The knock came again.
Harder.
"Lana. Open the fing door.*"
She trembled, still on her knees between Aiden and Marcus — her body used, dripping, glowing with sweat and sex, legs barely able to hold her up.
Marcus stood, silent, eyes locked on the door.
Aiden grabbed his jeans. "You expecting someone?"
"Ex," she whispered. "I told him it was over. He didn't believe me."
From outside, the voice turned colder.
> "You think I didn't know? I saw your car. I know you're in there. With someone else."
BOOM.
The door shook as he kicked it.
Aiden moved fast — grabbing a towel, shoving her gently behind the bed.
Marcus just stared at the door like a lion daring prey to enter.
Another voice outside.
A second man. "He brought me to watch."
Her heart dropped.
"No… no, no—he wouldn't…"
Marcus grabbed something from under his discarded jacket.
A blade.
Black steel. Clean. Sharp.
Aiden opened the drawer — pulled out a pistol.
Lana's eyes widened. "What the hell is happening?!"
Aiden looked at her.
"Your ex wasn't just an asshole. He was our next client."
Marcus cracked his neck.
"And we don't give refunds."
---
The door burst open.
Two men stepped in — one with fury in his eyes, the other with a camera, already filming.
Then everything moved fast.
A gunshot.
Screaming.
The camera clattering to the floor.
Blood on the sheets.
Moans twisted with cries.
One man begging for his life.
Another being dragged into the bathroom, door slammed, silence behind it.
---
Ten minutes later, the room was quiet again.
Lana sat on the edge of the bed, dazed, blood spattered across her thighs, Marcus wiping off the blade.
Aiden handed her a glass of water.
"You okay?"
She nodded slowly. "...What now?"
Marcus smiled.
Dark. Dangerous. Calm.
"Now? We clean up. Burn the footage. And you check out."
He handed her her phone.
"Unless…"
She looked up.
"Unless what?"
Aiden lit a cigarette, watching her with that same cocky grin.
"Unless you want to join us."
---
Fade to black.
---
THE END.