Scarlet Enchantment

Chapter 6

The overwhelming terror rendered Emily speechless. She clenched her teeth so tightly they chattered, and her hands pressed down on the table with all her might, trying to create enough noise to alert others. She wanted to stand up and bolt for the door. But it was all in vain. Her body went limp in the chair, her hands lacking the strength even to knock the plates off the table.

Her vision darkened, and just before she lost consciousness, she saw him sitting there, quietly watching her, a faint, cold smile playing on his lips, his gaze indifferent and unfeeling.

She didn't know how long she had been out when she jolted awake. The first thing she saw was an absurdly large chandelier, its countless crystal pendants refracting blinding light.

"Awake?" he asked.

She struggled to sit up, instinctively shrinking away from the direction of his voice. The room was vast. Damian sat on a distant sofa, watching her, his lips curled in a faintly pleased smile. "Miss Carter, your physical condition is quite impressive. You woke up a full half-hour earlier than I expected."

Emily's resilience wasn't just physical; she had an extraordinary mental toughness, which was how she survived the incident four years ago. Fear caused her panic, but her rational mind urged her to calm down quickly. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, accepting her current situation. She asked in a trembling voice, "Are you human or ghost?"

Damian let out a soft, mocking laugh. "How could the intelligent and brave Miss Carter ask such a foolish question?"

Indeed, it was a foolish question, revealing her current panic. There were no ghosts in this world, and Sebastian Lane couldn't come back to life. The only possibility was that he had never died. He hadn't died and had come to seek revenge on her!

Her past nightmares had become reality; the demon she deeply feared was right in front of her.

It felt as if she had been transported back to that scene four years ago. He sat there, looking at her with cold eyes, his indifferent gaze sharp as a knife. He said, "Clean it up. Leave no traces."

No! This was even worse than four years ago. He was like a vengeful spirit crawling out of hell. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face, her body trembling violently. But she wasn't a woman who only knew how to cry and beg. She stared at him, her voice still trembling, but her heart growing resolute. "What do you want? To kill me?"

"Kill you?" He chuckled softly and shook his head slowly. "If I wanted to kill you, would I need to go through all this trouble?"

Since he didn't want to kill her, he must want to torment her. Crying and begging would be useless and might only make him more vicious. She suppressed her fear, her mind racing to find another way to survive. "Sebastian Lane, let's calm down and talk rationally. How about that?"

He squinted slightly at her, finding her completely different from four years ago. This woman always managed to surprise him. "Talk about what?" he asked with interest. "Tell me I should let you go, and you promise not to report me to the police? We both forget the past and start over?"

That was indeed her original intention. Emily pursed her lips and then said, "No, I'm just curious. How did you escape from prison?"

He was slightly surprised, raising an eyebrow. "Miss Carter, you really do surprise me time and again. It makes me even more certain that our upcoming game will be more interesting."

Emily couldn't fathom his thoughts, so she cautiously responded, "What game?"

He lounged on the sofa, his long legs crossed casually. "To turn a woman of impeccable background, well-educated, and in a respected profession, into a debased, depraved prostitute."

She shivered uncontrollably.

Her reaction amused him. He slowly curled his lips. "Miss Carter, you come from a clean background, have received a good education, and hold a respected profession. Such a dazzling person being tainted little by little until thoroughly filthy. Don't you think that would be very interesting?"

This was the most vile and despicable revenge in the world.

There was a soft knock on the door, and several men filed in. Emily sensed the danger, rolling off the wide bed and continuing to back away until her back hit the cold wall.

Damian stood up and walked over, stopping just a short distance from her. He threw a knife in front of her. "Take it. Show me how you killed."

It was a small, sharp fruit knife, just like the one she used four years ago.

A small-built man stepped forward and grabbed her, pulling her up. She struggled desperately, her hand grasping the knife on the floor. But before she could stab the man, her wrist was caught in an iron grip and twisted. The knife clattered to the floor.

A fist struck her, causing her head to loll to one side. Her ears buzzed, everything around her swaying and growing blurry. Through her hazy vision, she saw a man holding a camera, others standing around watching, and Damian sitting on the sofa, observing her.

She stopped struggling and slowly closed her eyes.

Damian lounged on the sofa, his tone as indifferent as ever. "Is that all you've got? How boring. Let's change things up."

The emaciated man climbed down, but three or four others surrounded her, holding down her limbs and forcibly injecting her with a syringe. She felt as if she had fallen into hell, uttering desperate whimpers and struggling wildly once again. "Kill me, Sebastian Lane, kill me!"

He looked indifferent and shook his head slightly. "No, I told you, I won't kill you."

The drug took effect quickly, and her consciousness gradually faded, her body controlled only by primal instincts. The scene became even more unbearable than before, the air thick with the scent of debauchery, heavy breathing mixed with sounds that made one's face flush.

In the entire room, it seemed only Damian could remain unaffected, his expression calm. He glanced at the eager man beside him and said blandly, "Kevin, you can't touch this woman. It's bad luck."

Kevin awkwardly clasped his hands together to cover his physical reaction and stammered, "I didn't mean to touch her."

