Gia POV

I sway my body to the pulsating bass, shedding all the troubles that have haunted me these past weeks-mostly work. No more Cruise bossing me around with his not-so-subtle flirts, and no looming deadlines. Tonight, I just want to let loose and have a damn good time.

What could be more exhilarating than a wild weekend in Paris? Here we are, in this swanky private pub downtown, accompanied by my two besties. What more could you ask for? Tomorrow can wait. Tonight, we're going all out.

"Hey, careful there! You might not wake up in the morning!" Tamara tries to take away my glass, but I push her off playfully. She shakes her head, completely exasperated by my antics.

"What the hell is an Irish Bomb, anyway?" Tamara dismisses the adorable bartender, fearing I might drain the entire stock of booze that night. I pout and give her fine ass a playful slap.

"Ouch! Not cool, okay?!"

"You scared off that guy! You're such a buzzkill!"

"Listen, I have to take care of you, so you can function tomorrow. Cruise will murder us both if you screw up the interview!" I scoff at her, tired of hearing about Cruise yet again.

"Well, I can always get into his pants if he fires us..." I giggle, downing the last drop of tequila in one shot. I shoot a flirtatious glance at the bartender, who returns it with a smile, his eyes gleaming with dollar signs.

Tonight, this lady will make him rich!

"Alright, I guess that's enough..." someone snatched the glass from my hand.

"Sorn, my baby boy!" The man wraps his arm around my waist, ensuring I don't tumble off the barstool. He looks at me, filled with concern.

"I didn't expect this when you said she becomes a pain in the ass when she's drunk!" I can hear him complaining to Tamara. That girl just smacks her forehead.

"Oh yeah, she's the bitchiest when she's like this!"

"Boohoo, both of you are such party poopers!"

"G, take it easy, okay? We have a fashion show to attend," Sorn tries to calm me down. But I push him away with a mischievous grin.

"I hate it when things go slow! And you, my dear, are such a boring man! Get laid tonight, and you'll understand the meaning of 'taking it easy'..." I plant a passionate kiss on his lips, leaving them in shock.

Back on the dance floor, I continue swaying and moving to the rhythm. The dance floor is packed with people-it's always a wild Saturday night here. I don't pay attention to anyone around me. Some are even grinding against each other, but who gives a damn!

This is a dance floor, for Christ's sake!

As I dance, a man slowly approaches me. Not with impressive moves, more like a pretentious dandy type-the kind I can't stand.

"Are you alone?" he asks, his words barely registering as I wave my hands up and down, maintaining my poker face. With a simple gesture, I can easily ward off any man who dares approach me.

Love? I have no plans for it, not again. Not after Alan abandoned me for that bombshell blonde who tends to his desires every night. Five years wasted in the blink of an eye. He claimed I loved my job more than him.

Well, at least I got paid for that love.

I continue moving on the dance floor, surrendering to the seductive beats of the upbeat EDM house mix. I don't care about anyone else. It's just me and the music that ravages my ears. There's something about it that I find alluring. I'm lost in my own world until my gaze locks with someone.

A man dressed in black. He, too, dances on the floor, but his eyes... I can't tell if he's intentionally watching me or if our gazes have merely coincided. Regardless, his eyes, oh boy, they penetrate deep into my soul.

Gaze, I mean, our gaze...

Slowly, we draw closer, our bodies brushing against each other. I can't quite make out his face. Damn the dim lighting! However, he pulls me into his arms, and we sway together as if we've already consumed one another. He keeps his eyes fixed on me, his touch gentle yet possessive as he holds my waist.

What a peculiar gentleman.

Strangely enough, we haven't exchanged a single word. We continue dancing, locked in our shared gaze, and perhaps even caressing each other. He spins me around and embraces me tightly from behind. I feel his breath hitch, as if he's taking me from behind. His hands roam freely, exploring every inch of my body.

Yet, a sense of unease washes over me.

I cautiously push his hand away, intending to leave, but he jerks me back forcefully, his lips hovering near my ear.

"We're far from finished, jellybean..."

A chill grips my heart, as if it's plunged into a sub-zero abyss. His hands trace an unwelcome path, creeping from my thigh, edging upward, dangerously close to forbidden territory. I quickly smack his hand away, my body trembling with a mix of fear and confusion, and I walk away.

I attempt to make sense of my intoxicated mind.

Was I just a victim of harassment?

I glance back, only to find him vanished into thin air. I search for any trace of his presence, but he's nowhere to be found.

Or perhaps it's the alcohol playing tricks on my senses?

I need to escape this place swiftly before I lose my sanity!

***

I kick off my shoes, letting them fall to the floor as I stumble towards my bed. What a night! With this hazy sensation washing over me, I question whether I'll be able to wake up tomorrow. Damn!

