Sophia's hands clenched into fists. She wanted to scream, to throw something, to wipe that satisfied smirk off Bianca's surgically-enhanced face.This is my fault for being born with this face? Sophia's internal voice raged. For inheriting my mother's features? That's not a choice! That's basic biology! How can she blame me for genetics?The unfairness of it all crashed over her like a wave. Sophia hadn't asked to be beautiful. She'd never used her appearance to get ahead, never flaunted it or traded on it. If anything, her looks had brought her nothing but trouble—unwanted attention, jealous colleagues, and now this degrading assignment from a woman whose insecurity had curdled into cruelty.I want to rip her head open and see what's inside, Sophia thought viciously. How can someone be this petty? This illogical? Does she really think beauty is something I chose, like picking out a dress?"Miss Hayes," Sophia said finally, her voice tight with controlled anger. "My shift ended fiftee

"Forget these used-up hussies," another man said, gesturing dismissively at the lingerie-clad women. "This is what we should have ordered from the start!"Sophia's face burned with humiliation and rage. Despite her simple work uniform—a basic polo shirt and black pants that covered her from neck to ankles—she could feel their eyes devouring her. The cheap, modest clothing that Bianca had mocked suddenly felt too tight, too revealing, as if their stares alone could strip her bare.This was a setup, Sophia realized with sickening clarity. Bianca knew exactly what this room was. She knew what these men wanted. And she sent me here anyway."Look at that face," one man said, his voice thick with lust. "Like a goddamn angel. And that body—""Those curves are something else," another interrupted, his eyes raking over Sophia's figure with undisguised hunger. "Even in that ugly uniform, you can tell she's stacked."Sophia's hands clenched at her sides, the empty tray clutched like a shield. Sh

"Fun?" Sophia's laugh was sharp and bitter. "You call cornering a woman and trying to force yourself on her fun? You're disgusting! All of you!"The injured man staggered to his feet, blood still streaming down his face. His eyes were wild, unfocused with pain and fury and alcohol."Fun's over," he growled. "That little bitch just made this personal."The atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. The playful, predatory energy vanished, replaced by something colder and more violent. The men's expressions hardened, their earlier drunken leering transforming into genuine anger."She needs to be taught a lesson," one man said, his voice flat and dangerous."Yeah, can't let her get away with this," another agreed. "What kind of men would we be if we let some waitress disrespect us like that?""She's not a waitress," the second man who'd flanked her earlier said. "She's a wild animal that needs to be tamed."They began advancing again, but this time there was no pretense of seduction, no

The crude laughter that followed made Sophia want to vomit."Listen, honey," one of the men said, his tone patronizing. "You can make this easy or hard. Either way, we're getting what we paid for. So I suggest you cooperate before someone gets hurt.""Gets hurt more than they already have," another added, gesturing at the man Sophia had hit with the bottle, who was still pressing a bar towel to his bleeding head.Sophia's mind raced, searching desperately for any way out of this nightmare. Her eyes darted around the room again—locked door, soundproof walls, no windows, no help coming.The men holding her began pulling her toward the center of the room, where a small cleared space seemed designed specifically for the "performance" they expected."No! Wait! Please!" Sophia struggled against their grip, but they were too strong. "You have to believe me! I'm not who you think I am! I'm just a cashier! I don't do... I'm not...""We know you're not a professional," the blonde man said, mist

The room fell into tense silence after Steven's declaration. The men who'd been so confident moments ago now stood frozen, their faces cycling through shock, recognition, and dawning fear."Captain Steven," one of the older men whispered, his voice trembling. "We... we didn't know—""You didn't need to know," Steven cut him off coldly. "The fact that you were assaulting an unwilling woman should have been reason enough to stop, regardless of who she belonged to."Several of the men began backing toward the door, their survival instincts finally overriding their alcohol-fueled bravado. But the blonde-haired man—either too drunk or too stupid to recognize the danger—stepped forward instead."Wait!" he called out to his retreating companions. "Don't let him intimidate you! Look at him—he's just one man!"The other men paused uncertainly."Are you serious right now?" one of them hissed. "That's Captain Steven! Do you have any idea what he's done?""I don't care what he's done!" the blonde