Page 15 of August and the Night

It is a gathering of the dark and corrupt, but I remain composed. My expression is stoic and unreadable. I have entered this place with the purpose of collecting enough incriminating information to expose this disgusting motherfucker.

Gaining an invitation to this exclusive party required a delicate dance of deception and strategic manipulation. To infiltrate the ranks of those I seek to bring down, I had to create an illusion of being just like them. I built a reputation for myself with these people that I have illegal business dealings and dark maneuvers. It wasn’t difficult to convince them of my alleged darker side, they tend to think that the world is as dark as their souls.

I subtly dropped hints of engaging in questionable activities, carefully weaving stories that pique their interest. I skillfully played the part, never indulging too much or too little, maintaining a balance that kept them intrigued yet cautious. My supposed participation in illegal dealings garnered their trust, and soon enough, I received the coveted invitations. I became a regular at these events.

As I navigate the sea of monstrous individuals at the party, I bump into Lily as expected. A sly grin plays across her face as she looks me over. I can see interest in her eyes as she studies my face, moving on to my body. She sucks in a breath as she seems to like what she is seeing.

Her hands roam over my chest as she leans in, letting her breasts brush flat against my arm. She whispers in my ear, “Would you like to have some fun, handsome?” Her reputation as a sex addict is well-known among the crowd; she is a seductress after all and one of Arthur's "gifts" for the men here. I can never understand how Arthur isn't disgusted with the idea of using his niece as a fuck doll for these men.

She sees an opportunity to indulge in her desires, using her charm to her advantage. However, as I look into her features, I cannot deny that she is an attractive woman. But she doesn't hold a candle to Layla's beauty. Her face holds no innocence like my little dove's. I find myself repulsed by her presence.

She sneaks a hand down to my dick and scowls when she finds it soft, not affected by her presence. I grab her hand roughly and remove it from my pants, shoving her away from me. She looks at me, shocked. Used to every man being wrapped around her finger.

On one hand, I know that using her advances to my advantage could potentially yield valuable information. It could help me in my mission. But for some reason, I physically cannot be intimate with her. I cannot desire her like I desire Layla, and that is dangerous.

An unexpected inner battle rages within me. Lily, with her seductive advances, should be someone I am attracted to. But my body refuses to respond. My mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Layla, the girl I am only supposed to be manipulating and using for revenge.

I am pissed off by the growing attraction I feel towards Layla. I'm frustrated by my inability to be swayed by Lily's allure. This isn't part of the plan.

I'm supposed to hate Layla and only use her as a pawn in my pursuit of vengeance against Arthur. This conflict is a dangerous distraction. It threatens to derail my carefully laid plans. I know I have to suppress these feelings and focus on my mission. I cannot afford to let emotions cloud my judgment in this high-stakes game of revenge.

Lily still has a look of disbelief across her face. She scoffs at my rejection. With a toss of her hair, she moves away from me. Seeking solace in the arms of another man who seems more than willing to indulge in her flirtations.

I can feel her gaze linger on me. A mixture of frustration and wounded pride is evident in her eyes. I ignore her gaze and move further into the restaurant where the main attraction is starting.

I stand with my fists clenched with rage as the vile scene unfolds before me. The room is filled with these heartless monsters, bidding on an innocent sobbing child as if she were nothing more than a mere commodity. My blood boils with anger. Every fiber of my being screams to tear the place down and put an end to this despicable display. But I know that I can't act on my emotions alone.

With iron clad composure, I conceal my disgust. I focus on my plan to rescue the child from this wretched fate. As the bidding escalates, I feel my heart pounding in my chest. I'm determined to outbid the others and save the child from a life of horror.

Finally, the moment arrives when I manage to secure the winning bid. Relief washes over me. However, I have to suppress any signs of triumph. I collect the innocent child from the stage. I fight back the urge to kill every one of these individuals and I clutch her small hand in mine.

The perverts in the room, oblivious to my true intentions, congratulate me on my successful bid. They praise me for getting the child. I want to murder them all. But I have to pretend to enjoy their approval. All the while, I feel the weight of the child's life in my hands.

As the other men continue their praises, I hold back a forced smile. I conceal the weight of my true intentions. Little do they know that from the very start, I have been secretly recording every moment of their heinous acts and depraved discussions.

The evidence I have gathered will expose them all for the monsters they truly are when the time is right. With the innocent child now safely in my care, I know that I hold the power to bring their dark empire crashing down.

I swallow my rage at the fact that Arthur is not engaging in this party. Meaning I cannot have evidence of his involvement. I have to attend more of these vile events. As I walk away from that nightmarish gathering, clutching the child tightly to my chest, my mind races with thoughts of avenging her.

I will not rest until these men face the consequences of their actions. I will use every ounce of my cunning and resources to ensure that the truth is revealed to the world.

I place the child in the passenger seat. She is fast asleep, probably drugged to become more passive. After ensuring she is in a comfortable sleeping position, I can't shake the thoughts gnawing at me to check if Layla is truly not in the party.

Despite John's reassurance that she is at home, I can't resist the urge to check for myself. I drive to Arthur’s house, my heart pounding as I approach. I catch a peek of her through her bedroom's open window, asleep.

After proving to myself that she isn’t involved in the party, I dial a number I have committed to memory. The call connects, and a familiar voice answers on the other end. It is an acquaintance, a dedicated individual who rescues children from such horrifying situations.

I quickly inform him about the child I have rescued from the party and describe the ordeal she has endured. I know she will be in safe hands with him. I make arrangements to pass her on to his care.

"I'm sending her to you," I say firmly. "She deserves a chance at a better life. I trust you to protect her."

He assures me that the child will be safe with him. I feel a weight lift from my shoulders knowing that she will find a haven in his care.

After driving back home, I gently carry the sleeping child to one of my most trusted bodyguards. I instruct him to take her to my acquaintance. With a reassuring nod from the bodyguard, I know she is in capable hands.

Exhaustion weighs heavily upon me as I step into my home. Even the melody of the birds doesn’t uplift my heavy mood.

I settle into bed, but my mind remains restless. Dreams of darkness creep into my sleep, swirling with images of the night's events, the faces of those monstrous men, and the innocent child caught in their web. My mind replays the scenes of the auction, the heartless bidding, and the child's terrified eyes. It is a nightmarish dance of darkness that haunts me even in slumber.

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