Glancing at my phone, I see a text from Sorn. A gentle reminder about tomorrow's event.

<sorn>
Are you alright? Should I come over?

<you>
No need. I'm feeling drowsy.

<Sorn>
Are you sure?

I set my phone aside. God, I'm so exhausted now! I can't bring myself to respond to Sorn any longer. It's time to change into my pajamas.

With heavy eyelids, I struggle to rise and rummage through my suitcase in search of my sleepwear.

No pajamas! Fantastic!

Oh, Gia! How could you be so absent-minded?

Now what? Should I sleep naked?

Lost in self-reprimand, I'm interrupted by a knock on the door. It must be Sorn. He's probably worried I'll collapse somewhere. I quickly straightened my robe and opened the door.

"Sorn, I told you..." I furrow my brow as I swing the door open.

To my surprise, there's no one there.

The corridor lies empty and still. I step out cautiously, my neck extended as I strain to detect any signs of a lurking presence.

An unsettling knot forms in the pit of my stomach, but I dismiss the eerie sensation. Perhaps it's just my intoxicated mind, muddled by the drink.

"Gia, why are you wandering?" I spin around, startled by Sorn's sudden appearance. He stands there, his bag in hand.

"Did you knock on my door just now?"

"I've just returned from downstairs," Sorn responds, his frown deepening. He moves about, surveying the surroundings, ensuring our safety.

"Huh? Well, never mind."

"You've had too much to drink. You should rest," Sorn advises. He's probably right. It's likely the aftermath of the alcohol, playing tricks on my senses.

I retreat into my room, locking the door behind me after Sorn departs. It's time for sleep. If not, I'll be completely wasted tomorrow! Failing to find suitable attire, I settle for a baggy t-shirt and prepare to lie down.

But suddenly, an unseen force yanks my body towards the corner. A tight grip encircles my waist, stealing my breath away. I attempt to scream, but a massive hand clamps over my mouth, covering half of my face. The room plunges into darkness as the light flickers off.

All I can do is remain silent.

"As I warned you before, we're far from finished, jellybean..."

---

I jolt upright in bed, scanning my surroundings while gasping for breath. My eyes flutter, gradually adjusting to the reality before me.

I feel... normal. Like any other day.

Wait. Something happened last night. Or was it all just a figment of my imagination?

My mind slowly unravels the fragments of the scene. Someone intruded into my room! And...

Oh my, dear heavens!

I snatch up my phone. It's 7:00 AM. I dial Tamara's number, my trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons. She finally answers after several rings.

"Ugh, it's still early-"

"Mara! Help me! Just come to my room!" I can barely get the words out. My body quivers uncontrollably as I struggle to stand and take a few steps.

Curiously, I don't feel any pain whatsoever!

A knock on the door startles me. I glance through the peephole before cautiously opening it. Tamara stands there, panting heavily, her olive skin flushed red.

"What's wrong?!" she exclaims. I can't think clearly when I see her. My mind goes blank. I invited her into my room and recounted the events last night.

"Did you lose anything?"

"I don't think so. My purse, bag, and laptop-all seem undisturbed," I inform Tamara. She gently turns my body, inspecting for any signs of bruises.

"And you appear unscathed. No scratches, no bruises. Are you absolutely certain this isn't just a dream?" Tamara questions. I shake my head.

Perhaps I was simply too intoxicated, lost in a drunken haze.

"Well, maybe you're right. I must have been incredibly drunk last night..." I sink onto the couch, my body slumping in exhaustion.

"See... That's why I told you to slow down! You had me worrying needlessly!"

"Sorry..."

"Forget it. But remember, next time there won't be any apologies for you!" Tamara warns me sternly before departing from my room. A faint chuckle escapes my lips.

Yet, it all feels peculiar. I distinctly remember the tight embrace from behind. Even the way that person spoke to me lingers in my mind. "Jellybean" was the odd nickname they used.

What an unusual term of endearment!

I attempted to convince myself that it was nothing more than a dream. Perhaps I became too consumed by last night's encounter with that enigmatic man on the dance floor. Alcohol must have intoxicated my brain, distorting my cognitive faculties.

***

I shake my head in disbelief as I make my way to the bathroom. Stripping down and facing the mirror, I brace myself for my usual morning routine. However, what I see sends a chill down my spine, causing me to let out an involuntary gasp.

A series of vivid love bites mark my skin, starting from my breasts and trailing down to my stomach. I muster the courage to examine myself further, and my eyes widen in horror. There, on the inside of my thigh, is a large, ominous bruise accompanied by a distinct bite mark.

I steady myself, clutching onto the sink to prevent myself from collapsing. These bruises, they weren't there before. It's as if I engaged in a night of rough, passionate lovemaking. Dread courses through my veins, turning my face ashen.

The intruder... It wasn't just a figment of my imagination.