"Aaaa... this feels so nice..."
"I haven't felt this relaxed in ages..."
"Aaa... it's like I'm in the heaven of relaxation..."
"The sweet, soothing smell of lavender..."
"Magic hands soothing and massaging my body... aaa... this has never felt so good."
"Wait... 'magic hands soothing and massaging my body'? What the hell! Who is touching me!"
Alisha shot her eyes open to discover she was in a spa room—naked—and two women were oiling and massaging her body.
She struggled to sit upright and confront the ladies, but they pinned her firmly to the bed so she couldn't move.
She tried to speak, to demand an explanation, but her tongue felt heavy and unresponsive. The only thing she could do was scream and curse in her mind until the women were done.
She was then forcefully dressed in a spa robe before being dragged to a salon, where her golden-brown wavy hair was curled and showered with glitter. Her face was adorned with makeup. She was then taken to the dressing room, where she was forced to wear a beautiful, shoulder-to-floor golden glittery gown and golden heels. Her neck was adorned with a golden necklace bearing a large heart-shaped pendant. Her ears were clipped with golden heart-shaped earrings, and a small golden crown was placed atop her head.
Alisha turned to face the full-length mirror. She gasped as she took in the sight of herself. She was beautiful—breathtaking. She looked exactly like a princess from a fairytale.
"Mmmm..."
She turned to face an elderly woman wearing a black and white formal suit. The woman had small round eyes, a delicate nose, rosy lips, and curly grey hair. She wore spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose.
"Good afternoon, Miss," the woman said, inclining her head slightly in greeting.
Alisha, still confused and dumbfounded by the events, couldn't find the words to reply. She simply inclined her head in return.
"Please follow me," the elderly woman said, motioning for Alisha to come along.
They exited the room and entered a spacious hallway adorned with luxurious furniture and expensive décor. Alisha was captivated—awed by the exclusive displays.
'This place must belong to someone powerful', she thought, a flicker of fear rising in her chest.
'Who could it be? Is it Montenegra? No... no, I don't think so. With all the ghastly things I've heard about that man, he wouldn't do something like this. Could it be... huh! Mr. X? Did he kidnap me to punish me by making me work as a prostitute? No! It can't be! Even if it is him, he does have a very weird taste in entertainment...'
She followed the elderly woman through the massive mansion for several minutes until they reached the end of the hallway, where two tall double doors stood. The woman paused and turned to look at her.
She then approached her in slow, deliberate steps. Alisha flinched slightly as the woman drew near. She raised her hands defensively when the woman also lifted hers, as if to strike. But the woman simply shook her head and gently placed her hands on top of Alisha's head. Alisha felt a slight adjustment before the woman lowered her hands and looked at her.
"Your crown was crooked, Miss," she said with a small smile.
"You really are a feisty one, eh?"
Alisha flushed and looked down in embarrassment. The woman smiled again before walking toward the door and opening it. She took a few steps inside, then turned and gestured for Alisha to follow.
Alisha glanced at her briefly, took a small, steadying breath, and stepped into the room.
Her breath caught at the sight of the magical décor. Golden chandeliers glimmered in the light. Roses of every color were arranged and arrayed so spectacularly, she felt like she had just walked into a fairytale movie.
The room was filled with red and gold velvet-covered furniture. It looked like a royal banquet hall in a palace. Alisha even began to wonder if she hadn't been kidnapped by a prince.
She approached the staircase leading to the lower floor.
And there he was.
The man of the castle. The man of the hour. Standing at the bottom of the stairs with his back to her. He was draped in a luxurious tuxedo that screamed millions. His physique wasn't bad either—delicately sculpted beneath the tailored suit.
Alisha began to descend the stairs slowly, imagining herself as a princess going to meet her prince. Even though she knew she was walking into a lion's den, she chose to enjoy the moment. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience—one she never dreamed would happen to her. Even though she was obviously being treated like a prostitute, she couldn't let this fleeting moment of fairytale bliss pass her by. Who knew if she'd live another day to feel it again?
