Diana’s face went pale. Her stomach churned. Although she had managed to quickly escape to the restroom earlier, they refused to give her breaks. Her stomach felt bloated, and a terrible taste lingered in her mouth. She hesitated, pleading for mercy.
“Mr. Davis, I…”
The man’s patience snapped. “What? You follow their orders but hesitate with me? Are you trying to embarrass me? Or maybe you prefer their company over mine?”
His words carried a clear threat.
He had been a long-time client of Emerald Artists Agency, one of Bianca’s most valued clients. If Bianca found out there was any trouble in their partnership, it would cause serious problems.
Diana hesitated again, torn between doing what they wanted and her physical limits. She wasn’t sure what to do, but as he grew more impatient and revealed his true intentions, she felt like she had no choice.
With a cruel smile, he said, “Fine. If you don’t drink it willingly, I’ll make you.”
The man grabbed Diana’s arms and pushed her onto the sofa. Other men joined in, holding her down. One of them grabbed a bottle, pried her mouth open, and poured the liquid down her throat.
Diana was flooded with fear. She struggled as hard as she could, but they held her tightly, making it impossible to move.
The wine was forced into her mouth, flowing down her throat and into her stomach without mercy. The man poured it roughly, causing some of the liquid to spill out of her nose. Diana felt terrible, wanting to cough but unable to. All she could do was let out a helpless whimper, unable to speak clearly.
Tears streamed down her face as fear and hopelessness took over. With her eyes squeezed shut, Diana silently wished for a way out of this nightmare.
Suddenly, the door to the room was kicked open with force. The men, irritated, turned to confront the intruder, ready to react angrily.
The men’s tone instantly changed when they recognized the figure in the doorway.
Brandon stood there in a sharp silver-gray suit and striking red shoes, framed by the bright light from the hallway. His presence was refined and commanding, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone in the room.
As Brandon stepped into the room, his stern stare scanned the group. The men, startled by his authoritative presence, quickly released Diana. They tried to hide their guilt with forced smiles, awkwardly greeting him, “Mr. Foster, what brings you here? This is quite the surprise.”
Brandon looked at Diana, lying on the sofa, covered in sticky wine. Her red face and messy hair showed she was drunk. Her white blouse, now soaked, clung to her skin, becoming see-through and highlighting her figure.
The sight bothered him, and he frowned.
He noticed the empty wine bottles on the table and sneered, speaking with clear disapproval. “You’re having too much fun. It’s not very gentlemanly to get a woman this drunk. If word gets out, it could hurt your reputation.”
The men looked uncomfortable and confused, unsure of what Brandon was up to.
Brandon then suggested, “Since we’ve crossed paths, why don’t I join you for a drink? Maybe you’ll show some mercy and let this woman go?”
Diana had been drifting in and out of consciousness, barely aware of someone speaking. She struggled to focus, squinting and seeing a young, handsome man in front of her. Through the haze, she thought he looked like Brandon.
Trying to clear her foggy mind, she squinted, trying to make sense of it. Could it really be Brandon? What was he doing here?
Though surprised by his appearance, she felt too weak to speak, slumping on the sofa and exhausted.
The men exchanged confused looks, unsure of why Brandon had stepped in. They looked at Diana, wondering if Brandon was playing the hero or if they had a deeper connection.
Despite Brandon being a famous singer rather than a businessman, his parents had strong political ties, giving him a powerful family background. Since Brandon had asked to join them for a drink, the businessmen felt they had to show him respect.
Roger Davis, who had just forced Diana to drink, sensed the growing tension and stepped forward to ease it. “Mr. Foster, you’re right. Since we’re here, let’s have a drink together.”
But twenty minutes later, Roger regretted his quick invitation.
The private room now looked like a comedy scene, with Brandon being the only sober person among a group of drunken men slumped on the sofa. Brandon toyed with his empty wine glass, a smug grin playing at the corner of his mouth.
Brandon stood apart from the others, commanding a different respect. No one dared pressure him into drinking. In fact, for every drink Brandon had, the others had to drink three.
As he looked around at the drunk businessmen, Brandon lightly touched Diana’s cheek with his cold fingers. “Come on, wake up. Unless you plan to spend the night here?”
Diana, still unconscious, let out a soft moan. Instinctively, she reached for Brandon’s fingers as if trying to hold onto something.
Brandon sighed, his expression growing serious. Reluctantly, he picked Diana up and left the private room, sticking to his principle of seeing things through.
With Diana in his arms, Brandon got into the waiting car. The driver, seeing Brandon with a woman again, didn’t ask any questions. Brandon’s reputation as a known womanizer was widely recognized, so the driver didn’t seem surprised. In a low voice, he asked, “Mr. Foster, where are we headed?”
Looking down at Diana, who was limp in his lap, Brandon replied quietly, “Home.”
The driver pulled up outside Brandon’s apartment building. After confirming that Brandon didn’t need further help, he left.
As Brandon carried Diana into his apartment, she felt light and limp in his arms. But just as he was about to place her on the bed, she suddenly started thrashing around.
Diana managed to open her eyes and saw Brandon’s handsome face looming over her, distorted and magnified. His expression was a mix of playfulness and disgust, which angered her. She twisted and struggled to break free from his hold in a surge of frustration.
“Brandon! Let go of me. What gives you the right to touch me? I was doing my job. Why did you have to interfere and ruin everything? I know you don’t like me, but do you want me to lose my job? Why are you being so cruel? I hate you. Let go of me,” she yelled, her voice shaking angrily.
Brandon’s eyes turned cold as he gritted his teeth and put Diana down. Without saying a word, he grabbed her wrist and marched her to the bathroom. With a serious expression, he shoved her under the shower.