Chapter 7: Sen! He tried to rape me!

Milan's POV

Sorensen turned and left the room without a word. Moments later, he returned carrying a pair of pink slippers, which he tossed unceremoniously at my feet. "They belong to Luke's girlfriend."

The moment I heard that, I recoiled instinctively. "Ugh, gross! I'd rather wear yours than put those disease-ridden things on my feet."

Two women sharing one man? No way in hell. Who knew what kind of infections I could catch just from touching their stuff.

He frowned. "No."

I didn't care what he said. I walked right up to him, closing the distance until our bodies were barely a step apart. "I want to wear yours. Give them to me."

We stood so close I could feel the heat of his breath against my face. He towered over me by at least a head—if he wanted to, he could probably pick me up as easily as plucking a kitten from the ground. His expression hovered somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

"And if I refuse?" he asked, his voice low and challenging. "What will you do about it?"

I smiled sweetly up at him, so sweetly that I saw him falter for just a moment. "Then I simply won't shower. After all, it's not my bed that'll get dirty—just some poor unfortunate soul's."

His face darkened immediately, and I watched as he carefully weighed his options, his expression serious as he calculated the costs and benefits of standing his ground.

In the end, I walked out of the room wearing his oversized slippers, tilting my head back to look at him triumphantly. "These are mine now. Don't touch them without my permission."

If looks could kill, I'd have been torn apart and devoured several times over by the intensity of his glare. Watching him silently seethe like some wronged puppy only made the victory sweeter. I tossed one final comment over my shoulder as I headed toward the bathroom.

"When I'm done showering, I expect to see those eight-pack abs of yours waiting for me in bed."

I didn't bother looking back at his expression, simply strutting away with my head held high, savoring every moment of his frustration.

However, my satisfaction evaporated the moment I stepped into the bathroom. The cracked tiles, the faintly yellowed water dripping from the showerhead, the toiletries scattered haphazardly across every available surface—all of it made my chest tighten with something close to claustrophobia.

I'd known the conditions wouldn't be luxurious, but this... there wasn't even proper lighting. How was I supposed to shower with just this pathetic little showerhead? It was barely large enough to wet my entire body. And there was no glass partition, no proper enclosure—just a single door with a translucent panel.

I stared at that frosted glass, remembering how I'd seen Sorensen's silhouette through it earlier, and a chill ran down my spine. If someone stood outside, they'd be able to see every movement I made, every outline of my body distorted through that cloudy barrier.

But I had no choice—I needed to shower. Suppressing my unease, I stripped off my clothes and turned on the weak stream of water, moving as quietly as possible while reaching for Sorensen's body wash and shampoo from the corner shelf where I'd specifically asked him to point them out.

Throughout the entire shower, my eyes kept darting toward the door. I could see out from inside, but only vaguely—just enough to make out shapes and shadows. The bathroom's interior remained invisible from the hallway, yet I couldn't shake the crawling sensation that someone was watching me from the other side of that glass.

Several times I told myself I was being paranoid. There were multiple people living in this apartment. What could anyone possibly see through frosted glass anyway? Just a blurry silhouette. No one could be that perverted, right?

But when I emerged from the bathroom wearing Sorensen's oversized shirt, towel-drying my hair, and found myself face-to-face with Luke's sticky, penetrating stare, every instinct screamed that I'd been right to worry.

His gaze traveled over my body with predatory intent, lingering on my collarbone and chest like a hunter surveying prey. The weight of his attention made my skin crawl, every nerve ending firing warning signals.

"How long have you been standing here?" I demanded, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

Luke's laugh was forced, artificial. "Just passing by. Came to grab something."

His expression betrayed nothing—perfectly controlled, masterfully blank. I couldn't detect even the slightest hint of deception in his features, yet that very perfection felt wrong, like a mask worn too long. The bottomless falseness radiating from him made me want to avoid any contact whatsoever, even basic pleasantries.

I didn't acknowledge him, simply moved to step around him, but he shifted to block my path with startling speed. I nearly collided with his chest, jerking backward instinctively to protect myself.

Before I could speak, he beat me to it. "Listen, beautiful, I know you're interested in Sorensen. If you want, I can help you get him. He and I are close—I know how he thinks."

I had absolutely zero desire to engage with this man in any capacity. The thought that he might have been standing outside that bathroom door, watching my shadow move behind the glass, made my stomach turn with revulsion. Even though he'd chosen a topic that would normally interest me, I wanted nothing to do with him.

I kept my voice flat and cold. "I'm not interested in 'playing' with him. I don't need your help. Please move."

But my rejection only seemed to excite him more, his eyes brightening with renewed interest. "Then let's be friends. We could hang out sometime, have some fun together."

I'd had enough. I tried to move around him from a different angle, but he smoothly blocked that path too, his body language making it clear this wasn't accidental. His gaze dropped to the exposed skin below my collarbone, and I saw the heat intensify in his expression, making my skin prickle with disgust.

"Trust me, sweetheart," he continued, his voice taking on a sickeningly suggestive tone. "Plenty of men would be happy to do things for you. You're incredibly attractive."

Understanding his true intentions now, I stopped trying to escape. Instead, I crossed my arms beneath my chest, which only served to emphasize the curves there. I could practically feel his eyes gluing themselves to my body, and the naked hunger in his stare made me want to shower all over again.

"Oh?" I said, my tone dripping with false interest. "Do things for me? Anything I want?"

"Absolutely, beautiful. I promise you that." His smile widened, confidence oozing from every pore.

He took another step closer, clearly emboldened by what he mistook for encouragement. I didn't retreat. Instead, I met his gaze with cold calculation.

"Including you? You'd do anything I asked?"

"Of course, sweetheart. I couldn't possibly refuse you." His expression turned ingratiating, almost desperate in its eagerness.

"Perfect. Actually, there is something I need you to do for me right now."

"What's that?" He leaned in eagerly, practically salivating.

I pointed upward at the ceiling. "Can you tell me what that is up there?"

He glanced up reflexively, and in that split second of distraction, I channeled all my strength into my ankle and drove my foot upward with vicious precision, slamming it directly into his crotch with every ounce of force I could muster.

"AHHHHH!"

His scream was absolutely inhuman, a sound of pure agony that echoed through the entire apartment. I heard two doors slam open simultaneously as Sorensen and the two girls Luke had brought home came rushing out to investigate the commotion.

The girls' eyes went wide with horror when they saw Luke crumpled on the floor, both hands clutching his groin as he writhed in pain. "Oh my God! Luke! What happened to you?!"

"That fucking bi—" he started to snarl through his pain.

"Sen! He tried to rape me!" I cut him off, my voice breaking with manufactured distress as I pressed my hands to my face, mimicking tears that didn't exist. Before anyone could process what was happening, I threw myself against Sorensen's chest, burying my face against him as if seeking protection from a terrible assault.