The din of a nightclub in the city center grew livelier as the night grew darker. Dim lights danced above the glittering dance floor, reflecting off crystal glasses filled with expensive drinks.
Throbbing house music shook their chests, blending with the scent of expensive perfume and drunken breaths. Shadows danced behind silk curtains, concealing secret whispers and lustful gazes.
Hollow luxury blanketed the room, but behind it lurked a terrifying darkness. It swallowed countless pairs of eyes with the beauty of a fleeting world, drowning hundreds of souls in a pit of desire.
Zara hated having to be in a place like this. She kept shifting uncomfortably and restlessly, as though some danger were secretly lurking behind her.
Again and again, Zara tugged down the fabric wrapped around her body, which only reached her thighs. But whenever her thighs were slightly covered, her upper body would slip out because the fabric was pulled taut while protecting her lower half.
Zara repeatedly ignored the lecherous greetings and flirtatious looks from the lechers. She held her breath every time their obscene whispers and flirtatious stares reached her, as though they were nothing more than air passing by.
'Damn it, why does working here make me look like a whore?!' Zara complained inwardly. The bartender behind the counter merely chuckled as he watched Zara grow increasingly distressed by the situation.
If she hadn't needed money so badly tonight, she never would have agreed to work here—a place where wild people came only to seek one-night pleasures.
But Zara wasn't looking for pleasure. She was only trying to obtain what she desperately needed.
Suddenly, a man in a disheveled black suit brazenly approached Zara and touched the girl's shoulder. His uncoordinated movements and unfocused eyes showed that he was drunk.
"Hey, bitch, want to enjoy the night with me?" he asked with a lecherous expression. The sharp smell of alcohol assaulted Zara's senses, making her nauseous at once.
"Get lost!" Zara shouted, pushing the man's shoulder. She had no intention of being polite.
The man stumbled backward and glared at the woman he had just propositioned. He felt humiliated by Zara's rejection.
"Hey, she can only pour alcohol into your glass. That doesn't mean you get to paw at her body," the bartender said while mixing a drink.
"She's just playing hard to get!" he said confidently. His eyes boldly roamed over Zara's smooth body as she glared fiercely at him.
"How much do you want to be paid? I can afford it," he said arrogantly. He felt challenged to conquer the woman standing before him.
Zara merely stared at him coldly.
The bartender quickly cut in, addressing Zara. "Hurry and take this to VVIP Room 6. I'll handle this man."
Zara promptly climbed down from her stool and put on the mask she had taken off earlier. She swept her loose hair forward, covering even more of her beautiful face. Then she left the man behind as he shouted angrily at being ignored.
"Hey, where are you going? You little naughty cat!"
Zara breathed a sigh of relief. She was now walking casually down a quiet, dimly lit hallway. She could relax a little because the corridor was so far removed from the din of music on the floor below.
In the dim, silent room, Zara entered with her trolley, wearing a friendly smile behind the cloth mask she had on. Though it couldn't be seen, Zara felt she needed to smile at her customers.
She placed the bottles and gleaming glassware, which reflected the light, on the round table surrounded by six men.
In the middle of her work, Zara was startled and began to tremble slightly when her eyes recognized a familiar face among the room's guests. Her gaze even collided briefly with the sharp glint of eyes watching her every movement.
It was Gunawan Wicaksono, the rector of the university where she studied, with whom she had crossed paths a few weeks earlier over a student demonstration.
Zara, who had been one of the student speakers at the time, had received a disciplinary sanction and an indirect threat from the rector's men. No one could deny that his power on campus was immense.
A third warning letter was already posted on her locker. The reason: "Disturbing campus order." When all she had done was stand atop the command vehicle, shouting demands for transparency in tuition-fee funding.
"If you want to graduate on time, think twice before taking action."
Those were the last words one of the rectorate staff members had said to her the week before. Words neatly wrapped as "advice," but which felt like a noose.
