Forbidden

On a summer night, the city was ablaze with lights, hosting a world-renowned luxurious yacht party.

Phoebe stood still by the window like a beautiful statue, not moving an inch.

However, her hands at her sides were clenched tightly, her knuckles pale. The sea breeze brushed her face, but all she could feel was a bone-chilling cold. The moonlit night outside was mesmerizing, yet she had no heart to appreciate it.

Watching the elite guests move across the yacht's deck, each of them radiated an aura of wealth and prestige. They whispered in low voices, laughing softly, clinking their glasses in elegant toasts.

She smiled bitterly. This was the stark difference between the rich and the poor.

The world was never fair, and all she could do was use her body to save her family.

Raising her eyes to the empty night sky, her heart filled with a deep sadness. She felt utterly lost.

"Follow me." A deep, magnetic voice came from behind her.

Phoebe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling in turmoil. She struggled for a long moment before finally loosening her clenched fists. A self-deprecating smile crossed her lips. At this point, did she even have a choice?

She was just a student, meant to enjoy the carefree life that kids her age had. Yet here she was—about to engage in such a dirty transaction.

Steeling herself, she summoned every ounce of strength and courage she had left, following the man the bar manager had introduced to her.

With each step, she tried to calm her breathing, gripping the hem of her dress tightly as she silently passed through lavish hallways. The luxurious evening gown accentuated her graceful figure, her delicate shoulder blades peeking through, but the exposed skin on her back sent an uncomfortable chill down her spine.

She was always conservative by nature, and this was the first time she had worn such revealing clothes. It made her feel uneasy.

"Remember what I told you?"

"Mm-hmm."

The man leading the way had been sent by the buyer. He was young, handsome even, but cold and distant, making him difficult to approach.

He guided her through the hallway and into an elevator. It ascended quickly, stopping at the 36th floor.

When the doors slid open, she followed him into an empty corridor, the silence suddenly filling her with dread. She clasped her hands behind her back, struggling to hold on to her courage.

She kept reminding herself: Phoebe, you can't back out now. For your parents, for your brother, for your family, you have to face this.

Soon, they stopped in front of a room. The man turned to her and gave one final instruction.

"Remember what I said. If you don't follow the rules, I can't guarantee you'll leave here alive." His voice was cold, chilling her to the bone.

Phoebe nodded, her mind racing to recall the forbidden rules.

First, no resistance. Second, no kissing. Third…

"After it's over, take this pill. The boss doesn't want any trouble."

Phoebe took the small white pill from him. She didn't know what it was, but the man had been clear—she had to obey.

If she broke even one of the rules, she wouldn't get a single penny.

She had no choice but to accept.

"You can go in now."

"Okay." Phoebe pressed her lips together, feeling as though her feet had turned to lead, each step harder than the last.

She wanted to run—so badly.

But was it too late to back out now?

The thought of her brother, Gordon, sent a wave of pain through her heart. She couldn't just watch him die! In her memories, he was kind, smart, and talented. He could still be saved. If they could pay off the loan sharks, if he could get clean from drugs, he could start fresh and live a new life.

This was her only chance—if she didn't take it, he was as good as dead.

With renewed determination, she steeled herself, raising her hand to knock.

With a soft creak, the door slowly opened.

She forced herself to step inside, her heart pounding as the door clicked shut behind her. The sound echoed in her chest, and a wave of panic surged through her. She trembled uncontrollably, waiting in the thick silence.

For a long time, nothing happened. She exhaled shakily, her rigid body relaxing slightly.

No one was there.

Ignoring the luxurious surroundings, she quickly scanned the room for the bathroom, then rushed inside.

Her first task was clear: she needed to clean herself, and then, like a prostitute, lie on the bed and wait for the man to arrive.

The luxurious bathroom was filled with a delicate feminine fragrance.

Standing before the mirror, surrounded by mist, Phoebe resembled a beautiful goddess, motionless, her hands by her sides, fingers curled tightly into fists. Her nails dug deep into her palms.

Despite her young age, her figure was flawless, her skin fair and soft. In the mirror, her delicate, pinkish body was wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her white skin glowed with a delicate blush, like cherry blossoms in spring, and droplets of water glistened as they slid down her skin.

Her face, bare of makeup, was still stunning. She hadn't applied any, knowing that the man didn't like it. Yet her face was pale, drained of color from fear, like a porcelain doll that could shatter at any moment.

Her long lashes drooped, and droplets of water clung to them like unshed tears. Her once-rosy lips were now colorless, etched with deep bite marks.

Soon, she would sell her innocence to a mysterious man.

Her heart twisted in agony, but…

She had to keep going.

Stepping out of the bathroom, her fear surged once more.

Suddenly…

All the lights went out.