Part 2: The Hard Way

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As we stood by Vegas's sleek, expensive car, I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with embarrassment. Here I was, dressed in torn and dirty clothes, my appearance a stark contrast to Vegas's polished exterior. His tailored suit hugged his frame perfectly, the fine fabric a testament to his newfound prosperity. It was hard to believe how much he had changed since our time together – from struggling alongside me in poverty to now flaunting his wealth without a care in the world.

"I will not leave you alone today," Vegas stated firmly, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. "It's still dangerous out there for you."

I wanted to protest, to assert my independence and pride, but before I could utter a word, Vegas interrupted with a chilling tone that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I don't remember asking for your permission, Pete," he said coldly, his gaze piercing through me with an intensity that made me falter.

I felt a wave of humiliation wash over me, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Who was I to refuse his help, especially when I was in such desperate need of it? But the thought of burdening him with my troubles weighed heavily on my conscience.

"I don't want to bother you, Vegas," I muttered, unable to meet his gaze. "You saving me was enough of a burden."

But Vegas brushed off my concerns with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't think so much," he said, his voice softer now. "Just think of it as repayment for the times you helped me."

His words struck a nerve, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within me. Did he truly see our past through such transactional eyes? Was all that we shared reduced to mere debts to be repaid?

Before I could gather my thoughts, Vegas's grip tightened around me, pulling me closer with an unexpected strength. I tried to push him away, to assert my independence, but his hold was unyielding, his muscles taut with determination.

"Why are you saving me?" I demanded, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't need your help. I don't need you to repay me for anything."

I struggled against Vegas's firm grip, pushing against his chest with all my might. "Let go of me," I pleaded, my voice strained with desperation.

But Vegas remained steadfast, his grip unyielding as he stared back at me with an unsettling calmness. "I give you the easy way," he said, his voice low and menacing. "But you're choosing the hard way."

Before I could protest further, he moved with lightning speed, his hand darting towards my neck in a swift and calculated motion. A sharp pain shot through me, and suddenly, everything went dark. The world around me faded away, and I was consumed by an overwhelming sense of dizziness and confusion.

I tried to cry out, to fight against the darkness that threatened to engulf me, but it was no use. Whatever Vegas had done to me had rendered me powerless, at his mercy in ways I couldn't comprehend. Panic surged through me as I struggled to make sense of what was happening, but it was as if I had lost control over my own body and mind.

As I slipped further into unconsciousness, a single thought echoed in my mind – what had Vegas done to me?

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