Zara tried to remain calm, even though her heart was now pounding with fear that the man she knew would discover her true identity.
Secretly, Zara breathed a sigh of relief once the ordered bottles were gone from her trolley. She nodded politely, turned around, and walked out of the room.
"Wait." A deep voice echoing throughout the room stopped her steps and caught the breath in her lungs.
Zara held her breath for a second. Her heart pounded even more erratically when she turned and saw that man still studying her from his seat.
"You. Come here," he commanded, his voice echoing even more strongly in the dim room.
"Take off your mask before you leave," he ordered again. His tone was loud and impossible to disobey.
"Is something wrong, sir? Is my appearance bothering you?" Zara asked gently, hoping her real voice would be disguised.
"I'm having problems with my mouth and face," Zara lied. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping he would believe her excuse.
"Take it off, or I'll accuse you of being a spy for my enemies," he accused directly, his words cutting.
Zara felt increasingly cornered. She didn't know what other excuse to use to avoid the most powerful man at her university.
"You're being too hard on her, bro. Relax. We're here to have fun," one of the men interjected casually, swigging alcohol straight from his bottle.
"It would be too risky if we let our guard down, even for a moment," muttered the man who had accused her as he lit a cigarette.
"Miss, could you take off your mask for a moment? My friend wants to see your sweet face." Another of his friends coaxed Zara flirtatiously, drawing echoing laughter from the room.
"This old man still knows how to flirt. Remember your wife and kids at home!" another one cut in.
"I guarantee I'm not anyone's spy. I'm only here to work tonight," Zara said quickly, her panic unmistakable in her voice.
"What you just said only makes me more suspicious," he said, pressing his suspicion even further. The fear on the woman's face convinced him even more that there was something suspicious about the figure before him.
Zara shook her head anxiously, her desire to get out of the room growing stronger by the second. But the man's gaze cornered her further. Inexperienced with the nightlife and with grown men, she had no idea what to do.
With the last of her courage, Zara shoved the trolley she was pushing into the table, smashing it along with the still-sealed alcohol bottles. The men fell silent for a moment at the chaos before them, but a second later, the arrogant man shouted and chased after Zara, who had already run out.
Fear shone in her eyes. She was afraid her identity would be exposed, and afraid of the trouble she would face afterward. Zara ran with all her strength down the hallway, which felt impossibly long this time.
At an intersection, she looked back while the sound of shouting echoed, though no one was visible. Zara kept running carelessly until, when she turned to face forward again, her body collided with a large, tall figure who wasn't prepared to catch her.
They both crashed to the floor, with Zara landing hard on top of him. They froze for a moment before that voice frightened her again. Panicking, Zara spotted a slightly open door to her right.
And somehow, drawing on strength from who knew where, she managed to roll into the room after kicking the door open with one foot, taking the man she had knocked down with her.
Zara quickly slammed the door shut, her heart still racing. She was so frightened that both her hands gripped the shoulders of the figure beneath her.
"You hurt me," groaned the man pinned beneath her. Tama, the man now trapped under Zara, could see the disheveled face above him, its mask hanging half open.
Zara jerked in surprise and looked down at the face she was still straddling. Without having time to process anything, she immediately stood and repeatedly bowed, apologizing.
But the man didn't answer. Tama merely stood, rolling his shoulders after they had been pressed down so forcefully.
Tama looked around the empty VIP room he was in. The lights were dim, but he could see the bowed figure in the hallway light filtering through the gap beneath the door.
"Why were you running like that? Are you a fugitive from the police?" he asked accusingly. It wasn't unusual for raids to happen in places like this because of illegal activities.
Zara shook her head emphatically, the anxious fear gripping her becoming increasingly obvious. "N-no... I... I'm afraid the guests in the room I was just in will catch me." Zara stammered. Her answer only made the man in front of her more curious.
"Why? Shouldn't you be happy someone wants to pay you for the night?" he asked pointedly. But Zara barely thought about his words. Her heart was still in turmoil, and her mind felt blank from fear.
