Chapter 2 Saved By A Stranger

As the club's lights pulsed with a relentless rhythm, the chaotic display of colors that splashed across the walls and floor, added to the chaos that just erupted in her system.

The music surged with an insistent beat, its vibrations shaking the very foundation of the space, and with each beat that dropped, Fiona felt her heart thud hard.

She's all yours

The words replayed in her head as she stared at her older brother, but he stared back with a bland expression. How could he give her away so cheaply for the sake of some flimsy, dubious deal?

"What are... What are you saying? "She began to panic but Lorenzo turned his attention back to his business partner.

"My men will come and get me when you're done. Hopefully, by then there would be no reasons you wouldn't sign the document. Right? "He spoke, and Fiona's jaw dropped. His voice was icy. Devoid of any hint of care or concern.

The weight of his betrayal pressed heavily on her and each syllable he spoke was a sharp stab to her heart. Did he hate her so much? Did she really mean so little to him? Why?

Yes, they were step siblings but she never did anything to hurt or cross him. So, why was he so adamant in his efforts to destroy her life?

"No. There would be no issue. "The elderly man replied as he hungrily licked his lips and looked Fiona over and Lorenzo took a deep breath.

"Good. Have fun. "He replied and Fiona died a thousand deaths in one second.

She struggled against the man who now held her firmly in his grip, but he didn't let go. His hands were rough and unyielding, and his unpleasant breath was hot against her neck.

"No! No. You can't do this.

Lorenzo!

What are you doing? I'm your sister! "She screamed on top of her lungs but the loud music brushed her voice aside. She struggled relentlessly as Lorenzo walked away with a cold detachment, and her heart broke into a million pieces.

The disgusting man's eyes had lit up with a predatory eagerness as he smiled at Fiona who was fruitlessly struggling against him. His gaze drifted over her with an unsettling hunger, and it only made her skin crawl and her fear increase.

"Please, someone help me! "She began to scream in fear.

Her heart raced uncontrollably as she tried to move away from the man's firm grasp, but all her attempts to free herself were futile. His hold was like iron. The music and the crowd seemed to swallow her cries for help, rendering her pleas insignificant in the face of the club's overwhelming chaos.

"Lorenzo!" Her voice cracked, rising in pitch as she called out to her brother, who was already disappearing into the crowd.

"Please, don't do this to me! "She cried but her teary eyes watched his silhouette blend with the pulsating lights and the sea of people.

His refusal to even glance back at her was a harsh reminder of the betrayal she had just endured. The man holding her seemed to bask in her panic, as his hands moved with increasing familiarity over her body.

As the man's grip tightened, Fiona's sense of despair deepened.

Every section of the club was VIP, a place where privacy was a luxury everybody could afford. Here, the one rule was that everyone minded their own business, and that rule left Fiona feeling utterly helpless and alone.

But she wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.

She tried to scream again, her voice strained and desperate.

"Help me! Someone, please!"

However her cries were drowned out by the relentless music and the crowd's indifferent chatter. The club was a labyrinth of indulgence and excess, where the plight of one individual was easily ignored in favor of everyone else's pleasures.

Fiona's attempts to fight off the man grew weaker as the seconds ticked by. His touch was invasive, his advances persistent. Just when the man tore the top of her dress, she realized fighting was useless. There was nothing she could do, and no one would save her. This was going to happen no matter what she did.

In surrender, she closed her eyes, her mind retreating into a dark, safe place as she tried to escape the overwhelming reality of her situation. The man's hands were rough and persistent, and no matter how much she struggled, she couldn't seem to get him off her.

As she mentally braced herself for the inevitable, a voice suddenly cut through the oppressive air of the club's music.

"What do you think you're doing? "

The voice was authoritative, its clarity slicing through the music and noise like a knife. Fiona's eyes flew open, and she turned her head with a mixture of hope and fear. The man holding her looked up, his expression shifting from one of predatory excitement to confusion.

A new figure stood at the edge of their booth. He was tall and impeccably dressed in a dark suit that contrasted sharply with the flashing lights of the club. His presence was commanding, and his gaze was fixed with unwavering intensity on the man who had been groping Fiona.

"I asked you a question, fatso. "The newcomer said, his voice low and edged with authority. He took a step forward, the confidence in his posture making the elderly man shrink back slightly.

The man holding Fiona hesitated, his bravado faltering.

"I didn't- I was just- " His voice wavered, the confidence he had displayed earlier now replaced by a visible nervousness.

"Who are you? "He demanded instead, and the newcomer scoffed.

"Trust me. You don't want to know. One snap of my fingers and you may not see tomorrow thanks to shit stunt you just pulled. "He replied and the elderly man began to fidget.

"You're done here. Leave. "He ordered sharply and the elderly man glanced between Fiona and the authoritative figure, his face a mask of reluctant compliance. With one last lingering look at Fiona, he backed away, his retreat marked by an air of defeat. The crowd seemed to part slightly, allowing him to slip out of sight.