One night after several days, I was awakened from my sleep by the ringing phone.
I answered groggily, and Joyce's crying voice came through the receiver.
"Colten, I regret it! Please come and save me!
"Save… No…"
Her voice was quickly interrupted by angry shouts from different men, and her voice faded away.
Maybe it was too chaotic, and it took several minutes for someone to notice Joyce's phone.
Soon, the call ended.
As a man, I naturally understood the consequences Joyce faced after being dragged away.
Emotionally, I felt a sense of relief that she had fallen into this state.
But rationally, I knew she was still a girl; even if she had made mistakes, she shouldn't be punished in this way.
I would recover the money I spent on her through legal means with a lawyer.
As for the feelings and effort I invested in her, I would chalk it up to a lesson learned in romance.
The inner conflict between my emotions and logic ended with logic prevailing.
Sighing, I got up, dressed, and drove to the club where Joyce was.
Upon entering the room, I immediately saw Joyce huddled in a corner, her clothes disheveled, with two handprints on her face.
When she saw me, her eyes lit up.