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

[Naruto411]

### Restless Night

Layla lay in bed, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. The darkness felt suffocating, and she couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped in a life she no longer recognized. Desperate for relief from the tension coiling in her chest, she reluctantly let her hand drift down her body. It was a choice she didn’t fully endorse, but the release was a fleeting escape from the chaos of her mind.

As she succumbed to sleep, her subconscious pulled her into a world of memories—scenes from her past that felt like a haunting nightmare.

### Flashbacks of Manipulation

In her dream, she saw Zainab’s face, a mix of charm and cunning, introducing her to Imran. The first time their eyes locked, she had felt a thrill, a rush of excitement that quickly twisted into something darker. Imran had a way of making her feel special, but it was always followed by a tightening grip on her autonomy.

Zainab and Imran had manipulated her, using her body as a tool to curry favors and gain leverage over others. Vivid images flashed through her mind—how they had paraded her in front of powerful men, each encounter leaving her feeling more objectified, more lost.

Pregnancy had offered no reprieve; rather, it had intensified the manipulation. They had blackmailed others with her vulnerability, taking advantage of her at her most fragile. The sickening memories left her feeling nauseous.

### The Harsh Reality

As she tossed and turned, flashes of their cruelty came rushing back—Imran’s smirk as he relished in the power he held over her, the way he had disregarded her feelings entirely. With every encounter, she had felt more like a pawn in their game than a person.

It had been sickening, and yet, somehow, she had survived. She had managed to carve out a life for herself, but it was far from what she truly wanted. The aching void within her seemed insurmountable.

### Waking in Shame

Suddenly, she jolted awake, breathless and disoriented. The remnants of her dream clung to her like a fog, leaving her heart racing. As she lay there, the warmth between her legs was a stark reminder of her body’s betrayal. The shame flooded in, overwhelming her. How could she still find herself aroused by thoughts of those who had abused her?

The confusion tormented her. Her mind and body were at war, twisted together by a life filled with men like Imran and Rashid. The countless encounters, the manipulation, and the degradation had taken their toll, leaving her feeling like a shell of her former self.

### The Weight of Existence

Layla pressed her hands to her face, trying to ground herself in the present. She was a mother, a woman who had dreams that felt like distant stars, obscured by the clouds of her past. Each day with Rashid chipped away at her sanity, forcing her into a role she despised.

She hated that she felt this way—used and broken, yet still somehow a source of pleasure for others. It was a cycle she longed to escape but felt powerless to break.

### The Flicker of Resolve

With each breath, she fought against the tide of despair. It was time to reclaim her life, to fight against the narrative that had been written for her. She couldn't afford to let Imran, Zainab, or Rashid define her existence any longer.

Tomorrow would be a new day. A day to plot her escape from this nightmare and protect her son from the twisted legacy of her choices. She would not let her past dictate her future.

As she settled back into bed, she closed her eyes, envisioning a life where she was in control—a life where she could be the mother her son deserved, free from the chains of her past. But to her bad luck she remembered past interaction with imran when she was pregnant with her son

In dream

Layla's phone buzzed, cutting through her hazy recollections. She glanced at the screen, feeling her heart drop as she saw Imran’s name flashing ominously. She hesitated for a moment before answering, knowing the conversation would likely spiral into territory she loathed.

“Layla,” Imran greeted, his voice dripping with a familiarity that both comforted and terrified her. “We need to talk.”

“What about?” she replied, her heart racing in anticipation of his demands.

“I have a special request,” he continued, his tone shifting to something more calculated. “There’s a politician I want you to entertain. He has a… particular kink for pregnant women.”

A chill ran down her spine as she processed his words. The idea of entertaining a man while carrying the weight of her child felt utterly revolting.

A Cruel Revelation
“Imran, I can’t do that,” she protested, a tremor in her voice. “I’m not comfortable with that kind of—”

“Comfort doesn’t matter here, Layla,” he cut in, his voice sharpening. “This politician is influential. He can open doors for me, and you’re going to be the one to make that happen.”

As she stood in the small, dimly lit room, memories of her past flashed in her mind—moments where Imran had made similar demands, twisting her arm until she felt powerless to resist. But what he said next turned her blood cold.

“Besides,” he added nonchalantly, “you’ll want to thank me for getting you pregnant. I switched your pills while you were distracted. I figured it would serve a purpose.”

The Horrific Truth
The weight of his confession slammed into her, leaving her breathless. Imran had done it on purpose. The pregnancy wasn’t just an accident—it was a tool in his twisted game. The thought of being paraded in front of a politician like some trophy filled her with dread.

“Why would you do that?” she demanded, anger flooding her voice. “You know how vulnerable this makes me!”

“Exactly,” he replied coolly. “Vulnerability breeds loyalty. If he likes the idea of a pregnant woman, it means you’ll hold more value to him. You’re a means to an end, Layla, and you need to start seeing things that way. I’m only doing what’s best for us.”

A Silent Struggle
Layla felt the familiar feeling of hopelessness creeping in. She wanted to scream, to lash out at him, but she knew that doing so would only lead to repercussions she couldn’t afford. Imran had his hooks in her deeply, and the thought of standing up to him now felt impossible.

“Look, just think about it,” he continued, seemingly unfazed by her silence. “This could be a huge opportunity for both of us. Besides, who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

The way he said "enjoy" made her skin crawl. Imran had always had a knack for twisting words, wrapping them in a false sense of security. But the truth was painfully clear: she was nothing more than a pawn in his game, and her body was merely a vessel for his ambitions.

A Fateful Decision
As she hung up the phone, Layla felt a wave of nausea wash over her—not just from the idea of entertaining a politician but from the realization that she was trapped in a life that had spiraled far beyond her control. Her heart raced as she wondered how she would ever escape Imran’s grip and reclaim her life, not just for herself, but for her child.

That day, the thought of confronting Imran’s demands settled heavily on her. She felt as if she were standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the abyss below, contemplating whether she had the strength to leap into the unknown or if she would remain ensnared in this life of manipulation and control.

Deep down, she knew she had to find a way out, not just for her own sake, but to protect the innocent life growing within her. In that moment, she made a silent vow: she would do whatever it took to shield her child from the twisted legacy of her past, even if it meant confronting the horrors she had come to accept.