Chapter 7

There was an unperturbed look in Iris’ eyes. She answered without a change of expression, “Yes.” Hugh wanted nothing more than to strangle Iris right there. She had always had a knack for fanning the flames of anger inside him with a few measly words. This was the same woman who was down on her knees begging him to show her mercy, claiming that she did not want to work as a party girl as if even having to drink with customers was too much for her. Now, however, she was already taking a man to a room with her? Was it merely an act yesterday? The girl who was once the prim, esteemed rose of Capital—oh how she had fallen from grace, all just for a quick buck! Without realizing what he was doing, Hugh found himself grabbing Iris by her wrist and dragging her to the end of the corridor. He slammed her against the wall, “He’s got a twisted fetish. Are you sure you want to go with him?” “He promised me three million. I’d go with you too if you can offer me three million,” Iris stated crassly. “Iris, you’re something alright.” He bit every word. Was Hugh concerned about her? Iris knew that was impossible. He was probably only concerned about someone dying in his nightclub. “Boss, if you don’t mind, I have work to do. Don’t worry, I’m not going to get myself killed.” With that, she walked away and went to the man with the ugliness fetish before affectionately taking his arm in hers. “Let’s go.” “What did he say to you?” the man asked curiously. He had a feeling that Hugh seemed to care about this ugly girl whom he managed to fetch. Suppose that Hugh also had a fetish for ugly girls? “It’s nothing important,” Iris brushed it off. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Claire who looked like she wanted to step in. With a brisk shake of her head, she signaled for Claire not to interfere. The man with the fetish dropped the subject and led Iris into the elevator. After he watched the two figures disappearing into the elevator, Hugh’s face fell. Forget it. If she was suicidal, then go ahead. Rowan’s daughter certainly deserved to be tortured. How could he possibly be foolish enough to feel an ounce of pity for his mortal enemy’s daughter? - Iris followed the man up to the presidential suite located on the top floor. As soon as they stepped into the room, his demeanor shifted abruptly. He ruthlessly threw Iris onto the bed. Then, he produced a signed cheque for three million dollars out of his pocket and slapped it against Iris’ face, “Here! Now, it’s my turn to enjoy my prize!” Iris seized the check, noting the written sum on it. Then, she closed her eyes and lay prostrate there like someone who had accepted their impending death. Her submissiveness only further excited the man. The man promptly grabbed a whip from the bedside table before climbing onto the bed as well. He stood over Iris like a master in possession of his slave and began to whip her. Brutal and relentless, he threw every bit of himself into every lash of the whip. The whip cracked and beat into Iris’ back and behind without mercy. Iris’ skin was being viciously torn apart. Pain seeped through her body and blood splattered everywhere. The gruesome scene only served to excite the man’s sadistic side. He began brazenly roaring in laughter. Iris was drenched in a cold sweat from the pain, but she bit down on her lower lip to keep herself from screaming aloud. It was her fault that Rei died. What did it matter that she was suffering something like this if it meant she could take care of Tracy? Over time, her consciousness began to fade. Not a part of her body was left intact… Her skin was almost dyed red at this point. No. This was not going to be enough to kill her. However, she felt as if she was going to faint. That was when the door was thrown open with a mighty crash! Amid her lapses of consciousness, she seemed to have made out the shape of Hugh approaching her. His aura was severe and icy as if he was the manifestation of the grim reaper coming to claim her! The moment Hugh saw the bloodied woman in bed, he was consumed with a burst of anger. With his strong and mighty hands, he seized the other man’s shirt and threw him to the ground. He reached for the bedside lamp and mercilessly smashed it against the man’s face before roaring, “Get out!” The man’s face was covered in blood… Even then, he dared not oppose Hugh. All he could do was swallow his anger and scramble out of the room like a vermin. The door shut. Hugh fixed his eyes on Iris. He had never seen her in such a state. Even on that night five years ago, she was nowhere near such a ruinous shape. Iris looked like a rabbit skinned alive by hunters, hanging on by her very last breath. The sight of it drove him up the wall. Upon meeting Hugh’s bloodthirsty eyes, Iris crawled out of the bed. Her body shivered with every inch of movement she made. With tremendous effort, she dragged her shattered, bloodied body, and managed to climb out of bed. She staggered over to Hugh and offered the check to him with her hands still dripping blood… “Boss, a nine-to-one split, that means three hundred thousand dollars for me. I will ask Claire to give me my share. You can take this…”