"H-he's dangerous. I'm afraid my safety will be at risk," Zara said nervously.
Zara fell silent when the man ignored her. He looked busy with his phone, calling someone. Zara could hear the person on the other end greeting the man in front of her by the name Tama.
"Hello, Juan... Looks like I'm not going to have fun tonight after all. I'm heading back to the office now," Tama said disinterestedly, prompting a protest from the other end. He then ended the call without paying any attention to the person he was speaking to.
Afterward, Tama looked back at Zara, his gaze sharp and full of irritation. "You have completely ruined my reason for coming here!" he said furiously.
Zara lowered her head even further until her neck began to ache. "I'm sorry... Please forgive me," she whispered.
"Forget it," Tama said as he walked away. His hand reached for the doorknob, but Zara stopped him. His gaze grew sharper as he stared at her.
"Why are you still holding me back? I don't want to get involved in your business!" he snapped. He flung her hand away and opened the door. But Zara's unexpected movement made him start when he heard a loud bang in front of him.
The door slammed shut again. Zara desperately pushed it with all her strength until it closed, then used her body to hold it in place.
Boldly, Zara looked at Tama as he let out an irritated snort. "I-I'll definitely be fired tonight, and I'll have to pay for the huge damages. Those people will definitely keep looking for me, too." Zara sadly described the suffering she would face after what had happened. Seeing that Tama looked classy and trustworthy, she hoped to earn his sympathy.
"So?" With his irritation mounting, Tama caged Zara against the door with both hands, pressing her more firmly against it.
"Please help me, sir... Please help me."
Zara set aside her ego and pride this time. She was certain the man before her could free her from the situation she was facing.
"If... If you don't want to have fun here anymore, I... I can please you somewhere else. Yes, somewhere else," Zara said desperately. It would be better to give herself to this man and get his help escaping the rector who was hunting her.
She believed this mature man could set her free. Judging by his aura and polished appearance, he was clearly no ordinary person.
Tama fell silent, intensely surveying Zara's entire body for several moments. He was tempted to have fun with this young woman. Her sexy body beneath her skimpy clothes, combined with her beautiful face, stirred his desire. But sex had never been something he prioritized. He could still control himself.
Tama straightened, freeing Zara from the cage of his body. "No. There's no point. I'm no longer interested," he refused firmly. Besides, the only reason he had come to this place in the first place was to enjoy a glass of alcohol, hoping it would erase all the complications in his head.
Tama's rejection sent Zara into a panic. "How can you be so cruel, sir? I'm having a hard time. My mother is sick, and my father has passed away. He also left behind a mountain of debt that I have to pay off. Please, sir." Zara grew more frantic, unable to hold back her tears any longer.
Her reputation was at stake now.
There was no way she would be able to leave this place tonight. Those people would keep searching for her, and the club owner would keep chasing her for compensation. It was all because of her panic and carelessness!
"Don't you realize you're begging me?!" Tama shouted, making Zara flinch at the force of his voice.
Realizing that his tone had risen, Tama softened his voice, though it still sounded flat and sardonic. "I don't like people who beg me for pity. It's too naive. You can't rely on yourself."
"I've tried as hard as I can, sir, but I'm truly desperate right now," Zara squeaked. She had worked hard all day. Her mother needed medicine and hospital fees, and she was still short of money, which was why she had decided to work as a server at an entertainment venue.
"Please help me," Zara said hopefully. Her round eyes gazed pleadingly at Tama, who stood silent, considering her request. He looked closely once more at the pitiful face staring at him in supplication.
A few moments later, Tama exhaled in exasperation, once again showing empathy toward the unfortunate girl before him.
"I'll help you. So what do I need to do first?"
Zara felt a small breath of freedom. She looked brightly at Tama like a child who had just been given a present. "Get me away from them first. And don't let them take off my mask and find out who I am," Zara pleaded, just before the door behind her was shoved violently, sending her flying forward.