Fresh Prey

I looked wildly around in a state of sheer panic. Chloe pushed me through the deafening crowds, her grip on my wrist unyielding. The claustrophobic air choked my lungs, thick with the smell of stale sweat and cheap beer. We navigated toward a dark corner sectioned off by plush leather booths. In the center of the cavernous room, sweaty, bare-bodied men fought like rabid animals inside towering iron cages. Their violent grunts mixed with the heavy, bone-rattling bass of the club music. Scantily clad women cheered from the sidelines, their bodies pressed against the blood-splattered bars.

Chloe flashed a manic smile, her voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. "Welcome to the Behemoth, the Brawl Club of the century, darling."

My heart plummeted straight into my stomach. I recognized her inner circle of wealthy elite friends lounging around a VIP table up ahead. They looked exactly like a shiver of sharks that had just spotted fresh, bleeding prey in the water. Caleb Wentworth II. Wyatt Langdon. Kareem Hassan. Blair Kensington. Madison Cross. I tried desperately to shrink back and hide my exposed body behind Chloe's frame. It was useless. The men immediately zeroed in on me, their predatory eyes ogling my pushing cleavage with raw hunger.

Blair took a slow, deliberate sip of her neon cocktail and shot daggers at me over the rim of her glass. "Chloe darling, I thought you said you were bringing us a playmate?"

Chloe shoved my back hard, her eyes burning with pure hate. "I did even better, doll. I got you guys a toy!"

I stumbled forward on my stilettos, nearly flinging face-first into Wyatt Langdon’s lap. The men erupted into rowdy, drunken laughter as I scrambled to regain my balance. I wanted to turn and sprint back out the heavy metal doors, but the trap was already sprung.

Before I could even take a breath, Kareem Hassan lunged out of his deep leather seat. He clamped his massive hand onto my bare arm, his grip bruising my fragile skin. He licked his thick, wet lips. "Well, well, Lil’ Marci the mouse looks edible!"

He pinned my flailing arms against my sides. With a rough, animalistic yank, he dragged my struggling body directly onto his muscular lap. He crushed my back against his broad chest, his wet face nuzzling aggressively into my nape. I twisted and fought, but his grip was iron. Beneath my thighs, I felt the distinct, rigid bulge of his hard cock thrusting upward against my flesh.

I pressed my palms against his chest, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. "Please, let me go."

My helpless, high-pitched pleas only seemed to excite him further. The deafening noise of the club drowned out my desperation. Beside us, a heavily intoxicated Caleb Wentworth leaned forward across the table. His glazed blue eyes locked openly onto my spilling breasts.

Caleb reached out and forcefully squeezed my exposed thigh, his fingers digging into my skin. "I wanna play. Get a room for us, baby."

His doped-up girlfriend, Madison, giggled vacantly as Caleb openly stroked his stiff cock right through his expensive trousers. Panic clawed at my throat, suffocating me. Through my terror, I caught a fleeting flash of intense annoyance crossing Chloe’s face. Her cruel plan to merely humiliate me had rapidly backfired. She had turned me into the hyper-sexualized object of her male friends' predatory lust, and she clearly hated sharing the spotlight.

Caleb crowed with an arrogant grin. "After you, Reem."

The situation escalated into a horrifying nightmare. Hassan suddenly grabbed my nearly uncovered breast. His thick fingers squeezed my soft flesh and pinched hard on my nipple. I let out a muffled scream. Before I could pull away, he grabbed my jaw. He forced his disgusting, wet mouth aggressively onto mine, violating my lips with his tongue.

A surge of desperate survival instinct overrode my blinding terror. I pulled my leg back. I kicked him as hard as I humanly could, driving the sharp, pointed heel of my stiletto directly into his shin.

Hassan grunted in sudden, breathless surprise. His iron grip loosened for a fraction of a second. I shoved his heavy chest away fiercely, scrambling off his lap. I snatched a half-full glass of burning liquor from the table and hurled the stinging liquid directly into his eyes.

Hassan roared in pain, clutching his face as the alcohol burned his vision. The group stared in drunken shock. Before their surprise could manifest into violent rage, I turned and fled.

I ran blindly. Adrenaline consumed my veins, drowning out the throbbing bass of the club. I shoved aggressively past solid bodies, ignoring the angry curses thrown my way. Grabbing hands reached out from the smoky shadows, trying to snag my dress or my hair, but I tore myself free. I stumbled on my heels but kept moving. I just needed to find the exit. I needed air. I needed to escape this suffocating hellhole before they caught me and dragged me back to that table.

Suddenly, I crashed headfirst into what felt like a solid brick wall.

The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. But the wall was warm. It smelled of expensive cologne and pure danger, wrapped in a crisp dress shirt. Winded and gasping for breath, I slowly looked up. I stared straight into the coldest, most emotionless, cruel, and unrelenting pale grey eyes I had ever seen in my life.

Beneath the spell of those eyes, I realized that he would drag me into the abyss of love.