Tama entered a nightclub on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't an elite club filled with bourgeois patrons who were always happy to waste their money.
The place was much darker and wilder than he had imagined.
But Tama hadn't come there to have fun. He had arranged to meet someone.
Beside him, his assistant, Juan, and one of his bodyguards walked faithfully at his side. Juan's roving eyes hadn't seemed to blink once since they entered the club. He stared at the breasts and rounded buttocks of every woman they passed.
Tama then climbed the stairs to the room his bodyguard had told him about.
When he arrived, he saw an old man who had been waiting for him, sitting and enjoying a glass of cheap liquor.
The room was so quiet and dim that it felt completely private. Tama and Juan entered, leaving the bodyguard stationed at the front door.
“Good evening, Mr. Utama,” the man said after standing and shaking Utama's hand, then Juan's.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Utama replied flatly. His eyes showed no regret whatsoever. Here, he was the client.
The old man merely offered him a faint, friendly smile. “I just arrived myself. Please, have a seat.”
Utama sat across from Danu, the old man wearing thin-framed glasses and a fedora that covered his graying hair.
“Get straight to the point,” Tama said, unwilling to waste time.
“After investigating further, it turns out that before Erlan Hidayat was involved in an accident and died, he had been caught up in a corruption case at his workplace. After his death, all his assets were sold off, forcing his wife and child to leave and move from place to place.
“However, something about this incident seems suspicious. After all of Erlan's financial accounts were frozen, I received a report stating that one of his bank accounts was still active, with transactions continuing to take place.”
“Find out who’s making those transactions,” Tama ordered. He was certain the person behind the bank-account sabotage hadn't acted alone. This was a blatant crime, yet one that would be difficult to uncover.
“What about his relationship with his extended family?” Tama asked, still curious about Erlan Hidayat.
“They live scattered far apart, so they never communicate. I haven't investigated the reason behind that any further.”
“For more details, you can read the report in this file.” Danu handed a red folder to Tama.
Tama accepted it and began reading it carefully.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” Juan whispered while Tama was reading the documents. Tama nodded indifferently, letting Juan leave.
Tama spent several minutes reading and examining every neatly written detail, accompanied by Danu, who had gone back to enjoying his drink.
Then his phone chimed, announcing an incoming message.
Tama stopped reading and picked up his phone from the table. He opened a message from Juan, and his eyes widened as his heart raced and his breathing quickened.
“Zara...” Tama murmured in disbelief.
Juan had sent him a photo of several women lined up, appearing almost naked. Beneath it, he had sent a teasing message that was clearly an invitation: Looks like it’d be fun if I picked one of them.
But that wasn't what held Tama's attention. He clearly recognized one of the girls, even though she was wearing a mask and the photo was blurry. Tama knew that Zara was among those naked women.
The woman who had occupied his thoughts and memories for the past several days.
Tama immediately called Juan and gave him an order. “Choose the girl wearing the red mask. Bring her to me now!” he commanded, his voice heavy with pressure.
Tama closed his eyes for a moment, calming the fire that threatened to blaze inside him. Then his eyes opened, blazing with reckless determination.
“You broke your promise, little girl!” he snarled angrily. He was truly furious—and just as disappointed.
Zara was taken to the second floor, to a room that appeared quiet and dimly lit. Yet Zara sensed something darker than the place itself.
She stood uncomfortably between two burly men, facing a man who sat upright with his back to her.
The man's aura was unusual. His silence felt ominous.
Then another man arrived with the middle-aged woman Zara had met earlier—the pimp who had put her in this situation.
They spoke and negotiated over a price as though Zara were an object being bought and sold.
Zara cried even harder in silence. There was no longer any hope of escaping this vile pit. The world had truly turned against her this time.
Then the man whose face she still couldn't see spoke loudly, his threat unmistakable.
“Remember this well: this girl no longer has any debt or other obligation to you. If you ever bother her again, I won't hesitate to destroy your business. Do you understand?!”
His words struck her like a heavy hammer, smashing her until she was reduced to nothing.
Zara was now nothing more than a captive girl whose freedom had been purchased.
The sobs she had held back finally broke free, squeezing her chest.
The man who had been sitting with his back to her stood and walked toward Zara, who was trembling with tears.
“Show me your face! Remember, you belong to me now!” His cold voice jolted her.
Zara looked up, tears soaking her face. Her sobs grew louder when the familiar figure stood before her, gazing at her gently—a sharp contrast to his piercing voice.
“Uncle...” Zara murmured before throwing herself into Tama's arms. His large body rocked slightly from the force of her embrace.
Zara couldn't contain her relief upon realizing that Tama was the one standing before her.
Tama's heart ached at the tight embrace that suddenly engulfed him. Her sobs pierced the ears of everyone who heard them.
The people from earlier had left, abandoning Tama and Zara, who still hadn't released him.
Juan, who had been sitting and watching the whole time, let out a loud sigh at the dramatic scene. He couldn't believe Utama was willing to spend 1.5 billion just for an auctioned woman.
“Why didn't you contact me right away?” Tama whispered, making no attempt to pull away from Zara's embrace. For some reason, relief filled his mind now that Zara had fallen back into his grasp, even though anger still occupied part of his heart.
Tama released Zara and looked at her tear-streaked face behind the mask, his gaze somber. “Didn't I tell you that you were supposed to contact me whenever you needed something?!” There was nothing formal in his words anymore. They sounded possessive, revealing the closeness of their relationship.
Zara sobbed harder. “T-they kept pressuring me. They threatened me.” She looked at her bruised wrists. The pain seemed to reach all the way to her bones.
Tama slowly removed the mask from her face, revealing her beautiful features, streaked with tears and anguish.
