[Chapter 219: Silent Hill]
"Two hundred thousand dollars, and one month rest."
Rachel let the hem of her dress fall, her tone thick with resentment. "In the end, I learned a damn lesson."
Daniel replied, "Megan's different from you."
Rachel's eyes flickered, sharp. "Because she slept with you?"
Daniel nodded, admitting it without hesitation. "Yeah."
Rachel's gaze shifted a few times, then she said, "I... I can too."
"Uh..." Daniel was completely thrown. At first, he hadn't entertained any designs on Rachel.
"Wedding Crashers is going to be a huge hit," Daniel changed the subject quickly. "I've seen the final cut; your performance outshines the male lead."
"Really?" Rachel's eyes brightened noticeably.
Daniel nodded. "It's going to be one of the best comedies this year."
Rachel took a deep breath, steadying her emotions. "Of course, I trust your vision. If it weren't for your heads-up back then, I'd still be spinning my wheels with those lame scripts."
Thinking of her upcoming plans, her tone softened, almost flirty. "Besides, my agent told me the role of Pepper Potts in Iron Man has already been locked down. Daniel, thank you for holding that important part for me."
Daniel smiled. "Still feeling unlucky?"
Rachel's irritation melted into laughter as she reached out to straighten his shirt collar. "At least you have a conscience."
Daniel shrugged. "Consider the role of Pepper Potts your compensation."
"No." Rachel leaned in close, her breath warm and scented like orchids in his ear. "I need a different kind of compensation..."
As they left the theater, Rachel linked her arm through Daniel's, flashing a confident, radiant smile under the blaze of camera flashes.
...
Night. Beverly Hills. Daniel's mansion.
The sound of Rachel's car engine cutting out was muffled in the quiet garage.
She pushed open the door, the hem of her evening gown brushing against the cold marble floor. Taking a few steps, she stopped in front of Daniel.
Her voice was husky. "Now, I want to get a different type of 'compensation'."
Daniel said nothing but reached out, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close.
Rachel tilted her head up, eyes fierce and daring.
He didn't wait. In one fluid, sweeping motion, he hooked his arm under her knees and hoisted her against his chest.
Rachel let out a sharp, stifled gasp, her arms instinctively locking around his neck, her evening gown bunching up around her thighs. He carried her with a predatory efficiency, his strides long and purposeful as he navigated the marble halls of the mansion, heading straight for the master suite.
The moment they hit the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted. He didn't set her down gently; he dropped her onto the center of the expansive king-sized bed. The impact bounced her slightly, and before she could even catch her breath, Daniel was over her, his weight a heavy, welcome pressure.
Rachel took the initiative, her hands roaming greedily over his chest, undoing his buttons with a frantic energy. She wanted to be the one in control, to dictate the terms of this 'compensation.' She pushed him back slightly, sliding down his body to strip him of his trousers, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of his skin. She worked him with an expert precision, her fingers curling around his hardness, guiding him toward her.
Daniel groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated against her chest as Rachel's mouth worked its magic. He arched his back, his fingers digging into the silk sheets, fighting the urge to simply flip her over and take what he wanted. But the power dynamic of this night, and the fierce hunger in Rachel's eyes made her dominance in this moment intoxicating.
She didn't stop until he was fully exposed and trembling. With a slow, deliberate look of triumph, Rachel shifted her weight, gliding upward until she was perched atop him, her gown discarded in a heap of expensive fabric on the floor. She was a vision of pale skin and raw desire, her breasts heaving, the nipples peaked and hard against the cool air of the room.
She didn't slide down immediately. Instead, she teased him, grinding her hips in slow, agonizing circles against his thigh, letting him feel the slick, drenched heat of her center soaking through the thin lace of her panties. Daniel's patience snapped. He reached up, his large hands gripping her hips with a bruising intensity, and yanked her down.
The first plunge was sudden and uncompromising. Rachel let out a loud, uncontrolled cry, her head snapping back as he buried himself deep within her in one powerful thrust.
The sensation was overwhelming -- a sudden, filling stretch that made her toes curl and her vision blur. She gasped for air, her chest heaving, as he began to move.
He didn't hold back, driving into her with a rhythmic, predatory force. Each stroke was deep and deliberate, hitting her sweet spot with a precision that sent electric shocks radiating through her entire body.
Rachel gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, her voice reduced to a series of desperate, fragmented moans.
"Only this... much... compensation?" she gasped, her voice breaking.
Daniel didn't answer with words.
He reached up, his large hands gripping her hips with a bruising strength, with a sudden, powerful surge, he flipped her, pinning her back against the silk sheets.
The air left her lungs in a rush, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of him dominating her space.
He locked her wrists above her head with one hand, his fingers digging into the mattress. He dove into her, his thrusts deep, rhythmic, and uncompromising. Every hit was a claim, a reminder of who actually held the power in the room.
