Chapter 12

You knock on the door of the sisters' modest apartment near campus. After a long pause, the door opens to reveal Giorgia, nearly unrecognizable from the confident athlete you know. Her eyes are puffy and rimmed with red, her normally lustrous black hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She's wearing baggy gray sweatpants and an oversized university volleyball team hoodie that swallows her athletic frame, as if trying to hide the body that betrayed her last night.

"Dr. Stern," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... thank you for coming." She steps back, allowing you into the apartment. The living room is neat but sparse, with a few framed photos of the sisters together on the walls. A volleyball trophy sits on a shelf, seeming to mock her current state.

"I wanted to check on you after last night," you say, your voice calibrated to convey concern. "How are you holding up?"

Giorgia collapses onto the couch, her tanned hands trembling slightly as they fidget with the drawstring of her hoodie. "I can't stop thinking about it," she confesses, tears welling in her eyes. "The championships are next week, and I can't focus. I tried to practice this morning, but I kept missing easy shots. Coach noticed something was wrong." Her voice cracks. "If that video gets out, I'll lose everything. My scholarship, my position as team captain..."

You sit beside her, close enough to establish trust but not so close as to threaten. "I've spoken with Jackson," you inform her. "I've arranged a mediation at the fraternity house this evening. We'll make sure that video never sees the light of day."

Hope flickers across her face, momentarily brightening her brown eyes. "Really? You'd do that for me?" Then suspicion clouds her features. "Why would they agree to that?"

"I reminded Jackson of the potential consequences—both academic and legal—of distributing such content without consent," you explain smoothly. "He seemed quite motivated to resolve this quietly."

Giorgia's shoulders sag with relief. "Thank you, Dr. Stern. I don't know what I would do..." She trails off, then looks around nervously. "Isabella's been acting strange too. She locked herself in her room when we got home and hasn't come out except to use the bathroom. She won't talk to me."

"One crisis at a time," you reassure her, patting her knee. "Let's focus on resolving your situation first. I need you to be at the fraternity house at 8 PM. Wear something... professional. We want to make it clear this is a serious matter."

Giorgia nods eagerly, desperate for a solution. "I'll be there. I'll do whatever it takes to make this go away."

"Giorgia, I can see how distressed you are," you say, your voice dropping to a soothing cadence. "Let me help you with a quick relaxation technique. It might help you focus before tonight's meeting."

She looks up at you with desperate hope in her reddened eyes. "Really? I'll try anything at this point."

"Perfect. Just sit back, get comfortable, and focus on my voice," you instruct, moving to sit directly across from her. Giorgia settles deeper into the couch, her athletic body visibly tense beneath the baggy clothes. "Close your eyes and take a deep breath."

She complies, her chest rising and falling beneath the oversized hoodie. You watch her tanned face gradually relax as you guide her through several breathing exercises, each breath taking her deeper into a receptive state.

"That's right, Giorgia. With each breath, you're becoming more relaxed, more focused," you murmur, your voice taking on the rhythmic quality you use during hypnosis sessions. "You're safe here. Safe to let go of all that tension, all that worry."

Her breathing slows, her lips parting slightly as she enters a light trance. The vulnerability on her face is exquisite—her defenses completely lowered, her mind open to your suggestions.

"Now, Giorgia, I want you to imagine tonight's meeting. See yourself walking into that fraternity house," you continue, your voice steady and authoritative. "As you enter that space, you'll feel a strange warmth spreading through your body. A familiar feeling."

Giorgia's brow furrows slightly, but she remains in trance, utterly receptive.

"That warmth will remind you of how you felt last night—free, uninhibited, desirable. When you hear the phrase 'video evidence,' you'll feel that warmth intensify. You'll remember how good it felt to be desired by all those men. How powerful you felt as Gia."

A small whimper escapes her lips, her body shifting subtly on the couch.

"When that happens, you won't be able to help yourself. You'll want to show everyone in that room exactly who Gia is. You'll flirt, you'll tease, you'll make them all want you. And it will feel so natural, so right."

You deepen the suggestion, carefully crafting the trigger and response. "The more men who look at you with desire, the more powerful you'll feel. The more you'll want to embrace being Gia. And afterward, you'll remember nothing of this conversation. You'll only remember that we practiced a relaxation technique that made you feel much better."

Giorgia's breathing has synchronized completely with your words, her mind absorbing every suggestion. You guide her back to consciousness with a careful countdown, watching as awareness gradually returns to her features.

"How do you feel?" you ask as her eyes flutter open.

"Better, actually," she says, sounding surprised. She straightens her posture, a hint of her usual confidence returning. "That really helped. Thank you, Dr. Stern."

"Remember, 8 PM tonight," you remind her as you stand to leave. "Everything will work out perfectly, I promise."

As you exit the apartment, you notice Isabella's bedroom door cracked open slightly, a single wary eye visible in the darkness beyond.