24-year-old Brazilian influencer Isabella Costa died of cardiac arrest after Sheikh Khaled Al-Zedi strangled her with his hands during a game at a private party in a penthouse in the Burj Khalifa Tower in Dubai, and her body was cremated 12 hours later with a false conclusion of drug overdose.
Isabella Costa was born in Belo Horizonte, Minas Gerais, on March 23rd, 2001. The family lived in the working-class neighborhood of Barreiro on the outskirts of the city. Her father, Marco Costa, worked as a car mechanic in a small workshop. His salary was about 800 reais per month, which was equivalent to approximately $160. Her mother, Maria Silva, worked as a saleswoman in a supermarket. Her salary was slightly less, 700 reais. Isabella had a younger brother, Carlos, who was 3 years younger. The family lived in a small two-bedroom house. The neighborhood was unsafe. There was a high crime rate, drug dealing, and gangs. Her parents tried to protect their children from the streets. Isabella attended a public school. School came easily to her, but she stood out from the others. From an early age, it was clear that she was a beautiful girl. She was tall for her age, slim with regular features, large brown eyes, and long dark hair. At 14, her classmates began to say that Isabella should become a model. Her teacher advised her mother to send her to modeling school, but the family did not have the money for such things. Isabella continued to study at a regular school. She graduated in 2018. She wanted to go to university, but her grades weren’t high enough to get a free place. Tuition fees were 3,000 reais per semester. The family couldn’t afford it. Isabella got a job as a cashier at the supermarket where her mother worked. The salary was 1,000 reais per month. She worked full-time, 6 days a week. She saved money, dreaming of moving to São Paulo. There were modeling agencies there, and she could try to start a career. At 19, she had saved 3,000 reais. She told her parents that she was going to the state capital to seek a better life. Her father was against it, saying that the big city was dangerous for a young girl. Her mother supported her. She said that Isabella should try, otherwise she would regret it for the rest of her life.
In August 2020, Isabella moved to São Paulo. She rented a room in the Mooca district from an elderly woman for 400 reais a month. The room was small, 8 square meters, with a shared bathroom with the landlady, but the neighborhood was decent, close to the subway. Isabella began visiting modeling agencies. She carried printed photos with her that her friends had taken on their phones in Belo Horizonte. She did not have a professional portfolio. The first few months were difficult. Most agencies rejected her immediately. They said that Isabella was beautiful, but not tall enough to be a runway model. She was 172 cm tall. For the runway, you need to be at least 175 cm tall. They offered her work at promotional events, handing out flyers, working as a promoter. They paid 50 to 70 reais per day of work. Isabella agreed to everything. At the same time, she started developing her Instagram account. She had created a profile back in Belo Horizonte, but only started taking it seriously in São Paulo. She posted photos everyday, selfies, photos in shopping malls, on city streets, in parks. She used popular hashtags. She subscribed to other influencers, commented on their posts, and tried to attract attention. Her followers grew slowly. In the first 3 months, she gained 2,000. In November 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic hit Brazil hard. Lockdowns, business closures, job losses. Promotions were cancelled. Isabella’s income dropped to zero. She ran out of money for rent. The landlord gave her a month’s grace period. Isabella called home and asked for help. But her parents had lost their jobs, too. Her father had no orders and his workshop was closed. Her mother was sent on unpaid leave. Isabella realized that she needed to find other ways to earn money. Instagram was her only resource. She already had 5,000 followers. She began posting more revealing photos in lingerie, swimsuits, tight-fitting clothes. Her followers began to grow faster. 3,000 were added in a month. The first offers from small brands appeared. Advertisements for sportswear and cosmetics. They paid 200 to 300 reais per post. This helped her get through the first months of the pandemic. By mid-2021, restrictions began to ease. Isabella returned to promotional work, but her main income now came from Instagram. She had 20,000 followers. Advertising posts brought in 1,000 to 1,500 reais per month. This was enough for rent, food, and basic expenses.
Isabella created the image of a successful girl. She took photos in expensive places that didn’t cost her any money. She would take photos in the public areas of luxury hotels and restaurants where she only ordered coffee but pretended to be having dinner. She would borrow clothes from friends or rent them for a few hours for photoshoots. Her followers believed her image. The comments were full of admiration. Girls asked her how she had achieved such success. Guys wrote compliments. Isabella responded to comments and kept in touch with her audience. This helped her grow. By the end of 2021, she had 50,000 followers. In 2022, Isabella began receiving offers from larger brands, cosmetics companies, sportswear manufacturers, fitness apps. They paid $5,000 to $10,000 for an advertising campaign of 3 to 5 posts. Her annual income grew to $20,000. That was good money for Brazil. Isabella moved into a better apartment, a studio in the Vila Mariana neighborhood for 1,200 reais a month. She started sending money to her parents, $200 to $300 every month. Her parents were grateful. Her father found a new job, but the salary was less than before. By 2023, she had 200,000 followers. Isabella was considered a micro-influencer. She was invited to brand events, store openings, and fashion shows. She met other influencers. She learned that many of them earned much more, not only from advertising, but also from other things. Some girls mentioned private parties for rich men. They didn’t say directly what happened there, but they hinted that you could earn tens of thousands of dollars in one night. Isabella knew about the existence of escort services. Some of her friends worked in this field. They said that wealthy businessmen from Europe and the Middle East paid a lot of money for companionship at events and intimate services. Isabella had never considered it for herself. But when she heard about the amounts, she thought about it. $100,000 for one night. It would change her whole life. She could buy an apartment in a good neighborhood, provide for her parents, invest in her career. In December 2024, she had 400,000 subscribers. Isabella earned 5,000 to 7,000 reais a month from advertising. It was good money, but she wanted more. She saw other influencers with millions of followers. She saw their luxurious lives. She wanted the same.
