"No, keep the jacket." Marienne pressed a hand against Anna's back, ensuring the fabric stayed draped over her shoulders. "I brought some of your clothes to the room, but it's better to keep you covered as we go through reception, don't you think?"
Her saccharine smile made Anna's stomach twist. There it was—that subtle sting, carefully hidden beneath her supposedly selfless act. Marienne could never do a good deed without leaving a bruise behind.
Yet, to Anna's surprise, she didn't attempt to humiliate her in front of the receptionist. Instead, she simply collected the key card, flashed another polished smile, and led the way to the elevators.
"I'm sorry again, Anna," Marienne finally spoke as they stepped out onto the quiet hallway leading to the room. "I know it's not my place to say anything, but I was really shocked by the way Colette treated you. If anything, I tried to convince her to let you stay with us until you could… do something with your life."
Stay with us? Do something with your life?
Anna's grip tightened on the fabric of the borrowed jacket, her nails pressing into the soft material. Marienne's words slithered into her ears like poison, spreading thick and suffocating through her veins.
"Would you like a drink?" Marienne continued breezily, already crouching in front of the mini bar. "I turned the heating on, but I think alcohol would do the trick faster. And you like to drink, don't you? Robert told me you drink quite a lot."
She suddenly paused, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, her expression twisting into a mockery of guilt. "Oh… I'm sorry. Is that a sensitive topic? He told me he was concerned about you, drinking so much—"
"I'll drink," Anna cut her off, her voice flat as she shrugged off the jacket and tossed it onto the small couch beside the bed. "Get me something strong."
She couldn't stomach another word from Marienne's sickeningly sweet voice. Accepting her help had been a necessity, not a choice, and that didn't mean she had to sit through her endless, condescending chatter—at least not while sober.
Marienne's lips curled into a knowing smile as she reached for a bottle of scotch, grabbing two glasses with effortless grace. As she poured, Anna sank onto the couch near the artificial fireplace, shivering slightly as the warm air seeped into her chilled bones, coaxing a bit of life back into her exhausted body.
All she wanted was to drink herself into oblivion, to let the alcohol burn away the memory of this entire miserable day.
"Here you go." Marienne's voice was uncharacteristically soft as she pressed a glass into Anna's hands. For once, she didn't add any snide remarks—though her keen gaze remained fixed on Anna, watching with barely concealed curiosity as she downed the drink in a few long, desperate sips.
Marienne placed her own glass on the sleek coffee table beside them. "Feeling better now?" she asked, her voice laced with feigned concern.
Anna's gaze flickered to the untouched drink, her vision slightly blurred, her mouth strangely watering at the sight of it.
"Yes…" she mumbled, then hesitated. "Uh… can I finish yours?"
"Sure," Marienne chirped, pushing the glass closer with an encouraging smile. "Help yourself."
Anna snatched the glass and downed its contents in one swift motion, barely tasting the sharp burn of alcohol before a strange sensation settled in. Her tongue tingled, swelling slightly as if reacting to an unseen allergen. A wave of heaviness crashed over her, dragging her down, while the room around her spun in slow, disorienting circles.
Marienne smirked, though her voice dripped with artificial concern. "Are you alright? You don't look so good. Maybe that second drink was a bit too much…"
Anna groaned, trying to move, but her limbs felt impossibly heavy, as if she were sinking into the couch. Every muscle in her body ached with an unfamiliar soreness, a deep, pulsing fatigue that left her both feverish and oddly languid—like she was melting into herself.
Marienne sighed theatrically, her cold fingers brushing against Anna's flushed cheek. "It's a shame, really," she murmured, tilting her head in mock sympathy. "I used to be so jealous of your looks. But thanks to all that drinking, you've started to lose your beauty. Not that I'm complaining—it's worked out quite well for me."
Before Anna could process her words, Marienne suddenly shoved her down, gripping her shoulders and pinning her against the couch.
A sharp jolt of pain shot through Anna's sluggish body. She groaned, her breath shallow and strained. "What… what are you doing? What's… going on…?"
Marienne laughed, low and cold, her saccharine mask slipping entirely. "What do you think is going on, you stupid bitch?" she sneered. "God, I can't believe how pathetic you actually are. You know, you should be grateful I laced your drink. At least this way, you won't feel much."
Anna's mind reeled, foggy and slow, but one question managed to break through the haze.
"Feel… what…?"
Anna could barely form words. Her tongue felt thick and foreign in her mouth, each attempt at speech dissolving into incoherent murmurs. Deep down, she understood what was happening—what Marienne had done to her—but whatever was laced in the drinks was acting far too quickly, rendering her helpless.
"God…" She tried to shift, to sit up, but her body refused to obey. Even the simplest movement felt like dragging herself through wet cement. "Why? Why do—"
Marienne let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes. "Oh, for God's sake." Her voice dripped with irritation as she reached up to tuck a strand of golden hair behind her ear. "I should've used a stronger dose—this pathetic blabbering is unbearable. Just shut the hell up already."
With a sudden, sharp motion, she shoved Anna's head back against the couch. The impact sent a dull, throbbing pain through her skull. A choked whimper escaped her lips as hot tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her numb cheeks.
Ignoring her entirely, Marienne pulled out her phone and dialed, tapping her manicured nails impatiently against the armrest as the call connected.
"Leon?" She barked the moment the line picked up. "She's ready. Room 1004. And please, stick to the plan. The money will be transferred once the job is done."
Without another word, she ended the call and slipped her phone back into her purse. Her bright blue eyes flickered toward Anna's limp form, a cruel smirk tugging at her lips.
"Farewell, Anna," she murmured, her voice saccharine-sweet. "And thanks for your final, generous gift."