Capítulo 13: Object of desire

Iris swallows hard, her heart racing in her chest. The thought of belonging to the mayor, of being his puppet to do with as he pleases, is sickening. But she has no choice, no way out of this terrible situation. She nods again, her head bowed in defeat.

"I... I won't forget," she whispers, her voice tight and choked.

The mayor's smile is cold and cruel, his eyes glittering with dark satisfaction. He knows he has her completely under his control, and he relishes in it.

"Good," he says again. "Now go. Get ready for the party. And... don't keep De-Martin waiting." He waves his hand, a clear dismissal.

Iris stands up, her body trembling slightly. She feels weak, helpless, completely at the mercy of the mayor's whims. But she has no choice, no choice but to obey his orders. She nods once more, then turns and leaves the room, feeling as if a dark cloud has suddenly enveloped her. The party, and De-Martin, await her.

As Iris walks down the hallway, her heart is heavy, her mind filled with anxiety and fear. She has never felt more alone, more helpless, than she does right now. She doesn't want to do this, doesn't want to become the mayor's puppet, uses her 'charm' on De-Martin, but she has no choice. She knows she can't escape the mayor's grasp, and she fears what will happen if she doesn't obey his orders.

The thought of the party, of the people she'll have to smile and speak to while hiding her fear and disgust, makes her feel nauseous. How is she going to pretend everything is alright, pretend she's the "belle of the ball" when she's actually a prisoner, forced to do the mayor's bidding? She feels like she's walking into a nightmare, and there's no way out.

Iris was led into the room by one of the mayor's associates, their touch rough and ungentle. When she entered the room, she saw the same woman from the previous night, standing there with a sinister smile on her face. The woman looked just as scary as Iris remembered, her eyes glinting malevolently, her expression cold and calculating.

"Welcome back," the woman said, her voice cool and mocking.

Iris was intimidated by the woman's presence, her heart rate picking up as the woman stepped forwards, her eyes roaming over her. The woman's smile grew wider, her gaze raking over Iris's body in a way that made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

"Looking lovely, love," the woman purred.

Iris felt a shiver run down her spine at the woman's words, her tone too familiar, too condescending. She shifted uncomfortably under the woman's gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable. She didn't like the way the woman was staring at her, her eyes lingering on her curves and her features.

"What... What do you want?" she asked, her voice shaking.

The woman chuckled, a dark sound that sent chills down Iris's spine. She circled around Iris, her gaze never leaving her, her steps slow and deliberate.

"Oh darling, I'm here to make you beautiful for tonight," she said, her voice sweet and condescending. "You have a very important role to play, after all.

Iris's heart sank at the woman's words, her mind racing with anxious thoughts. She knew she was being prepared for the party, to play whatever role the mayor had planned for her. She hated it, hated feeling like a puppet, like a doll to be dressed up and manipulated at someone else's behest.

"What...what do you mean, an 'important role'? What am I supposed to do?" she asked, her voice trembling.

The woman chuckled again, this time more coldly, more cruelly. She stopped in front of Iris, her eyes narrowing as she reached out to touch her hair. The woman's fingers were cold, her touch a perversion of comfort.

"Sweetie, you're going to be the star of the show," she said, her voice low and almost mocking. "You're going to get De-Martin right where the mayor wants him. You're going to ensnare him, my dear."

Iris felt her heart skip a beat at the woman's words, her mouth going dry as she realized the full extent of the mayor's plans. De-Martin. She was going to have to seduce him, coax him, make him fall under the mayor's sway. The thought of it made her stomach turn.

"And how... How am I supposed to do that?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The woman's eyes sparkled with cold, cruel amusement. She stepped closer to Iris, her fingers trailing over her arms, her shoulders, her neck.

"Oh sweetheart, you just have to charm him. Flirt with him, flatter him, make him putty in your hands. You're a pretty girl, and men like that kind of thing. You'll do just fine, my dear."

..Iris felt a wave of shame and anger wash over her at the woman's words, her entire body tensed as the woman's cold touch continued to roam over her. She didn't want to do this, didn't want to be this man's puppet to be pulled on strings. But she had no choice, she was at the mayor's mercy.

"And... And if I fail?" she asked, her voice shaking.

The woman's eyes hardened, her touch becoming rougher as she gripped Iris's chin, forcing her to meet her gaze.

"You'd better not fail, sweet." she whispered, her voice a venomous hiss. "Because if you do, you don't want to know what the mayor will do to you. You're just a pawn here, love. He owns you, mind and body. Make him proud, or suffer the consequences."

Iris's heart raced in her chest, fear and dread gripping her as the woman's cold words hung in the air. She felt trapped, vulnerable, with no choice but to obey the mayor's orders. She nodded weakly, her body trembling with anxiety.

"I... I'll do my best," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The woman let out a cold laugh, her eyes sparkling with malicious satisfaction. She let go of Iris's chin, her touch suddenly gentle as she patted her cheek with mock sweetness.

"Good girl," she said, her words condescending and patronizing. "Now let's get you ready for the party, shall we?"

Iris felt a wave of revulsion as the woman's touch continued, her hands roaming across her body, pulling and adjusting her clothes. She felt like a doll being dressed up, a puppet being prepared for a grand theatrical performance. But she had no choice, no choice but to allow herself to be primped and styled, transformed into the mayor's puppet.

"You're going to be a vision, my dear," the woman said, her tone almost mocking. "De-Martin won't be able to resist you."

Iris's stomach churned with anxiety and trepidation as the woman continued to fuss over her, her fingers pulling and tugging at her hair, her hands smoothing out the fabric of her dress. She felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter, like prey being prepared to be served up to a hunter.

"You look perfect, love," the woman said, her voice sickly sweet. "Just perfect. Now, let's work on that smile, shall we?"

The woman took a step back, her eyes taking in Iris from head to toe. She walked around her silently, her eyes roving over her body, her gaze judgmental and calculating. The feeling of being exposed, of being examined so closely, was almost unbearable for Iris.

"You look... delicious," the woman said, her voice a cool, low murmur. "De-Martin is going to be drooling all over himself."

Iris felt a surge of disgust at the woman's words, her stomach rolling with nausea. She felt like a piece of meat, being appraised and judged based on her physical appearance, and the thought of being ogled and leered at by De-Martin made her nauseous. She didn't want to do this, didn't want to be reduced to a mere object of desire.