Chapter 5

A red-shirted man whistled right then and said, "Cutie, it's Tom who lost this round. I don't mind helping you take off your dress though." With that, Jim Brown pushed off the woman on his lap and strode straight toward Iris. His shirt was already unbuttoned, revealing the scratch marks left by the woman before. Iris trembled and desperately grabbed Thomas who was leaving. She begged tearfully, "Thomas, please help me…" Jim only grinned more evilly as he said, "Cutie, Tom is a man of his word. Since he gave you away. He's not going to help you." Seeing Jim reaching out, Iris panickily threw herself into Thomas' arms, shuddering even as she hid her face on his firm chest. Thomas fixed his eyes on Jim, and the latter grinned darkly and said, "Not breaking promises now, are you, Tom?" Thomas merely flicked his lighter with a loud snap, lighting his cigarette as he looked coolly at the girl trembling in his arms. "Let go," he told her mercilessly, only for her to clench tighter on his jacket and shake her head anxiously. However, he simply pried her fingers off his jacket, threw her onto the couch, and strode toward the door. Talk about ice-cold! Everyone looked on in interest, while Jim advanced on Iris with an evil smile. "Bon appetit." In the heat of the moment, Iris grabbed the glass Thomas used and threw it at Jim—it fell to the floor and shattered into pieces at his feet, leaving Jim stunned. Then, Iris reached for a shard. Before he could stop her, she sliced it through her slender wrist! The other men were stunned by the defiance of the delicate-looking girl, whereas Jim promptly caught her wrist, putting pressure on the slit—but it was already bleeding profusely. "Tom!" he yelled at Thomas who had stepped out of the room. Iris flinched and cowered, snapping in panic, "Let me go!" Jim, however, glared at her furiously and barked, "No! What the hell is wrong with you?! This isn't worth dying for!" The door was pushed open as Thomas returned. Seeing what Jim was doing and quickly understanding the situation, he snapped at Kenny with a cigarette in his mouth, "Get a first aid kit." "Yes, Mr. Franklin," Kenny replied and promptly left. Iris defiantly looked at Thomas as he approached and said, "I'm not a gambling chip." Jim let her wrist go just then, and she started to bleed profusely again. Thomas held her bloodied hand and stared darkly at the cut, while Kenny soon returned with the first aid kit before opening it on the table. Everyone in the private room was silent as Thomas tended to Iris personally—they all knew full well that Thomas' true profession was initially in the medical field, and it came as a surprise that he took over leadership of the Franklin estate later. She did not actually cut herself too deep. After Thomas sterilized the cut and bandaged it, he said, "Bring a blanket, Kenny." Kenny soon returned with one and handed it to him, while Iris stared into Thomas' cold eyes, flustered and unsure what he was up to. He wrapped it tightly around her and reached underneath it with one hand. He then snapped coolly, "I have to do it since you won't listen!" Iris froze as she felt her zipper being pulled down. "No!" However, Thomas continued to strip her underneath the blanket as everyone else looked on. She was naturally afraid to return their gazes, let alone move. Meanwhile, her clothes were being thrown unceremoniously on the table one after the other as he destroyed her dignity. She sobbed silently, her cheeks covered in tears. Cedric Hunt suddenly said, "Let’s call it a day, Tom. See you around." With that, he left, and everyone quickly followed suit; they were certainly too scared to tarry. Though Thomas had stripped Iris naked, they could not even see her feet as the blanket covered her completely—even her white undergarments were hidden beneath her white dress on the table. As the last person left the room and the door closed, they could be heard talking in the hallway. "What's gotten into Tom?" "Dunno. Who's the chick anyway?" "Hell if I know. But I do know that Jim's dead meat since he triggered her suicide." Jim grimaced, but he was furious nonetheless. "How did I know that she was that timid? Also, do have some insider information, Ced?" Cedric appeared pensive. "Actually, she resembles someone." Even with her mask on, there was something about her presence that he recognized at first sight… - Meanwhile, Iris was brought to an empty bedroom, still wrapped only in that blanket. Thomas left as soon as he brought her there. There was no other clothing anywhere, while the door was locked outside. She cried herself to sleep and was still alone when she woke up, but there was food on the table this time. She did not touch it, however, and starved herself for a day until Thomas returned at 10 PM. His visage was cold as ever, and he was wearing a black shirt and dress pants, holding a cigarette between his fingers. "Trying to starve yourself to death?" There was impatience in his cool voice, his eyes glancing at the bandages over her wrist as he sneered. "Or maybe you think I'd care if you die?" Iris' face was pale, her eyes glinting with tears. "I want clothes," she said in a shaky voice. Her voice was enfeebled, and there was a dull pain in her stomach. Thomas strode toward her, grabbing her chin with his left hand while brushing his fingers over her lips. "Your stomach hurts, doesn't it?" he asked icily. Iris stiffened instantly and looked at him in surprise while his grin broadened. "There's food, but you refused to eat—now enjoy the pain." He snuffed out the cigarettes on the ashtray then and turned to leave the room, taking all the food with him and leaving nothing for her. In the next room, there were cameras that he could watch her with anyway. She was curling up into a ball under her blanket, shuddering. Even as the pain grew very violent, she only quietly shed tears. - Iris was too muddled to tell how long had passed. Eventually, she heard the door open, and someone entered to pick her up. It was a man who growled, "You're not dead yet." Iris slowly opened her eyes to see Thomas. "Soup…" she mumbled—it hurt to even speak. Thomas whipped out his phone and made a call, and a waitress soon arrived with a steaming bowl of chicken soup, although it was past three in the morning. She was at full attention nonetheless and exceedingly respectful. "Mr. Franklin." "Put it down and get out," Thomas growled coolly. She quickly left. Iris started to reach for the bowl, but Thomas caught her wrist just as she reached out of her blanket. There was a sinister twinkle in his eyes as his grin broadened. "I get to decide how you eat." With that, Iris watched as he took a sip of soup and then jammed his lips against hers, force-feeding her. Iris felt chills in her heart, and she shoved him in panic. However, he grabbed her chin and forced her to open her mouth.