In the depths of my novel, one name stood out among the characters: Finn Martin. Just the mention of his name sent shivers down my spine. He was the heir to the late Barron Martin, a man whose influence stretched across the Lermont Kingdom.

With his untimely death from lung cancer, nineteen-year-old Finn inherited Martin Hotels and Resorts. But beneath the glitz and glamour of their business lay a darksecret--a sinister truth that tainted their wealth. Their real source of incomewas unthinkable: human trafficking. Heartless and ruthless, they preyed on the vulnerable, abducted the homeless, and trapped the destitute in a relentless cycle of exploitation.

Behind closed doors, the Martin family thrived on their merciless methods. They offered loans to the poor at exorbitant interest rates, draining them of every penny until their victims had no choice but to become enslaved.

These victims were forced into grueling labor, working in construction or as domestic servants. Some were reduced to mere commodities, sold into slavery to the aristocracy, while others endured the horrors of commercial sexual exploitation. In the most harrowing cases, they became trapped in organ trafficking.

The society I'd created seemed like a paradise on the surface, but the truth was anything but enchanting. Behind the picturesque facade and stunning architecture lay corruption and malevolence. The charming illusion concealed a rotten core.

In Web of Deceit, Finn Martin and Willieth Jones excelled at deceiving others, but their true natures surfaced when they conspired to manipulate Liam Jones.

─•─

Ignoring Sebastian, I made my way to Bedstone Street, just a few blocks from Finn's mansion. It was the setting for the next crime. If my memory served me correctly, there had been three victims--employees of Finn who had already fallen prey to his heinous plot. Each of them shared a connection to the Jones family.

Finn was the cold-hearted perpetrator I had created, and his relentless spree was set tocontinue with Diane Ford, his very own secretary, as the next target.

I gazed through the grand, delicately designed frosted-glass window of Diane's house, but I couldn't see inside. Scanning the other windows, I noticed one slightly open just a few feet away.

"My lady," Sebastian whispered, trailing closely behind me. "May I inquire as to why we're here? Why are we--"

I quickly turned and pressed a finger to his lips. "Please, be quiet. Don't ask any questions."

With a subtle nod, he stepped back as I motioned for him to crouch down. We approached the open window, and then the sound of shattering glass reverberated. I peered through, my heart pounding. It was simply a lamp that had fallen to the floor. Then my brows furrowed. The scene before me was unexpected and... disgusting.

"Are you used to witnessing such scenes, my lady?" Sebastian teased.

I shot him a sharp, embarrassed glance. "Enough, please. Just stay quiet."

I returned my attention to the scene inside. The two figures were now locked in a passionate, almost voracious embrace. Their hands explored each other's bodies, and clothes were starting to fall away.  My frustration reached a boiling point. Before I knew it, the words were out. "What the hell is happening here?"

Instinctively, I clapped a hand over my mouth and ducked, fearing we might be discovered.  Meanwhile, Sebastian, seemingly unfazed, couldn't contain his laughter.  He managed to keep it subdued though. 

I tugged at his trousers, silently urging him to crouch down with me.  "We can't risk being noticed!"

He chuckled. "Don't worry, my lady. What we're witnessing is just a scene.  Our presence won't affect them at all."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

He smiled, slid the window wide open, and calmly climbed through, ignoring my attempts to stop him.

"No matter what we do, we won't disturb them. They won't see us or even feel our presence," he explained as he walked right through the intertwined, naked bodies.

Confusion gnawed at me. How could this be just a normal scene? I had been certain a crime was supposed to unfold here. The whole dream situation was bizarre, but I decided to look for a silver lining. Perhaps this extraordinary experience would provide new ideas for my novel. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that this particular scene wasn't what I had in mind...

"Sebastian, would you open the door for me?"

As I stepped inside, my focus was laser-sharp. But as I drew closer, the woman's lewd sounds and the man's explicit actions gave me pause. I hesitated, reluctant to believe what I was witnessing. She was on her knees on the couch, the man standing behind her.

