A Highway Call and a Silent Betrayal

The city lights faded into the rearview mirror as Amane’s sleek black sedan sped down the moonlit highway. The road ahead was smooth and empty, wrapped in a comforting darkness, pierced only by the rhythmic flash of roadside reflectors and the soft glow of her dashboard.

She had one hand on the wheel, the other gently holding her phone to her ear, her expression casual yet composed.

"Yes, Mom, I’m eating properly," she said, her tone affectionate but clipped in that way daughters often spoke to overly concerned mothers. "No, I’m not skipping meals. Yes, I wear a seatbelt. Mm-hm. And yes, I still remember how to handle myself in the city."

Her mother’s voice buzzed through the speaker, gentle and probing, asking questions about her sudden relocation, her job, and the so-called "normal life" she claimed to be pursuing.

Amane smiled faintly, eyes still on the road. "I told you, I just needed a change of air. People like us need that sometimes, right?"

There was a soft chuckle on the other end, followed by more worried prattle. But Amane’s thoughts had already begun to drift elsewhere.

‘Change of air, huh?’ she thought, a flicker of something darker swimming in her gaze. ‘Or maybe… it’s time the storm changed direction.’

The call continued for a few more moments before she gently ended it, promising to call again the next day. With a sigh, she leaned back in her seat, the night swallowing the car whole as she drove deeper into the outskirts, heading toward an undisclosed destination—one she hadn't revealed to anyone.

But elsewhere, under dimmed hotel lights, a different story was unfolding.

At the Hotel – Following Saturday Night

The hotel room was luxurious yet intimate, bathed in the muted golden hues of mood lighting. Heavy curtains cloaked the windows, muffling the city’s glow, and a faint jazz melody played from the speaker embedded in the wall. The scent of subtle cologne, high-end perfume, and something faintly spicy lingered in the air—intoxicating.

Tim Aury sat on the edge of the bed, his blazer discarded, shirt slightly unbuttoned at the top. His normally sharp, observant eyes were glassy now, slightly unfocused. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his neck and forehead. He felt the warmth pooling in his chest and sinking deeper into his limbs—a heat not caused by alcohol alone.

Across from him, Anri moved with practiced elegance.

"You're tense," she whispered as she gently unbuttoned another clasp of his shirt, her fingers cool against his heated skin. "Let me take care of you tonight, handsome."

Her voice was sultry velvet, dipping between concern and seduction with alarming ease.

Tim blinked slowly, trying to fight through the haze. "I don’t... I usually don’t do this..."

She leaned in closer, brushing her lips near his ear. "Neither do I," she breathed, "but sometimes the night just takes you somewhere you didn’t expect."

Her laughter was soft and melodic, dancing on the edge of sincerity and performance.

With every touch, every whisper, she guided him into surrender. She tucked him beneath the sheets like a lover, like someone who cared. And as he laid back, body betraying his mind, Anri stood.

Without a word, she walked over to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony and pushed them open. The cold night air rushed in, tousling her golden waves.

Pulling a sleek phone from her clutch, she dialed quickly.

The screen lit up: Stord Elen.

The call connected.

"Everything’s proceeding perfectly," Anri said, her tone now professional, colder than before. "He’s completely under. The aphrodisiac’s working just like you said. I’ll get what you need before sunrise."

Stord’s voice crackled through, low and amused. "Good. I knew I could count on you. The moment I leak this story, Tim’s little empire will start collapsing like dominoes. I want his pride in the dirt."

"I’ll deliver the video tomorrow morning," she confirmed.

There was a pause. Then she added, more softly, "He’s... something else though. Smart. He almost didn’t fall for it. Sharp instincts."

"Then it’s a good thing he drank the second glass," Stord said, voice smug. "I trust you can handle the rest?"

"Of course," Anri replied flatly. "I always do."

She ended the call and stared out into the city for a moment longer. The stars were few tonight, hidden behind the city's neon breath.

With a sigh, she slipped the phone back into her purse and turned around.

Back Inside – The Room Grows Warmer

The room was dim, soft shadows stretched across the floor as Anri stepped back in, heels clicking lightly against the marble tiles before she stepped onto the plush rug.

Tim lay motionless on the bed, his chest rising and falling heavily, eyes fluttering with the effort to stay awake. His cheeks were flushed with heat. His limbs limp.

Anri sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at him. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. Her touch was delicate, almost reverent.

"You’re really quite something," she murmured, her voice almost too soft for the walls to catch. "A sharp mind, a solid heart... A man like you shouldn't be broken like this."

She ran her fingers along the line of his jaw, admiring it. Her golden eyes reflected something complex—regret, pity, perhaps even temptation.

"But orders are orders," she said to herself. "And I’ve never failed a job."

She stood up slowly, slipping off her heels and moving toward the camera she had placed earlier in the corner, ensuring it was angled just right.

Then she turned to look at him one more time.

"You really are handsome, Tim Aury. It's a shame you ended up on the wrong list."

The room seemed to breathe with tension, and outside, the distant sound of traffic hummed beneath the stars.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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