“Who are you?” Lydia asked, as panic was surging through her. She couldn’t lift her hand because they were bound with chains to the bed frame. The cold metal bit into her wrists, the pain was so intense, but she could barely register it. Her eyes were fixed on the man approaching her, his figure was large and imposing. His face was blurred, indistinct, but she could see the predatory gleam in his eyes.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, his gaze raking all over her naked body. He reached for his pants, the zipper rasping loudly in the silence of the room. He yanked them down, revealing his large and long dick as it was dangling in between his legs, so hard and fully erect.
“Who are you?” Lydia repeated, her voice trembling. What she was seeing was so massive to behold. Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat was a frantic drum. Lydia tugged at the chains, so desperate to escape, but they held firm. “What are you trying to do to me?”
The man didn’t answer. He just smiled, but it was a slow, cruel smile that sent chills down her spine.
Suddenly, Lydia jolted awake as she was being pulled by the leg by her father.“ Wake up”
Lydia gasped, her eyes flying open. She was in her own bed, the familiar posters of her favorite bands and some few arts paintings staring down at her. It was just a dream. Relief washed over her, so potent that it almost made her weak. She was safe. For now.
She sat up, her body was slick with sweat. Her heart was still racing, the lingering fear from the dream clinging to her like a second skin. She looked to the side of her bed and saw her father sitting there, watching her with a worried expression. He held a cigarette between his fingers, the tip glowing red in the dim light.
“You were making a hell of a lot of noise, Lydia,” he said, exhaling a plume of smoke.
Lydia glared at him.
He’s always smoking, she thought bitterly. He never cared about us… About his family. Not until her mother died. Then, he had suddenly become the doting father, who was trying to erase years of neglect with forced affection. She saw through his act but what can she do.
She tried to push the disturbing dream from her mind, but it was persistent, the images flashing behind her eyelids. The man’s blurred face, his cold smile… it was all so unsettling. It was so real.
Her gaze fell on her father’s hand. It was shaking slightly as he held the cigarette. What has this man done this time? He seems a little off tonight. A knot of dread tightened in her stomach as Lydia pondered.
Just then, a heavy knock landed on the door. Lydia’s heart leaped into her throat. She exchanged a panicked look with her father.
“Who… who’s there?” her father stammered, his voice trembling. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously towards the door.
“Pedro Gallardo is at the door, you jerk!” a rough voice shouted from the other side.
Before her father could react, a loud crash echoed through the small apartment. The door splintered and flew inward, crashing against the wall.
A large, burly man stood in the doorway, his face hard and unforgiving. He wore a dark suit, and his eyes scanned the room, settling on Lydia’s father.
“Marcus Woods,” the man said, his voice deep and menacing. “You owe Pedro Gallardo a lot of money right?”
Lydia’s father became pale. He stubbed out his cigarette, his hand shaking visibly. “I… I know,” he stammered. “I’m working on it. I’ll have the money soon….. I told Mr Pedro yesterday at his club”
The man laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “You’ve been saying that for months, Woods. And Gallardo’s patience is wearing thin.” He took a step into the room, his eyes flicking to Lydia, who had pulled the sheet up to her chin. “Looks like you have a pretty daughter,” he said, with a cruel glint in his eyes.
Lydia’s father stepped forward, putting himself between the man and Lydia. “Leave her out of this,” he said, his voice trembling but firm. “This is between me and Mr Pedro… Don't put my daughter to this”
The man chuckled. “Everything is Mr Gallardo’s business, Woods. Everything!.” He gestured to two other men who had entered the apartment behind him. “We’re here to collect what you owed him Marcus.”
“I told you, I’m working on it!” Lydia’s father repeated, his voice rising in desperation. “Just give me a little more time.”
“Time is up, Woods,” the man said coldly. He turned to one of the men behind him. “Take her!!”
