On the screen, Mike stood at the entrance of the hotel, dressed in a well-tailored black suit, a fresh flower pinned to his chest, anxiously looking around.
"Mike, the lucky hour is almost here, why hasn’t the bride arrived?"
The host's puzzled voice came from the phone.
The man retracted his phone, stomping on the knuckles where I'd written with a brutal force.
"Been watching long enough?" he sneered. "I could tell yesterday that you, this toad, were trying to get a taste of something beyond your reach. But you're still not giving up, huh? You probably don't even know, Mike's fiancee is a renowned mortician, even the police take her seriously! She's nothing like the likes of you, some scamming gambler!"
The sharp pain from the brutal kick made me curl into a ball, but despite the agony, a sliver of hope surged within me.
As long as Mike realized I was missing, he would definitely come looking for me.
The auspicious time had arrived at the hotel.
The guests were whispering among themselves and the emcee had already rearranged the program for the third time.
Mike stood in the lounge, calling my phone over and over again, but no one ever answered.