All I could do was hope that a passerby might take pity on me and call the police.
But deep down, I knew that hope was faint.
Henry pulled out his black card and swiped it for 100 thousand dollars.
"Bring me all your ugliest male models!"
He turned to me with a chilling smile. "You like to have fun, don't you? Tonight, you'll have all the fun you want. Consider it my gift to you!"
He ordered the bodyguards to pry my mouth open and poured vodka down my throat.
I choked, my face flushing as a rash spread across my skin.
The burn in my throat was suffocating.
At that moment, a group of men was led into the private room. Henry casually picked out a middle-aged man in his forties and made him sit on the sofa.
Then, the bodyguards dragged me over and forced me to kneel in front of him.
My wrists were tied, and my hands were placed around the man's neck.
Realizing Henry's intent, I saw the camera in the distance and began thrashing desperately, trying to break free.
The booming DJ music drowned out my cries for help.
Henry was enraged. He grabbed the empty bottle and smashed it against the back of my head.
My vision went black, and the sharp pain momentarily cleared my mind.