The man supposed high-class club girls Like Nicole were skilled at playing these games, far more enticing than the ordinary women he was used to. This kind of teasing was a hundred times more arousing than just stripping.

His filthy hands reached out to touch Nicole. Nicole bit her lip to hide her disgust and then grabbed his hand, bringing it to her chest.

She knew she had only one chance. If the man survived, he would alert the guards outside. Those guards were armed with real weapons, and she wouldn't be able to get close to them before being riddled with bullets.

Taking a deep breath, Nicole called the man “Kind sir" in a trembling voice, further arousing him.

Nicole's techniques were incredibly effective. Without letting the man touch her most sensitive areas, she had the man more excited than ever.

The man commented silently that women who appeared serious on the surface could be wild in private.

Nicole knew she had to let the man touch her, or he would become impatient and lose interest.

Enduring her revulsion, Nicole placed his large hand on her chest, with only her thin bra in between. The softness of her skin made the man's heart pound.

The man grew more impatient, moving closer in an attempt to kiss Nicole, tearing at her clothes.

Nicole pretended to cooperate, moving closer and offering her lips.

Just as the man was about to kiss her, Nicole struck.

Without hesitation, Nicole plunged the fruit fork into the man's carotid artery.

The man's eyes bulged with shock, and he opened his mouth to scream.

But it was already too late. Nicole had swiftly covered his mouth with her hand, muffling any sounds he tried to make.

With a firm push, Nicole drove the fruit fork deeper into his neck until it was fully buried, causing blood to spray out and coat her hand completely.

The man's final look was one of sheer disbelief. He couldn't fathom how a delicate woman like Nicole possessed the strength to end his life.

Having trafficked countless girls over the years, the man had never imagined meeting his end at the hands of one of them. It was a grim sort of humor, a darkly ironic twist of fate.

Seeing that the man had ceased breathing, Nicole gently lowered him onto the bed before withdrawing her only weapon, the fruit fork.

Blood splattered everywhere, soaking the wooden walls of the small hut.

Nicole's clothing was drenched in blood as well. At this point, she paid no mind to the filthy bucket of water. Instead, she used it to cleanse both her body and the fork until neither bore any trace of blood.