Time flew by…Carmella was reviewing a few documents at home when Devon pulled up to take her out. She tucked the documents in her bag and got in without saying a word.
The ride there was quiet, and before long they had pulled up at a lounge. But she knew the name from somewhere – it was the same lounge Marco had set to meet with her.
She couldn't shake the feeling that the day had something in stall for her, she didn't know what it was – with this, a gradual unfolding of fate, she hoped.
As soon as they stepped into the room, the loud pounding music made her tense, and an instinctive frown appeared.
She couldn't recognize anyone from the room, all but Martina and Devon, they all seemed to be there for someone else, something else.
Just as she looked around, Sofia walked in and the room leveled up, it was as though she was the missing piece of the party.
She walked straight on to Carmella, and with a smile so strung you could barely see her teeth, she said, "this was to be my welcome party, but Devon insisted on making it your birthday make over… so here I am, just tagging along and I invited a few friends. I hope you don't mind me being here."
Carmella couldn't help but let out a soft grunting chuckle, so this was her party? Looked more like Sofia's in disguise.
Just then Martina approached her holding two glasses of wine.
"I'm sorry about yesterday" she said with a grin, "I didn't mean to shove you like that, please don't be angry." She added before extending her arm, offering Carmella a drink.
Carmella's eyes flicked from the drink to Devon, who was smoking silently nearby, he didn't say a word as he nodded his head to Carmella, as if to say it was okay to take the drink.
She did, but refused to drink, she made her way down to another seat at the edge of the room, away from the loud music and the crowd of strangers who hovered about Sofia.
She kept looking at the drink, when Devon sat beside her, "drink it, don't ruin the mood" he said as he placed it in front of her.
Carmella looked at the drink and quietly said nothing, but she wouldn't drink it. He grabbed her tightly and forced the drink down her throat. He finally let go as she gasped for air, no one had noticed, no one cared, so she grabbed her bag and ran for the rest room.
As she headed for the rest room, she ran into Marco stepping out of another private room. "Carmi, you're here early." He knew that face, he had seen it a few times – she was about to break down.
"Thank God! Please take me out of here Marco, I need to get out of here," she said with a cloud of tears hovering over her eyes, she could barely pull herself together.
She was starting to feel weird, something must have been in the drink – she thought to herself, so she excused Marco and went to the restroom.
After forcing herself to throw up everything she could, she finally stopped, her hands dropped to her side, exhausted.
She stared in the mirror – her makeup smeared, hair disheveled, her eyes glassy and red, with a smile she could no longer find.
She pulled herself together, fixed her makeup, straightened her outfit, and took a deep breath. Still feeling sick, she walked out of the restroom without looking back, and went down the halls with Marco to where he had parked his car.
Just as they pulled around the car, Devon appeared from behind.
"Don't you know that's a married woman you're taking off with?" he yelled.
"I do, she just wanted a lift. Nothing serious." Marco replied as they both turned around.
Devon walked up and yanked her right into his arms, "she won't be needing the lift anymore," he said rudely as he pulled her away.
"You're hurting me," she said faintly as he pulled her away, she was slowly fading out of consciousness – the way she looked at Marco, he knew she needed help, but there was nothing he could do, it was a lover's quarrel.
Devon dragged her into another private room while Sofia and Martina – his ever-present audience watched with a smile in silence. She stumbled as she fell, nearly hitting her head on the table. Before she could get up, the doors had locked from outside and all she could do was yell, "let me out of here."
A few moments passed when she heard the doors opening, finally! – she thought. She gets to walk out of that nightmare.
But as she stood up to approach the opening door, four swaggered men, grimy, and unmistakably thuggish – all dressed in neatly tailored suits walked in. they laughed crudely as she took a step back, then another, and another, until she was backed up against a wall.
"There's no need to be scared now," one of them whispered as he smacked his lips, he was clearly heading the lot.
She stuck her hand in her bag, she had snuck the table knife from the night before in it. She struck him with it the moment he was within range.
He didn't back away, he growled instead and rushed in, he was pissed. He pulled the knife off her hand and pinned her on the couch. They laughed as she struggled, and screamed to be let go, but no one could hear her, the rooms were made to keep the noise in.
Bit by bit they ripped her clothes apart, "I'm begging you," she kept crying, but like noise in the woods, they fell on deaf ears. Her dignity torn, along-side her cloth.
But as she gave up and closed her eyes, she could feel herself slipping out of consciousness when suddenly the doors burst open with a loud crash.