His Perfect Trap, My Perfect Revenge

Chapter 7

Third Person POV

"Come on, Chelsea! We were just messing with you. Let's go back inside and have some cake," Sabrina chirped, just as Alaric's car vanished around the corner.

With a light push, she nudged Chelsea and Magnus back toward the KTV. But the second the private room door swung open, Sabrina shoved Chelsea hard—so hard she nearly face-planted onto the floor. By the time she whirled around, the door had already clicked shut, locked from the outside.

"Sabrina! Open the door!" Chelsea pounded her fists against it, but the hallway remained dead silent. No response.

She lost track of how long she'd been trapped before the door creaked open again. But it wasn't Sabrina. It wasn't anyone she recognized.

Instead, four men swaggered in—grinning, greasy, and radiating trouble.

"Well, well," one of them drawled, eyes raking over her. "Ain't she something?"

"Damn, hit the jackpot tonight. Get paid and get lucky?"

"Next time a job like this pops up, you better call me first, man."

Their crude laughter filled the room as they closed in on her.

Chelsea clutched her bag, backing up until her shoulders hit the wall. Her fingers trembled as she fished out the small knife she'd stashed earlier—just in case. Meeting Alaric here was supposed to be her exit strategy. But nothing had gone right.

Now, her only lifeline was the blade shaking in her grip.

The men kept advancing, cornering her.

"W-what do you want?" Her voice wavered.

"Relax, sweetheart. We'll take it easy," the ringleader sneered, exchanging a look with the others before fanning out around her. "No need to be scared," he murmured, reaching for her. "Let me show you a good time…"

He lunged.

Chelsea slashed the knife across his arm.

"Damn, she's got claws!" He grinned, licking the blood off his skin instead of retreating. "I like 'em feisty."

With a sickening smirk, he unbuckled his belt and signaled the others to restrain her.

They wrestled the knife away, slamming her onto the couch. No matter how hard she fought, four against one was no contest.

"Let me go!" she screamed. "My father will destroy you!"

They only laughed.

Fingers clawed at her clothes. "Please… just stop…"

But her pleas were useless. She sobbed, her body trembling as they tore at her defenses.

In the end, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the worst.

Then—BANG!

The door exploded off its hinges.

Magnus stormed in, his face black with fury.