CHAPTER 57: HER NAME IN THE DARK WEB

"Don’t you dare touch me! I said let go—I swear, I’ll sue every single one of you!"

Camela was dragged out of the building in an instant. She kept shouting, cursing at the security guards who dared to touch her. In the end, her behavior only humiliated herself.

Ivy burst into laughter, practically doubled over at the sight of Camela.

She had witnessed everything from the beginning and had even followed her all the way down just to mock her when she finally got tossed out.

"Aww, poor baby. Did the big, scary security guards hurt your feelings?"

Ivy spun around and strolled back inside, still laughing her head off.

Camela clenched her fists, a sharp wave of hatred rising the moment she thought about that filthy cleaner.

But she caught a whiff of herself and jerked back. "Ugh."

Only then did she realize what had been dumped on her.

"This smell? Coffee? No."

Disgusted, she headed for her car and drove home, already plotting something petty and nasty.

"Just you wait, you filthy cleaner!"

As soon as shift ended, Ivy stuffed her things into her bag and caught the bus home. Her apartment sat in one of the city’s older districts, far from fancy, but it was what she could afford.

She rented one of the tiny rooms at the top of the building. She had to climb a narrow staircase cluttered with trash bags and old newspapers. The smell hanging in the air as she made her way to her door.

Inside, the room greeted her with silence—thin walls, dim lights with nothing warm.

Ivy washed up, ate whatever she had left from the fridge, then sat on her bed scrolling through her phone, the glow lighting up her tired face.

She tapped on one of the albums on her phone labeled LOVE.

Inside were photos of Rowan she had secretly taken—snapped whenever he wasn’t looking, saved like little treasures.

Ivy traced her finger along the screen, following the shape of his face, the line of his jaw, the way his shoulders filled out his suit.

Heat crept up her cheeks until her whole face flushed pink. She drifted deeper into her daydreams until sleep finally claimed her.

Meanwhile, the door to her apartment creaked open.

Three men were dressed in black, their helmets hiding their faces. They slipped inside, making no noise as they moved.

They found Ivy’s alluring body slumped on the thin mattress on the floor, lit only by the dim glow of her bedside lamp.

"Woman.." hungry hissed... The lust start to climb their body.

Ivy’s eyes flew open, panic tearing through her the moment her hand was seized. Another man was already on her, pinning her down and leaving her completely trapped.

Before she could scream, something pressed against her nose—a chemical scent flooding her senses. Everything went blurry.

She hovered on the edge of consciousness, aware of their actions but powerless to move.

"Relax. It’ll be over before you even know it," he sneered, laughter rumbling low in his throat.

A camera sat off to the side, its lens pointed at her, ready to record the entire scene.

They ripped her clothes one by one, started to touch her softness chest, and sucked another one.

They took turns, pumping her down, thrusting roughly in various positions.

The drug lingered in her body, making her cheeks flush pink, leaving her too weak to resist. Her mind floated into a fantasy, and she let herself enjoy the sweet feeling.

The next morning Ivy woke up, her body covered in bruises and marks. There was a strange wetness between her legs.

She couldn’t recall a thing, yet her room was in total chaos. A slow wave of panic crawled up Ivy’s spine.

...

"Dante, did you really let her use you?!" his right-hand guy asked, clearly irritated by Camela’s nonstop demands.

He stood behind Dante with his hands on his hips, anger written all over his face.

Dante lingered at the wide balcony of his mansion, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling.

"I’ll count her request as her debt," he said simply, his tone full of authority.

"But this has gone too far. Do you know how many thousands she paid those three guys last night? All just to get back at a cleaner who mocked her and she paid with your money," Stott muttered, disgusted by Camela’s reckless behavior.

Everything Stott said was true, but Dante had his own reasons for letting Camela carry on with her foolish behavior.

He realized he didn’t need to marry her. He could simply collect Camela’s debt from her mother, and he would still succeed in gaining full control of Dolan’s power.

"Do what she wants. As long as she’s useful, we let her run."

Then Dante’s phone rang. Stott snatched it from the bar and quickly passed it to his boss.

"Don, that woman hasn’t shown up for work since yesterday. We’ve lost her trail," the man on the other end reported—the one Dante had paid to shadow Lyra and keep track of her movements.

Dante’s eyes hardened.

"What do you mean you lost her?" he snapped. "Search every corner of this city. I want her found."

...

In another city, Martin finally got the answer to Lyra’s request. All the documents were legitimate.

The medical records and the police report detailing what had happened to Owen years ago were genuine.

He tried calling Lyra, but the call went dead.

And one thing bothered him most—her name had appeared again on the dark web. Someone had issued a request to track her.

Martin contacted her workplace, and they told him she had taken a long leave.

"Damn it," he muttered. He need to find her before anything went wrong.

...

One day after Lyra left, Rowan still hadn’t come home. It was his tenth straight night at the office.

Every night was the same—he drank alone until he passed out, then woke up the next morning with a splitting headache.

Damian and Kane were completely bewildered by their boss. They had never seen him like this before.

Every night, he chased them away.

"Go on, go home... I’m fine... not a kid... shoo..." Rowan slurred drunkenly. He could barely stay on his feet.

Seeing his state, Damian and Kane refused to leave.