Night Queen's target

In a broad room with dim lighting from the golden chandeliers, a groan echoed from a pale man. 

A thick mist enveloped the room due to the chill from the jacuzzi a pale man lay in. "That bastard hits hard," he uttered with a deep groan.

Two women clad in maid attire massaged his bare, broad back and shoulder. As massage therapists, their skills could not be doubted. 

The ice that floated on the surface of the water gleamed softly each time White moved his legs. They filled the jacuzzi with ice and water, and White lay inside.

"A drink," he muttered nonchalantly, and the door opened. A brown-haired woman, also clad in maid attire, shivered as she walked into the icy room. 

The moist air made her clothes damp before she reached White's position. She lowered her torso, and White's fingers, which were so pale that many would doubt blood, ran through them, coiled around the glass cup.