I watched the exchange between them with desperate hope clinging to my chest.
But the moment he turned back toward me, that hope cracked.
Fear surged up my throat as I realized—what if she ignored me? What if she really meant to leave me here? Panicked, I jerked my head toward her, forcing her to look at me.
My face was ruined—wet with tears, my nose running, my breathing uneven. I knew how I must have looked.
And I also knew this wasn't the first time she had seen me like this.
"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please… save me."
She had already been looking at me.
Not him.
Even when he had grabbed her collar, she hadn't spared him a glance. Her attention stayed fixed on me as she stood there, calm and unmoving, her eyes narrowing slightly as they traveled over me—my worn clothes, my pants bunched at my thighs, my tear-streaked face.
"Why should I?" she asked softly. "We are strangers, aren't we?"
Her lips curved just a little, making my stomach sink.
Anyone else would have helped without asking. That was what made the question so unsettling.
But I understood.
I shook my head violently, urgency flooding through me.
"No, no, we're not strangers. We've met before. We know each other."
My voice trembled, but I held her gaze.
The woman didn't say anything. She only kept looking at me for longer, expecting something.
"Ma'am... I'm sorry about before," I said desperately, after grasping her thoughts. "This is our third time meeting..."
The memory surfaced in my mind of my second meeting with that woman in that club. I had foolishly claimed that it was the first time we had met.
"You heard her."
She finally turned her head toward pig like man. Her voice was serious and cold.
That man looked between us, confused, as he was unable to follow what was being said. Then his expression twisted, anger bubbling up quickly.
"You fucking whore."
After seeing the serious look on the woman's face, he swung his fist at her.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I hadn't expected this. I hadn't thought asking for her help would put her in danger too. My hands fumbled as I yanked my pants up. I was already preparing to run, to bring help the moment I could.
But the woman didn't retreat. She simply stepped aside calmly.
The fist that was coming at her completely missed its mark. The momentum carried him forward, off balance, and as he passed her, she extended her foot, effortlessly.
He tripped.
His body twisted awkwardly, his swing collapsing into nothing, hitting only air, and then he hit the floor, crashing down in a clumsy, almost unreal motion.
The sound echoed through the bathroom.
I was blown away as I forgot everything. About my plan to run during the fight.
I could only stare with wide eyes as that big man rolled across the floor, helplessly. The same man I had to exert myself to an unimaginable degree just to push back a single step was now sprawled flat with barely any effort at all, just a single foot.
She flipped him onto his back and planted her polished shoe against his neck, pressing down just enough to make him choke. Her balance didn't shift. Her posture didn't change.
One of her hands remained tucked in her pocket.
With the other, she calmly pulled out her phone, fingers tapping as she brought it to her ear, partially hidden by the fall of her long hair.
"Come to the basement bathroom. Now."
She ended the call without waiting.
The man beneath her was bleeding from the nose, gasping as he struggled uselessly under her foot. She didn't look down at him.
It didn't take long.
Several guards rushed in. They stopped and addressed her immediately, asking if she was alright. Neither of them spared even a glance in my direction.
Or at him.
"Just get rid of this." She didn't answer; instead, she ordered with utter contempt.
Only then did they move. They seized the man as he continued to struggle and dragged him away quickly.
I didn't fully understand what had just happened.
Everything had moved too fast. I was still sitting on the toilet seat, my hands clenched tightly around my pants. My thoughts lagging behind reality.
When my eyes lifted and met hers, I flinched.
I stood up quickly, my movements clumsy, and lowered my gaze at once.
"Th—thank you... for saving me."
The words felt inadequate. I was grateful—more than I could put into words—especially because she was the one person I had been sure would turn away and leave me there. She was so indifferent.
Well, I wasn't entirely certain I was safe.
"This place has also come under my management." Her hand went into her pockets again. "What did I say to you the last time?"
My body went rigid.
I swallowed and answered quietly. "That I wouldn't go unharmed."
She nodded, seemingly satisfied.
Panicked, I rushed to speak again, the words tumbling over each other.
"But this time—I really am not here for anything like that. No deals or anything related to that. Someone else asked me out for drinks, and I have no bad intention... really."
As I spoke, my voice regained strength.
Of course, since I hadn't done anything wrong, I didn't want to be punished for no reason. And how was I supposed to guess this place was under her control too? If that was how things were, then the only place I could safely go was my small room.
Just who was this woman?
"I just came here with a friend," I said, my eyes widening.
Alex.
I had forgotten him completely in the heat of the situation. Despite the absence of the man from before, two others remained. And Alex was alone with them.
I turned and started to walk toward the door, but I didn't make it far. Her hand closed around my arm tightly, stopping me in place.
"I need to help my friend. Please, let go."
The woman didn't answer my plea. She pushed me back instead, dragging me deeper into the bathroom. Her grip shifted to my shoulder, steadying me there before she finally spoke.
"Which room?"
I hesitated only a second. If she wasn't letting me go, then I wouldn't be on my own, seeing how she handled that big man. So, I just did what she asked and told her about the room.
She took out her phone again and dialed without delay.
"Clear out all the guests from that room," her eyes pressing on me with her grip. "Make up any excuse. If there's someone named Alex among them, separate him and send him through the back door."
She ended the call.
I wanted to ensure Alex's safety, but I didn't ask for details because I trusted the woman.
Not because I actually trusted her—but because I didn't need to.
Whether she could be trusted or not didn't matter. She wouldn't bother lying; she didn't need to act. She was fully capable of doing whatever she wanted, both to me and to Alex.
"So," she said, releasing my shoulder at last, "how should I go about this?"
As she spoke, she slid both hands into her pockets casually.
She looked exactly as she had before—formal black pants and a fitted shirt without a single wrinkle. Her sleeves were rolled up, exposing long, lean forearms. Her black hair was long and straight, leisurely falling over her shoulders.
Earlier, I was frightened, and it had narrowed my vision. I had been too focused on survival to truly observe her.
Now that I did, she appeared as beautiful as ever. But she also seemed untouchable.
But just then, something happened.
Really, really bad.