Chapter 93: They Are Not Pretty

A sudden realization struck Raylee, and she blurted out, “You’ve been wanting me dead for quite some time now, haven’t you? You even considered pushing me off a cliff at Whitehorn Mountain!”

Jeremiah was somewhat taken aback. “Pretty sharp, huh? You even figured that out. It’s a pity, though. On the day I planned to push you off the cliff, those people showed up just in time. You narrowly escaped death then, but it seems fate has caught up with you. You’ve landed yourself right back in danger. I was ready to claim your corpse, but to my surprise, you survived. I must admit, you’re remarkably resilient.”

As Raylee reflected on the events of that day, the pieces began to fall into place. It hadn’t been her imagination; her instincts had been right all along. She couldn’t help but regret that she hadn’t been more vigilant earlier. She could have avoided the dire situation she now faced.

At that moment, Jeremiah let out a casual yawn. “I’m feeling tired. I’ve entertained you enough for now. Do as you please.”

Having said that, he retreated into a small private room nearby. The sound of the door closing confirmed his departure, and Raylee—seizing the moment—quickly pulled out her phone with her other hand. To her relief, she still had it with her, and even more surprisingly, it had a network connection.

She quickly opened WhatsApp, scanning her recent contacts, which consisted of only Jeremiah, Vera, and Shanice. Remembering her past discussions about East Aploch with Shanice, she decided Shanice was the best person to reach out to for help. Without hesitation, she began typing and sent out several distress messages. However, no matter how many times she tried, there were no gray ticks, signaling a lack of network connection. Her attempts were futile as nothing went through.

Suddenly, her phone was snatched away. Jeremiah stood next to her, casually holding her phone with a smug grin. “You almost got away with sending a distress message. Good thing I managed to cut the network just in time.”

“Jeremiah, you’re despicable!” Raylee spat, her voice trembling with frustration. Just as she reached for the shards of glass on the table again, a bodyguard stepped forward and swiftly restrained her, cuffing her hands. With that, Raylee was completely immobilized.

Five hours later, the private jet landed. Jeremiah personally escorted her to the basement of a large-scale casino. The casino above buzzed with lively chatter and a chaotic energy, but the basement was a stark contrast—damp, dimly lit, and suffocatingly unventilated. A bone-chilling cold seeped into Raylee, making her shiver uncontrollably.

“Mr. Lorimer, is this lady new here?” Brock inquired as he approached. Trailing behind him, a man with bleached blonde hair gave Raylee a leering once-over and remarked, “She’s stunning, but it’s a shame she’s so thin. She barely has any weight on her. It must be awful to have sex with her.”

Jeremiah’s sharp glare cut through the air. Trembling under the weight of Jeremiah’s gaze, Leon quickly ducked behind Brock and stammered, “Mr. Lorimer, I’m sorry. I spoke out of line.”

“Keep a close eye on her. Don’t let her escape. If she does, I’ll make sure you all end up as dog food!” Jeremiah’s dark eyes…

“Don’t worry, Mr. Lorimer,” Brock replied confidently. “Once she’s here, there’s no way out!”

Jeremiah gave a curt nod, his presence exuding an air of authority and superiority. Among the group, he was unmistakably the one in charge. He shot a glance at Raylee before turning on his heel and leaving.

The moment Jeremiah was out of sight, Leon’s confidence surged. His gaze became bold and intrusive as he openly leered at Raylee. Shrinking back in fear, Raylee demanded, “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to do you!” Leon replied lecherously.

Just as he reached out toward her, Brock intervened, barking, “What do you think you’re doing? Mr. Lorimer told us to watch her, not to touch her!”

“Isn’t it the same thing?” Leon pursed his lips in frustration.

“The same! Are you kidding me? There are plenty of girls in there. Aren’t they enough for you? Now get lost!” Brock growled.

“They’re not pretty, and I’ve grown tired of them. But they’re not completely worn out. I could still have some fun with them.” Leon sauntered into a dark room off to the side.

In no time at all, the heart-wrenching scream of a girl echoed through the air. Although Raylee was inexperienced in such matters, she still had an idea of what was unfolding in the dark room. She was instantly struck with fear, her legs turning weak. The terror washed over her like a tidal wave, causing her to break out in a cold sweat that soaked her clothes. That was the ultimate humiliation for a woman. She had suffered at the hands of those tormentors in prison for four years, yet her innocence remained intact despite her physical limitations. She could have never anticipated that her chastity, the one thing she took immense pride in, was on the brink of being tarnished in such a barbaric land.

Raylee stared blankly at the impenetrable basement. The table beside was laden with various types of torture devices.