'Maybe', she thought, 'maybe I can use my charms to win him over. Maybe I can convince him to let me go. To let me escape. Maybe I won't have to sacrifice my life to preserve my dignity.'
With those thoughts, Alisha smiled faintly as she approached the man.
She paused near the bottom of the stairs, smiling, waiting for him to turn around and receive her.
However, her smile faltered the moment the man turned around and faced her—smiling brightly as well.
'You've got to be fucking kidding me...'
Before her stood Travis, smiling brightly with his cocky, smug grin.
Alisha felt an overwhelming urge to rip the crown off her head and smack it across his face—but she held her cool. If this brat was capable of having her kidnapped and dragged here, it meant he came from a powerful family. One wrong move could get messy.
'Oh God, how I'd love to mop the floor with that smug, grinning face of his. Hmph! Keep it together, Alisha. Keep it together. Just make sure to keep Lefty nice and steady in case we need to hit the road and get out of here if he tries anything!'
She glanced at his lower half, subtly shifted her left leg, and eyed him sternly.
Travis could see the fiery anger burning in her eyes. He knew she was pissed—and ready to strike. His body flinched slightly under her intense gaze, but not from fear. From anticipation.
He wanted to feel her hands on him—even if they were beating the daylights out of him. As long as she was touching him, he didn't mind.
He approached her slowly, still smiling.
"You're looking even more exceptionally beautiful today, Miss Alisha. I'm truly honored to have such a stunning princess in my presence. I am much obliged."
He leaned forward to take her left hand and kiss it.
Alisha growled.
"Don't overdo it, Mr. Dork. This... princess doesn't care for such pleasantries—especially not from spoiled rich brats in tuxedos. So I strongly advise you tread carefully, or your royal butt will end up at the bottom of the stairs."
Travis chuckled.
"Well, I wouldn't mind at all," he said, leaning closer and whispering,
"As long as it's kicked by you."
He winked and smirked.
Alisha was speechless.
"You...!"
"Mrs. McCoy!" Travis called out.
The elderly woman who had accompanied Alisha stepped into view and bowed slightly.
"Yes, young master?"
"Please serve the food. My guest and I are quite hungry. It must've been exhausting for her to travel all this way and prepare herself for me. She must be starving."
'Prepare myself for him?
Is he implying I came here of my own free will to play dress-up and have this stupid fancy brunch? The nerve of this brat!'
Alisha fumed.
"Listen to me, you spoiled little bra—" she began, eyes blazing. However...
Grrrrgrrrrr!
A low grumble echoed in the room. She turned to locate the sound—until her eyes landed on her own stomach.
Then it hit her. She hadn't eaten anything since the cereal she'd had that morning. She was starving.
Talk about the worst possible timing for her stomach to betray her.
Alisha blushed and exhaled slowly to calm her embarrassment.
Travis chuckled.
"Guess you're having brunch with this spoiled rich brat after all."
He nodded to Mrs. McCoy, who bowed and exited the room. Then he turned back to Alisha.
"Well? Shall we?" he offered, extending his hand.
But Alisha simply eyed him coldly, grabbed the hem of her gown, and brushed past him, descending the stairs and heading straight for the table.
Travis chuckled as he watched her sit down with a huff.
His beauty was truly feisty—and it turned him on even more. He was already a bad boy, so having a feisty girl by his side? That was just a bonus.
He swept his hair back with a hand in a sexy, cool gesture, smiled, and descended the stairs to join his beauty at the table.
.....
Meanwhile
A black car with tinted windows pulled up in an alley just a few blocks from Lancaster University. A man with golden-brown hair, wearing a black jacket, jeans, and sneakers, stepped out. He was also wearing shades.
Another man with wavy brown hair, dressed in a dark green jacket, black jeans, and sneakers—also wearing shades—exited the car and followed him.
"Well... this looks like a conspicuous place to ask for help. I wonder what happened?" said the man with the wavy brown hair.
The man with the golden-brown hair snickered.
"Well... there's only one way to find out."
