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It All Started With A Lie...

"Iris, a struggling singer in a local bar, finds her life upended when she's kidnapped by the mayor's men and used as bait to lure the powerful Italian mafia boss Alexander de Martin. What starts as a dangerous game, however, takes an unexpected turn when Iris and Alexander find themselves falling in love, setting the stage for a tale of dangerous passion, unexpected alliances, and the power of love in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds."

Cornflower · Urbain
Pas assez d’évaluations
112 Chs

Inescapable hell

Amber clears her throat, feeling suddenly self-conscious. She glances around the empty lobby, then turns back to the concierge, trying to hide her anxiety and fear.

"Can I... uh... can I get a room for the night, please?" she asks, her voice wavering slightly.

The concierge gives her a quick once-over, then looks down at his computer, typing something into the keyboard. After a moment, he looks back up at Amber, his face still neutral.

"Sure. We have one room available for tonight. How long will you be staying?"

Amber thinks for a moment, feeling her heart race as she considers her options. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

"Just the one night," she finally answers, her voice still shaky.

The concierge nods, typing something into his computer again. He glances up at Amber, his eyes taking in her tired and anxious demeanor, but he doesn't comment. After a moment, he looks back down and punches a few more keys on his keyboard, then looks up at Amber again.

"That'll be $100 for the night," he says, his voice flat and emotionless.

Amber feels another pang of anxiety at the price, but she nods, realizing she has no choice. She rummages through her bag, pulling out her wallet and handing over the money, her heart racing the entire time.

The concierge takes the money, counting it quickly before handing Amber a key card. He gestures towards the elevator and says, "Room 309. Have a good night.

Amber nods, clutching the key card tightly in her hand as she walks towards the elevator. She can feel the concierge's eyes on her as she waits for the elevator to arrive, her heart pounding in her chest. Finally, the doors slide open, and Amber steps inside, pressing the button for the third floor.

Amber stands inside the elevator, her mind spinning with thoughts and worries. The ride up to the third floor feels excruciatingly long, but finally, the elevator dings and the doors slide open. Amber steps out into the dimly lit hallway, her hand shaking slightly as she looks for room 309.

Amber walks down the hallway, her footsteps echoing off the walls. She passes several other doors before finally reaching number 309. She takes a deep breath, her heart racing, and tries to steady her trembling hands as she lifts the key card to the door.

The door clicks open, and Amber pushes it open, revealing a small, cramped room, with a bed, a desk, and a small bathroom. The room smells of stale cigarettes and cleaning supplies. Amber sighs and walks inside, closing the door behind her and sliding the deadbolt into place.

Amber sets her bag down on the desk, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She glances at the bed, its blankets rumpled and its pillows askew. She takes a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts and calm her racing heart. She looks around the room, taking in the faint scent of smoke, the dim, flickering light from the bedside lamp, and the stillness of the room.

Amber walks over to the bed, feeling the worn-out fabric of the blankets and pillows. She sits down on the edge of the bed, feeling the mattress sag beneath her. It's not a comfortable bed, but it's better than nothing. Amber looks around the room again, feeling a pang of loneliness and isolation. She sighs and lies back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dim light.

Amber feels her thoughts swirling in her head as she lies on the bed, the events of the day replaying over and over in her mind. She feels a sense of helplessness and hopelessness wash over her, as if she's drowning in a sea of anxiety and fear. She tries to take deep breaths, to calm her racing heart, but the feeling persists, weighing heavily on her chest.

Amber rolls over onto her side, curling up into a ball and clutching a pillow to her chest. She feels tears welling up in her eyes, a mixture of fear, sadness, and helplessness. She tries to push them back, to take control of her emotions, but a few tears escape anyway, rolling down her cheeks and soaking into the pillow.

Amber's tears slowly turn to sobs, her body shaking as the emotions she's been holding back finally come pouring out. She cries for her situation, for the fear and uncertainty of her future, for the loneliness and isolation she feels in this strange room. The sobs rack her body, shaking her like a leaf in the wind.

The sobs continue for a long time, Amber's body wracked with emotion as she lets her feelings pour out. Eventually, the sobs begin to subside, leaving her feeling empty and hollow, like a shell of herself. She takes a few shaky breaths, her face glistening with tears in the dim light.

Amber rolls over onto her back again, staring up at the ceiling with puffy, bloodshot eyes. She feels worn out and exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She knows she needs to rest, to sleep, but she's not sure she can. Her mind is still racing, her heart still pounding in her chest.

Amber lays in the bed, listening to the faint sound of traffic outside, the hum of the air conditioning unit, the occasional muffled sound of a door slamming somewhere. Her eyes dart around the room, taking in the dingy walls, the stained carpet, the chipped paint on the furniture. The room feels like a prison, an endless and inescapable hell.

The silence of the room is almost deafening, broken only by Amber's quiet, ragged breaths. She feels like she might go crazy if she stays here any longer, trapped in this small, dark room with no one to talk to and nowhere to go. She knows she needs to rest, but the thought of closing her eyes and surrendering to sleep is terrifying.

Amber rolls over onto her side again, clutching the pillow to her chest and feeling the exhaustion settling in her bones. She can feel her eyes growing heavy, her body aching for rest, but the thought of falling asleep here, in this room, in this situation, is almost unbearable. She feels like she's caught in a nightmare, trapped between wakefulness and sleep, unable to escape either.

The exhaustion finally takes its toll, and after what feels like hours of tossing and turning, Amber finds herself drifting off into a fitful sleep. Her body relaxes slightly, releasing the tension and stress that has been building up for so long. As she drifts into unconsciousness, her breathing slowly evens out, and her eyelids flutter closed, succumbing to the pull of sleep.