Chapter 9: A Visitor in the Night

"Damn it!"

"Wait... wait... go easy!!"

"Ouch! Idiot, be gentle with me!"

Philip Walters, with his lean body, lay on the edge of the bed, occasionally letting out painful groans.

A woman clad only in sexy lingerie was dabbing medicinal alcohol on his body with a cotton swab, the extensive bruising clearly indicating his miserable state. Marcus hadn't laid a hand on him; otherwise, with his terrifying strength, it's doubtful Philip would have made it back alive.

But a firm grip and a squeeze from that huge hand nearly cost the debauched young man half his life, and in the end, Marcus truly threw him out the door, leaving him sprawled on the concrete outside the villa for a good while before he managed to get up, half of his body covered in purple bruises.

In fact, the moment Marcus had him by the neck, Philip had already begun to regret his actions. He hadn't expected Bruce to avoid arguing and simply ordered his bodyguard to toss him out. He, who had always sailed smoothly in Hollywood circles, had never faced such an embarrassing scene before!

That damn nouveau riche, a barbaric primitive! He'll soon learn what I'm capable of!

The disheveled Philip didn't choose to go home, having long lost any desire to see the ugly woman there. Instead, he went straight to the apartment where his old flame lived. This woman, Catherine Sanchez, a minor actress, had landed many roles, large and small, with Philip's support and was always at his beck and call.

The key was, with her Mexican heritage, Catherine had a fantastic figure, her wheatish skin and strong thighs could send him to heights of ecstasy in bed.

"It's terrible... Philip, what happened?" Catherine, timidly applying medicine to his bruises, asked with a hint of horror.

"It's nothing... Damn it! A few wretched fools, they got worse than me, probably broke that kid's ribs, trying to rob me of all people, but they picked the wrong target!"

Philip was a man who loved face, he would never admit to being thrown out; besides, it was true Bruce hadn't physically assaulted him, and even the bear-like bodyguard had merely tossed him out. He certainly wouldn't spread such embarrassing news.

But revenge was definitely in order, a harsh revenge! He would make that bastard understand the consequences of offending Philip! He wants to make movies, and make that little girl famous, does he? Maybe in his next life!

As his thoughts raced, the cool medicinal alcohol evidently began to work, and Philip soon felt the pain lessen considerably. Gazing at the voluptuous Catherine, he couldn't help but feel a warmth in his lower abdomen.

Catherine Sanchez also noticed his greedy gaze landing on her chest. She put down the bottle of medicinal alcohol, revealing a seductive smile and deliberately bending over a little more, allowing Philip a clearer view.

What a charming little succubus! Looking at the deep cleavage, Philip couldn't help but swallow his saliva. That damn Bruce Lee was temporarily left behind by him, although he must let the kid know that he was good, but now enjoy it. Philip reached out and pulled Catherine Sanchez into his arms, rubbed her chest fiercely, and in a few moments, he was a little anxious to press the woman's head to his crotch.

"Well... awesome... my Catherine sweetheart! Yes yes! It's there."

This was why Philip Walters was obsessed with this woman. Her ** ability was so great that it made him memorable, and he wanted to toss it a few times every day, how could he be willing to leave. After fully enjoying the service of the woman, Philip hurriedly pulled the other party to bed, but he still felt some pain on his body, and even a little uncomfortable on his bones.

Damn it! Did that big man grow up on hormones? With such terrifying strength, he was like a standing polar bear!

Since he didn't want to move, Philip simply laid down and let the woman sit on him. Sure enough, this position was much more comfortable, not only saving effort but also enjoying it. Moreover, Catherine was obviously very familiar with his habits and sensitive areas, and soon Philip felt the wonderful feeling of being in the clouds, so cool that he even closed his eyes.

"Yes... yes... awesome, hurry up..."

Not long after, just when Philip couldn't help himself and was almost at the peak, he suddenly felt Catherine sitting on him lying down softly, and then his little brother seemed to be sucked by countless small mouths. It was a wonderful situation that he had never experienced before. Under such intense stimulation, Philip, who was about to die, immediately orgasmed.

Philip, utterly euphoric, spent several minutes in a dazed state, feeling as if he was floating in the clouds, his body limp and tingling, unable to touch the ground. After a while, he barely managed to move, sleepily patting the woman sprawled over him to signal that she could get up.

But Catherine didn't move an inch, didn't respond at all. Philip found this odd and was about to open his eyes when a deep male voice resonated in the room.

"How does it feel? Is it the most comfortable you've ever been in your life?"

Philip Walters was startled into alertness, quickly pushing Catherine aside and sitting up.

He saw that in the room that was supposed to be just him and Catherine, two men in black hoodies had appeared out of nowhere. Their heads were concealed within the hoods, and their faces covered with masks made of an indiscernible fabric, printed with intricate patterns of black and red that seemed to follow a bizarre order. Just a glance at them could induce a strong sense of dizziness and nausea.

"Oh, God! Who are you? How did you get in here?" Philip, somewhat panicked, grabbed a piece of clothing to cover his lower body, frantically trying to rouse Catherine lying beside him. "Get up, Catherine..."

"The woman needs to sleep for a while; she won't be waking up anytime soon. This way, she won't interrupt our conversation," said the two masked men, their voices clear despite the masks, designed to leave space for the mouth and nose.

The man on the left, as if in his own home, nonchalantly pulled over a chair and sat down leisurely.

"Oh no! You've killed Catherine... Let me go, what do you want, money or something? I have money, I can give you anything, please don't kill me." Philip was frantically pushing and shoving Catherine, seeing no response from her, he started to fall apart, speaking rapidly in a desperate and incoherent plea.

"Shut up!"

The pathetic display clearly disgusted the standing man, who coldly spat out two words at Philip, making him reflexively shrink back and quiver, his lips trembling as he finally dared not speak another word.