Tama looked down, examining every inch of Zara's body. He ignored the fact that the girl was barely dressed.
He saw the bruises. Her wrists were red, with patches of blue standing out against her smooth, pale skin.
“They won't hurt you again,” he murmured, then kissed each bruise, leaving Zara stunned and helpless.
Tama released her hands, then took off the jacket covering his body and wrapped it around Zara's fragile frame.
He brought Zara to the sofa and helped her sit down. Then he brought her a glass of water, which she accepted immediately. She drank it all, and it felt like heaven cooling her after the overwhelming terror she had endured.
Juan looked over the young woman's entire body as she sat across from him. Annoyance and regret filled his mind.
If I'd known she was going to be that attractive, I wouldn't have handed her over to Tama earlier!
“Calm down,” Tama said, treating her with unusual tenderness.
Zara obediently nodded. “Thank you, Tama.”
She squeezed her hands together over her thighs. “Are you... going to let me go again?” Zara asked softly, looking at Tama uncertainly.
Tama stared at her sharply. The question sent his anger rising again. “Unfortunately, no, Zara. After everything I've given you, I won't let you go again,” he replied firmly.
Zara fell silent. She realized that she was now nothing more than a woman who had been sold and bought for a staggering price. Tama had purchased her body and all the freedom she possessed.
Not long afterward, the door opened again, revealing two female servers carrying several bottles of liquor.
“Now, keep me company while I drink,” Tama said as the atmosphere grew hotter, with Juan already occupied with the two women.
Tama reached for the cocktail glass. Ice crystals gently clinked against the cold glass walls. Dim light reflected off the brownish amber liquid, where sweet and bitter aromas mingled, touched by a faint hint of spice. He slowly swirled the glass, savoring the tempting colors and fragrance.
The pressure that had piled on his chest like a stone now eased slightly as the drink's aroma filled his senses.
With a measured movement, Tama downed the contents of the glass in one gulp. A refreshing chill swept over his dry, burning throat. Then an explosion of perfectly balanced flavor followed: soft sweetness from the sugar mingled with a sharp bitterness that stung his tongue. A touch of warm spice enveloped the bitterness like a soothing embrace, ending with a light acidity that emerged to balance the complex composition of flavors.
Not only did his throat feel refreshed, but so did his mind. Alcohol rushed through him, bringing a calming euphoria. The tension that had gripped him began to fade, replaced by a blanket of tranquility. Yet it wasn't passive calm. A new clarity emerged, carrying with it an awareness of himself and his surroundings.
“Y-you won't be rough with me, right?” Zara squeaked, staring in shock at the two women servicing the man across from her. The man was openly touching parts of both women's bodies.
Zara glanced at Tama, afraid of his ever-changing moods. Especially now, when he was under the influence of alcohol.
“Give me another drink,” Tama said to Zara, ignoring her question.
“Please don't get drunk,” Zara said fearfully. Tama looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes.
“I won't get drunk,” he said firmly, his eyes gleaming as though to assure Zara that a few cocktails hadn't robbed him of his senses.
Tama rested his head on Zara's bare shoulder and gently stroked her arm. “Enjoy, Zara.”
“I’m uncomfortable,” Zara said honestly. The scent of Tama's expensive musk cologne mingled with the smell of alcohol, filling her with unease.
Tama looked at Zara from her small shoulder. His eyes glittered with amusement, a smile fixed on his lips. “Why? Is it because of them? They're not even embarrassed to rub their breasts against my friend's arm.” He pointed toward his friend across the room with his chin.
“I’m not like them!” Zara protested, unwilling to be compared to the two women.
“Yes, you should be like them!”
“But only for me! Remember that!” he warned. His voice was deep, laden with possessiveness.
A moment later, Tama leaned forward and sweetly kissed Zara's lips—the lips that had tempted him from the first moment he saw her.
Zara's body tensed.
Tama immediately lost control. His pupils contracted, his gaze hazy and filled with longing.
Zara felt increasingly cornered and shrank back as Tama's large body pressed her tightly into the sofa. She wasn't prepared, especially when Tama forced himself on her and silenced her with a heated kiss.
“Mm, I-I can’t breathe...” Zara choked out. Tears spilled down her cheeks again. She wanted to fight him off, but Tama gripped her so tightly that the heat of his lips instantly weakened every nerve in her body.
Tama's touch was hot and fervent, growing deeper and more intense as he savored every sensation in the union of their lips. Sparks flew, growing into flames inside him.
When Zara was nearly out of breath, Tama released her and stared at her sharply, desire barely contained in his eyes. “Zara... I’m burning... You’re making me burn, damn you!” he said before pulling her into another heated kiss.
“Tama... don't do this...” Zara squeaked when Tama released her mouth and moved lower, touching her with increasingly daring, burning fingers.
“You belong to me now, Zara...” Tama murmured passionately. The blood in his veins surged harder at the sound of his possessive declaration.
Tama stared at Zara, who was gasping helplessly. His eyes lingered on her beautiful collarbone, which seemed to invite him to leave his mark.
Zara lifted her slender fingers and held back his broad chest as he moved toward her again. “You're drunk...”
“Yes, I’m drunk because of you,” Tama replied, breathing heavily before resuming what he was doing. He teased Zara's body with light touches that slowly sent her floating.
Juan, who had been watching the whole time, looked at Tama with an unreadable expression. His friend and boss seemed different tonight. The calm, cold, rigid, controlled Utama was nowhere to be found. Tama looked hotter and wilder tonight than Juan had ever imagined. Perhaps it was the alcohol he had swallowed, making his mood even more uncontrollable.
“Find a room, dude. Now,” Juan said sharply, offering the obvious advice, which Tama answered with a harsh curse.
“Damn it! Show me the room—quick!”