Rachel's defiance dissolved into raw, unfiltered need. She arched her back, her nails digging into his shoulders, her voice breaking into high, frantic whimpers as he drove her toward a peak she couldn't escape. He leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck, whispering a command for her to take every bit of him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him in, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them. The pace accelerated, becoming a frantic, blurring collision of heat and sweat. Rachel's breath came in short, sharp hitches, her internal muscles clenching around him in rhythmic pulses.
As the climax crested, Daniel let out a raw shout, his body stiffening as he delivered a final, shattering surge of depth.
Rachel screamed into the crook of his neck, her entire body shuddering in a violent, prolonged orgasm that left her limp and gasping.
Daniel surged one last time, pinning her body flat against the bed as he spilled into her, his muscles locking in a violent, satisfying release.
Rachel collapsed beneath him, trembling and breathless, the 'compensation' far more exhaustive than anything she had ever imagined.
...
The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the cracked curtains.
Daniel leaned back against the headboard, his phone screen glowing in his hand.
Succubus Chris's mischievous face popped up from the corner of the screen. "Master, the morning report is in. The first-day box office for Wedding Crashers hit $11.3 million. Columbia Pictures' stock opened two points higher today. Rachel is now officially the 'Sweetheart' across the U.S."
Rachel stirred awake at the phone's buzz, sitting up and running her hands through tangled long hair.
Her silk nightgown slipped loosely off her shoulders, revealing skin that had grown increasingly luminous from magical nourishment.
She took the phone Daniel handed her, her body trembling slightly as she stared at the eight-figure number.
"You were right again, Daniel." Rachel exhaled deeply and turned to look at him, admiration nearly spilling from her eyes. "Breaking ten million on the first day beat everyone's expectations."
She grabbed her own phone and saw dozens of unread messages. "My agent's nuts. Didn't sleep last night, sent me like fifty texts."
Leaning over, she kissed Daniel firmly on the lips.
"I'm off to work."
She headed toward the bathroom. "Agent says I've got three talk show invites and two luxury brand endorsements waiting to be signed. Gotta cash in while the hype's still hot."
"Make sure to get some rest," Daniel called after her, watching her lithe back.
"Right now, it feels like there's a nuclear reactor inside me -- I'm never getting tired," Rachel's voice floated from the bathroom, accompanied by splashing water.
Half an hour later, Rachel hurried out the door.
Before leaving, she paused at the threshold and looked back at Daniel.
"I'll clear my schedule before Iron Man starts filming. Then I'll be all yours."
He nodded with a smile, watching her head out, the car disappearing around the mountain road's curve.
...
Daniel pulled his gaze back and said, "Chris, check on The Devil Wears Prada at Fox for me."
"On it, Master."
Chris's fingers flew over the screen.
"The film rights have been with Fox since last year, but they haven't greenlit it officially. The director and screenwriter are confirmed, though. Planning to give that lead to Rachel?"
Daniel shook his head. "No. Rachel's steadier now -- I want to save her for an Oscar-worthy role later. Anne's look and her transformation from innocent to fashion queen..."
"...fits the original Miranda... no-- wait, Andrea," Daniel trailed.
"Anne Hathaway?" Chris curled her lip. "You really favor her."
"It's not bias. It's smart resource allocation," Daniel said calmly. "Anne needs a signature role to cement her A-list status, while Rachel needs depth."
"Got it. So what type of project are you plotting for Rachel's Oscar run?"
Daniel shrugged. "Haven't decided yet. We'll see when the time comes."
...
Night fell again.
Daniel was in his newly renovated training room, training.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated violently. Megan's name flashed on the screen.
He answered immediately, hearing Megan's voice choked with suppressed tears.
"Daniel... help... please..."
His eyes sharpened as he sat upright. "Megan? Calm down. Where are you?"
"I don't know... I don't know where this is!"
Her voice trembled; behind her, harsh electromagnetic interference buzzed, like countless whispers at her ear.
"I was driving home, clearly on Santa Monica Boulevard... when a thick fog rolled in. So thick I couldn't see the road and crashed into the guardrail. When I got out, everything had changed..."
Daniel's voice dropped low. "What do you see? Any landmarks?"
"No... no landmarks, no road signs. It's snowing, but the snow is gray! When it lands on my clothes, it's black ash. The houses look burnt down, like they've been smoldering for years."
Megan's fear grew shrill. "It's too quiet, Daniel. I can't hear anything..."
Daniel's heart skipped.
Thick fog, ash-black snow, burnt ruins.
The images overlapped with a horror movie based on a video game from his memory.
Silent Hill.
Could Megan have stumbled into the realm of Silent Hill?
All the bad luck that had been building for months had finally exploded -- dragging her not into a minor accident but into a deadly Forbidden Land in another dimension.
It was unbearably cruel.
Daniel felt speechless.
"Megan, listen carefully. Find a building and go inside right now. Find a safe place. Don't wander around. Wait for me there."
With that, Daniel strode out of the house.
*****
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