Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm

Vanessa Hessler watched in despair as the group vanished through the wooden door at the top of the stairs.

Then, she screamed with all her might.

"Help!"

"Help me!"

She knew it was futile, but it was the only thing she could do now.

Time dragged on, second by agonizing second.

Vanessa's throat grew hoarse.

She hung her head in defeat, sobbing uncontrollably.

Upstairs, in the living room.

Giuseppe and his four thugs were bound and dumped on the floor, gagged with their own filthy socks.

"Mmmph, mmmph, mmmph…" Giuseppe thrashed, trying to communicate with the four men lounging on the sofa—tall, burly figures in black balaclavas.

These were the ones who'd swiftly overpowered the thugs and grabbed Giuseppe with ease.

The four chatted casually.

"Hey, we're really just gonna sit here? Shouldn't we rescue the lady downstairs?"

The apparent leader replied, "Who knows what's going on down there? What if she's not decent?"

"So what? We untie her, let her get dressed."

"You idiot, what if she's the boss's woman? You wanna eye his girl? Lose your balls?"

"Boss wouldn't be that petty, would he?"

"Better safe. We've been with the boss less time than Satan's crew."

"Fine, fine. How long till the boss gets here?"

"I just sent the location. Three hours."

"Till dawn?"

"Doesn't matter. This place is remote."

…

In the basement, exhausted from crying, Vanessa drifted into a fitful sleep, only to jolt awake from nightmares. Trapped in the windowless space, she'd lost all sense of time, unsure how long had passed.

All she knew was fear, hunger, and—her bladder was bursting.

She opened her mouth to call for help, then clamped it shut.

If Giuseppe's going to assault me anyway, might as well make myself as disgusting as possible.

So…

A stream of murky urine gushed out.

[GodOfReader: Martin will love this scene.]

Vanessa even strained for more, but to no avail.

Creak!

The door above scraped open.

Vanessa, half-dazed, snapped alert. Here he comes—let him choke on my stench! I'll stink him out!

The newcomer did recoil from the overpowering odor, pinching his nose.

Footsteps descended the stairs, approaching her.

Vanessa lifted her head defiantly, ready to spit venom—then froze.

"M-Martin? How are you here?"

It was Martin.

"It's me," he smiled.

"You—you're with that bastard Giuseppe? You're just like him! You're my idol—how could you?!"

Martin blinked, caught off guard by her misunderstanding.

He lowered his hand, crouching to endure the smell, and began untying her leg ropes, his voice gentle. "I'm here to save you. Mutassim asked me, before he died, to keep you safe. Sorry you had to go through this."

"You're… here to save me?"

Vanessa's shock turned to joy.

Martin nodded, standing to untie her wrists. "Giuseppe and his four goons are secured upstairs. My men are up there too."

As he freed her, Vanessa threw her arms around him, sobbing anew.

Martin awkwardly hugged the curvaceous beauty, letting her tears and snot soak his shirt.

Her cries softened, then stopped. She wasn't asleep or fainting—just mortified. She remembered her earlier accident; the stench clinging to her was a stark reminder.

She wished she could faint, to escape the embarrassment.

"I—I need a shower."

"There's a bathroom upstairs, but first, something we need to handle."

Martin thought, then fetched a blanket from upstairs, draping it over Vanessa. He helped her up the stairs.

Through the hallway to the living room, she spotted the man she loathed most.

Rage surged. Vanessa lunged at Giuseppe, pummeling him. "I'll sue you! I'll ruin you!"

Giuseppe said nothing, taking the blows, inwardly thrilled. If she sues me, that's perfect.

He was confident he'd walk free.

Then…

"Vanessa, are you sure you want to sue him? Giuseppe's got pull in Italy. Even Mutassim couldn't touch him. You think you can win?"

Hearing "Mutassim," Vanessa faltered.

Martin pressed: "And Giuseppe's vindictive. After this, he'll hate you more. I'm not worried for myself, but for you… one slip, and…"

Vanessa paled.

Martin's implication was clear. Giuseppe, a small man, had struck back the moment Mutassim died. This setback would only fuel his spite. Once Martin left… Would she live in constant fear?

"What—what do we do, Martin?"

Vanessa sounded lost.

Martin smiled.

"Vanessa, the dead are the safest."

"The dead?!"

Vanessa's eyes widened.

Martin continued: "I'm fine with it, but for your sake, better to end it once and for all."

"Mmmph, mmmph!"

Giuseppe thrashed wildly on the floor, desperate to speak, but his sock gag muffled him.