before dragging Serena away, his fingers still firm on her arm.

As they moved through the crowd, Nate leaned in, his breath cold against her ear. "Good girl~," he purred, his voice thick with twisted affection. "Just like Master wants~."

Serena's stomach churned, and she quickly averted her gaze, not wanting him to see the disgust on her face. But she knew—there was no escape. Not now.

Heat's unease was palpable as he walked beside Molly and Joey, his usual calm demeanor replaced with an evident tension. Molly glanced over at him, sensing something was off.

"You okay, Heat?" she asked, her voice soft but concerned, her brow furrowing as she noticed the tightness in his posture. She hadn't realized that just a few steps behind them, her sister was navigating through the crowd, unaware of their proximity.

Heat gave a nervous smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I just have to take care of something," he replied, trying to sound reassuring, but the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

Joey, sensing the change in the air, exchanged a glance with Molly, both of them now visibly uneasy. They slowed their pace, the atmosphere around them growing heavier with every step.

"What's going on, Heat?" Joey asked, his usual playful tone gone, replaced by something more serious. "You've been acting weird all night."

Molly nodded, her lips pressed together in a thoughtful line. "Yeah, it's like you're... avoiding something. You're not usually this jumpy."

Heat didn't meet their eyes, his gaze fixed ahead as if trying to ignore the growing tension. "It's nothing," he muttered, but the two of them weren't convinced. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken worry.

Molly exchanged another glance with Joey. "Do you think... it's something to do with the show? Or maybe... someone here?" she whispered, her voice tense with concern.

Joey shrugged, but there was a flicker of apprehension in his eyes. "Could be. I don't know. Whatever it is, it's messing with him. We should probably stick close, just in case."

Molly's worry deepened as she looked back at Heat, who was still walking ahead, clearly distracted. "I don't know, Joey. It feels like it's more than just nerves." She bit her lip.

"Do you think he's hiding something from us..?"