He quickly glanced up, then bent down and cautiously asked Damian, "Mr. Blackwood, how long should we keep filming? These men are professionals I hired specifically.As long as you don't say stop, they can keep f*****g her nonstop until she's completely ruined. "

Damian glanced at his watch and said indifferently, "That's enough. Stop it and edit the footage. Let's see how it turns out."

The professional videographer captured every detail with exceptional skill. Whether it was Emily's intense struggle at the beginning or her subsequent entanglement with the men as the aphrodisiac took effect and desire took over her body, every moment was vividly documented. When the footage was projected onto the large screen in the screening room, every subtle reaction and movement was magnified, delivering an overwhelming visual impact. The detailed close-ups and surround sound made the scenes even more heart-pounding than witnessing them live.

Emily was wrapped in a bathrobe, sinking into the wide sofa, her lips trembling uncontrollably. She told herself not to cry, but tears kept streaming down her face. Damian sat not far from her, turning to look at her with a faint smile. "I didn't expect you to be so photogenic."

"Really? Thank you." She responded slowly, her voice hoarse and rough, like tearing fabric.

Damian looked a bit surprised, studied her for a moment, and then asked, "Will you report this to the police when you get back?"

"With this kind of footage in your hands, how could I dare?" She almost guessed his next move, forcing a contemptuous smile despite the tears flowing even more fiercely.

He smiled indifferently and said, "I knew you were a smart woman, Miss Carter. Since that's the case, let's set the rules for our future games. It's simple: you have to be available whenever I call. How about that?"

Survive! Get out of here alive! A voice screamed in her head. Emily's lips trembled as she took a deep breath and asked, "Will there be more of these recordings?"

"Probably not." He answered casually, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Honestly, making these videos is time-consuming and laborious, and I don't currently plan to turn you into a porn star. In the future, I might ask you to entertain some guests. Some people might like your type."

She closed her eyes, silently crying, and said nothing more.

Damian called in the burly man named Kevin and instructed, "It's getting late. Take Miss Carter home."

He was really going to let her go! Emily felt both nervous and excited, afraid her eyes would betray her emotions. She quickly lowered her gaze to hide it. She didn't dare to appear too eager, slowly getting up from the sofa with difficulty. Kevin, impatient, grabbed her and dragged her out.

Damian suddenly called out, "Miss Carter."

She stopped, her heart pounding, fearing he had changed his mind. But he just smiled and said lightly, "Don't report this to the police, or you'll regret it."

It sounded like a warning, but there seemed to be something else in his words. Before she could think further, Kevin covered her nose and mouth with a drug-soaked cloth.

When Emily woke up again, she was in her own home, seemingly just like any other morning. She was covered with a thin blanket, her clothes draped over the chair by the bed, and her phone placed in its usual spot on the bedside table.

The sky outside was bright; it looked like it was already nine or ten in the morning.

She slowly closed her eyes and then opened them again, repeatedly telling herself that everything last night was just a nightmare. But her physical discomfort cruelly reminded her that it wasn't a dream. She covered her head with the blanket and cried silently, reaching out to grab her phone from the table. There was a missed call from Ryan and a message: "Emily, don't leave your phone lying around. I couldn't reach you. Also, go to bed early, don't stay up late."

The timestamp showed it was sent at 10:30 last night, when she was in the hands of that demon.

Emily's hands trembled as she dialed Ryan's number, but the line was busy. After a moment of dazed silence, she suddenly sat up, ignoring her body's pain, and quickly got dressed.

Her car was parked in the driveway. In the distance, a few women were playing with their children in the community garden. Emily took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. She drove out of the community, constantly checking her rearview mirror to ensure she wasn't being followed, and headed resolutely to the police station.

"What did you say?" The officer looked shocked. "Please calm down and explain slowly."

Emily couldn't calm down. Since entering the station, she had lost her previous composure. "Sebastian Lane isn't dead. He goes by Damian now. You have to arrest him!"

The officer seemed even more confused. "Who is Sebastian Lane? And who is Damian Blackwood?"

She stood there with her mouth half open, unsure how to explain. "Officer Mitchell! I need to speak to Officer Mitchell!" She shouted, clutching at the hope that he knew what was going on.

The officer's expression turned strange. He looked at Emily, hesitated, and said, "Officer Mitchell died in a car accident a few days ago. We just held a memorial service for him yesterday."

Emily froze, doubting her ears. "What did you say?"

The officer looked at her sympathetically, stood up, and brought her a cup of hot water. "Miss Carter, please don't worry. Even though Officer Mitchell isn't here, we can still help you."

No, no one could help her!

First, her parents had suddenly won a travel prize and gone on a trip. Then Ryan was abroad for training. She was all alone, and now even Officer Mitchell, whom she thought she could turn to, had died in an accident. Were these all coincidences? How could everything be so coincidental?

She stared blankly, not saying a word. The officer couldn't help but ask, "Miss Carter, are you okay?"

Emily looked up, her eyes vacant as she gazed at the young officer in front of her. Damian's warning echoed in her mind: "Don't report this to the police, or you'll regret it."

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