The two men moved deeper into the alley, where they found two boys huddled in a corner. One was crouched on the ground, looking like he was crying, while the other stood over him, trying to calm him down.
Hearing the movement, the standing boy turned and approached them.
"Mr. Hammock, I'm so glad you're here," he said, looking at the man in the dark green jacket. His eyes widened as they locked onto the other man beside him.
"Mr. Phillips... what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be sick and resting in bed?"
He then turned back to Davis.
"Does Patricia know about this?"
Davis shook his head.
"Relax, kid. It's okay. He's only here temporarily—and he practically begged me to take him out for some air. Patricia knows he's out, but she doesn't know we're here. So fill us in. What happened? Why does Patricia's brother look like a man who's just lost everything?"
Peter sighed.
"Because that's exactly what it feels like right now."
He turned to look at Zach.
"Alisha has gone missing."
"What!!"
Both Davis and Isaac exclaimed in unison.
"What do you mean, gone missing? What happened?" Isaac asked as he approached Zach slowly.
"I don't know," Peter replied.
"I came to their university earlier to ask Alisha to be my partner for the Summerfest dances. I gave her pink roses as my way of asking. After we spoke for a while, she said something urgent had come up and that we'd talk later. Her face looked tense and disturbed—like she needed to confirm something. So after a while, I started looking for her. That's when I bumped into Zach... and I saw he had the same pink roses I'd given Alisha. I asked him where he found them, and he said they were lying on the ground. When I told him I'd given them to Alisha, he started panicking and freaking out. I asked him again where he found them, but he didn't answer. So I went back in the direction he came from and found a piggy keychain on the ground. I brought it back to him and asked if he recognized it. He freaked out even more, saying it belonged to Alisha—it had been her bag accessory for years. Then he collapsed, mumbling that it was his fault. And ever since, he's been like this—whimpering and crying, not saying anything."
Davis looked at Isaac, who was now crouching beside Zach.
"Did you search the school?" he asked.
"Yes, we did. I even asked some of my father's men to help us search. But nothing. It's like she just vanished. I had to call you since you're the closest ones to the Milton family. I got your number from Zach's phone—it was saved as 'Call in case of emergency.' So I called."
Davis sighed.
"You did good, kid. Now let's see if we can find her."
He turned to Isaac.
"Hey... Zach," Isaac said gently.
"Hey, man. We're going to find her, alright? There's no need to worry. Everything's going to be okay. We'll find her."
"It's all my fault..." Zach whispered.
"It's all my fault..."
Isaac placed a hand on his leg.
"Hey... it's not your fault, Zach. I'm sure there's an explanation for all this, and we're going to find it. We're going to find her, okay?"
He turned to Davis, who nodded in understanding and stepped away to make a call.
Isaac was startled when he felt a strong grip on his hand. He turned and saw Zach looking at him with pleading, red-rimmed eyes.
"Please find her. Don't. Tell. Patricia. I don't know what she'll do to me if she ever finds out," Zach whispered.
Isaac placed his hand over Zach's, trying to comfort and reassure him that he would find Alisha—no matter what. But then his eyes were drawn to Zach's swollen cheek. There were hand marks on it, bruised and raw.
He had been slapped. Hard.
Isaac felt his body tremble. There was more to this than he'd realized—and he was going to find out.
"I just talked to B," Davis said, returning from the call.
"He's already mobilized a team to look for her. It won't be long before they sniff out her location."
"Actually... there's no need," Peter said.
Everyone turned to face him.
"Why?" Isaac asked.
"Because my father's men just found her location."
Zach looked up and sprinted toward him.
"Where? Where is she? Is she okay?"
Peter hesitated.
"I don't know if she's okay. But hold your luck—because I don't like where she is."
"Where is she?" Isaac asked again.
Peter took a deep breath and looked at them intently.
"She's... at Alexander Morales's house." He paused.
"At Mr. X's mansion."
Zach felt his mind go blank, his vision blur. His body gave out beneath him—until strong arms caught him.
"Alisha, no..."
He mumbled, before darkness consumed him.