The air was thick with smoke, and the dim, flickering light cast ghostly shadows across the grimy room.
Two thugs lounged on a battered sofa, nursing their drinks, while Emma knelt beside them, carefully refilling their glasses.
She kept her head down, trying to blend into the background, hoping to avoid their cruel scrutiny.
With each move, she aimed to make as little noise as possible, thankful that, at least for now, their demands were limited to having her serve them drinks. They treated her like an inanimate decoration, a silent vase, rather than subjecting her to more degrading tasks.
She couldn't forget the gang's brutal methods for extracting "debts." It was a twisted game of violence and terror. She had seen them blindfold unfortunate souls, setting them loose only to be hunte
