Thriller Is money, sex and revenge such things that makes humans animals ?

[Naruto411]

### A Disturbing Surprise

Layla had barely put her phone down after the call with Imran when it rang again, the screen flashing with his name. Her heart raced, a mix of anticipation and dread bubbling within her. She hesitated for a moment before answering. When she accepted the call, the familiar image of Imran filled the screen, but this time, it felt different—darker.

“Hello, Layla,” he said, his smirk evident even through the pixels. The sight of him made her stomach churn. She had hoped for a glimpse of her son, but instead, it was just Imran, his eyes glinting with a predatory gleam.

“Imran,” she greeted, trying to keep her voice steady. “Is everything okay?”

### The Twist of the Knife

He leaned back in his chair, a casual confidence radiating from him. “Everything is perfectly fine. But I need you to be prepared for something this Sunday.”

Her heart sank as a feeling of dread washed over her. She could already sense where this was going. “What do you need me to do?”

Imran’s grin widened, an unsettling excitement in his gaze. “I have an important guest coming to Dubai, a friend of mine. He’s quite the… connoisseur of pleasure.”

A chill ran down her spine. “What does that mean?”

“Layla, I want you to entertain him,” he said casually, as if he were asking her to pick up groceries. “Make sure you’re up to the standard I expect. You remember how to please, don’t you?”

### A Dangerous Game

Layla’s heart raced, and she felt the blood drain from her face. “Imran, I don’t think I—”

“Don’t think, Layla,” he interrupted, his tone sharp. “Just do it. I need to see if you’re still the same as before, ready to put on a show.”

Her stomach twisted as the implications sank in. She had done things in the past for Imran, but this felt different. It felt darker, more controlling. She glanced down at her towel, still wrapped around her, a fleeting sense of vulnerability washing over her.

“Layla, are you still there?” Imran's voice broke through her thoughts, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good. Now, why don’t you remove that towel? Let’s talk freely,” he commanded, his gaze piercing through the screen as if he could strip away her defenses.

### A Struggle for Control

A rush of anger and humiliation surged through her. How could he treat her like this? But even as she struggled with her emotions, a part of her felt compelled to comply. The fear of losing her son’s safety loomed larger than her pride.

She hesitated, biting her lip, weighing her options. But the consequences of defiance were clear, and the memory of her son flashed in her mind—his innocent smile, the longing to hold him again.

“Layla, time is ticking,” Imran said, his voice low and almost threatening.

Taking a deep breath, she made a decision. “Fine,” she said, her voice steady. “But I won’t be your puppet anymore.”

### The Submission

Imran’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but then he smirked again. “I like a woman with fire. Just remember, this is for your son.”

With that, Layla reluctantly began to remove the towel, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on her shoulders. The act felt both liberating and degrading at the same time, a twisted game she never wanted to play but had no choice in.

“Now, let’s see if you’re still as beautiful as ever,” Imran said, his tone teasing yet possessive.

As Layla sat there, vulnerable yet defiant, she realized that the game was far from over. Imran held all the cards, and while she longed to reclaim her life, she was still trapped in his web—a plaything in a game that had no clear end.