The whole situation seemed explicit and entirely out of place for Web of Deceit. There were no sexually charged scenes in my draft. Would this dream deviate entirely from my plot?  Was it a sign that nothing I envisioned would come to pass? Or did this scene have a deeper connection to my subconscious desires? I shook my head, quickly dispelling the absurd thought.

Squinting, I tried to make out their faces, but I couldn't see clearly.  Then, the woman moaned out the man's name, "Oh, Willieth, I love you so much."

"Willieth? Why him?" I mumbled, my frustration escalating. I had hoped it would mirror the essence of my novel, but it was taking a disconcerting turn. I reminded myself that this was just adream and let out a nervous laugh.

Glancing back at Sebastian, who had respectfully turned to face the wall, I was impressed by his discretion.  He hadn't given in to the temptation of watching the intimate encounter. Unnoticed by him, I started to make my way back toward the door.  But just as I reached for it, Willieth's voice echoed across the room, stopping me in my tracks.  "How much do you love me, Diane? Would you die for me?"

Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to them. Willieth was now sitting on the couch, Diane straddling him. 

"Oh, I would die foryou," she responded with breathless giggles.

This dream was increasingly baffling.  More questions popped into my head than answers. I felt intrigued, wondering what peculiar twists my mind would conjure up next.

"Get up and dress up,darling," Willieth commanded, and Diane obediently complied. As she stood up, he playfully slapped her butt.

Willieth rose to his feet and began collecting his scattered clothes, covering himself. He retrieved something from his pocket, and then a distinctive clicking sound echoed. My apprehension intensified as he aimed the object at Diane's head.

"W-What is the meaning of this?" Her voice quivered, her fear palpable.  Willieth was pointing a gun at her.

"You just told me you would die for me, darling," he declared. "I want you to prove that to me." He cruelly seized her hair from behind, causing her to gasp and choke back tears.

Sebastian's voice broke through my focus. "Woah, this is intense. I didn't know that police officer was a psycho."

We both remained transfixed, unable to tear our eyes away from the drama.

"Why are you doing this to me, Will?" Diane's voice trembled, her breath ragged. "We were just having fun a while ago, what happened so suddenly?"

"Fun? How could you possibly think I'd be having fun with the child of one of the reasons why Willieth ended up like this?"

"What are you talking about?" Diane retorted defiantly. "I know you were having fun fucking me! You can't deny it!"

"Of course, I had to pretend," he growled, causing her to recoil. She tried to speak again, but Willieth forcefully held her cheeks, silencing her. "You're a fucking whore, just like your mother. You're nothing more than my toy, Diane. I can dispose of you whenever I want."

With a swift, forceful movement, he kicked her leg, causing her to wince.  He then pushed her head downward until she found herself kneeling in front of the center table.

Diane's desperate cries and pleas fell on cold, indifferent ears. Willieth remained unyielding. He gripped her cheeks once more, callously pointing the gun at her trembling mouth.  Despite her fear, Diane mustered the strength to retaliate, striking back at him. But his resolve remained unshaken.

"Open wide, darling," he taunted.

I felt sorry for Diane, even though I knew she was merely a fictional character from my imagination. But in the earlier drafts of my creation,  it was Finn who played the role of theinstigator, driving her to take her own life.

As if it were an ordinary, everyday action, Willieth squeezed the trigger.  The gunshot was disturbingly subdued. Blood splattered, and Diane's mouth began to bleed profusely as she collapsed onto the carpet, leaving a pool of crimsonbehind. The atmosphere became increasingly eerie and tense with Willieth's hysterical laughter.

I felt an intense discomfort in my stomach, so vivid that it prompted me to vomit. Even though it was just a dream, the sensations were alarmingly real.

"Are you all right, my lady?" Sebastian asked. "That was dreadful."

I continued to retch. Tears welled up in my eyes as I desperately longed to escape this nightmare.

"We need to go now, my lady," he urged. "It will be dangerous if we stay once the scene ends. He will see us."

He helped me to my feet, and together, we rushed toward the door. But our escape was cut short as Willieth's voice pierced the air. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"