Amina’s fingers trembled slightly as they danced across the keys of the old upright piano in her small apartment. The melody she’d been working on felt distant now, overshadowed by the memory of Jamal’s hands on her body, his thick cock stretching her in the studio just two days earlier. She’d told Karim she had an extra vocal coaching session. He’d kissed her forehead and wished her luck, oblivious as always.

The doorbell rang. Her stomach flipped.