On January 15th, 2025, Isabella received a private message on Instagram. The sender was an account called Dubai Elite Events. The profile looked professional. It had a verified check mark, 20,000 followers, photos of luxurious parties, yachts, penthouses. The description stated that the company organizes exclusive events for VIP clients in Dubai. The message was personalized. It began with a compliment about her account. The company representative wrote that he had seen her profile and thought she was perfect for their event: a private party in Dubai for a group of investors from the Persian Gulf countries. The date was February 28th. They were looking for nine girls from different countries. Requirements: Age 20 to 30. Attractive appearance. At least 100,000 followers on social media. Willingness to fulfill client requests. Payment of $100,000 for the evening. All expenses covered. Business class tickets, accommodation in a five-star hotel, meals. Isabella reread the message several times. $100,000. The amount was incredible. She knew that such offers usually involved more than just attending a party. But was she ready? She replied, asking for more details. The company representative responded quickly. He explained that the clients were very wealthy and influential people. They wanted a private party with beautiful girls. Expectations included company, entertainment, and fulfilling wishes. Details would be discussed on site. A mandatory condition was signing a non-disclosure agreement. Everything that happened at the party would remain confidential. Violation of the agreement would result in legal consequences and a fine of $500,000.
Isabella asked a direct question: “Does this include intimate services?”
The representative responded evasively. He said: “The girls should be open to the wishes of the clients. Some wishes may be of an intimate nature, but everything takes place in a safe environment with complete respect. If a girl is not comfortable with something specific, boundaries can be discussed in advance.”
Isabella hesitated for a week. She discussed it with her friend Lana, who was also an influencer. Lana said she had heard about such parties from other girls. Some returned with money and traumatic experiences. They said that the client’s demands were extreme: humiliation, violence, things that no amount of money could compensate for, but some said that everything went well. Just escort services, nothing unusual. Lana advised Isabella to think carefully. $100,000 is a lot of money, but the risk might be too high. Isabella thought about it for three more days. She looked at her life. A room for 1,200 reais. An income that could stop at any moment if Instagram’s algorithms changed. Parents who live in poverty, a brother who wants to go to university but has no money. $100,000 would solve all her problems. One night, you can survive anything for that kind of money. On January 22nd, Isabella replied to the company representative. She wrote that she agreed to participate. She asked for details and a non-disclosure agreement. The representative replied within an hour. He sent the contract in English. 10 pages of legal text. Isabella read it carefully. The main points: The participant agrees to attend a private event on February 28th in Dubai to comply with the reasonable requirements of the organizers and clients, to maintain complete confidentiality about the event and participants, not to take photos or videos without permission, and not to disclose information to third parties. Violation will result in a fine of $500,000 and possible criminal prosecution under UAE law. Payment of $100,000 in cash at the end of the event, provided all obligations are fulfilled. Isabella signed with an electronic signature. She sent a scan of her passport. 2 days later, she received an e-ticket for a flight from São Paulo to Dubai on February 27th. Business class Emirates Airline, return ticket for March 2. She also received confirmation of a reservation at the Atlantis the Palm Hotel for five nights. Isabella began to prepare. She bought new evening dresses, shoes, and cosmetics. She spent $2,000 on her wardrobe. She had treatments at a beauty salon, manicure, pedicure, waxing, hair styling. She told her parents that she was flying to Dubai for a promotional photo shoot. A major brand had invited her for a photo shoot. Her parents were happy. Her mother said she was proud of her daughter. Her father warned her to be careful in a foreign country.
On February 27th, Isabella arrived at Dubai airport. She passed through passport control without any problems. A driver with a sign reading “Isabella Costa” was waiting in the arrivals area. He was a man in his 40s of Indian appearance wearing a black suit. He introduced himself as Rajesh, an employee of Dubai Elite Events. He took her suitcase and led her to a black Mercedes S-Class. The trip to the hotel took 30 minutes. The Atlantis The Palm Hotel is located on the artificial island of Palm Jumeirah. It is a luxurious resort with 1,500 rooms, a water park, a dolphinarium, and many restaurants. Isabella was given a room on the 20th floor with a view of the Persian Gulf. The room was huge, 50 m². It had a king-size bed, a living area, and a marble bathroom with a jacuzzi. Isabella spent the rest of the day relaxing. After her flight, she walked around the hotel grounds and took photos for Instagram. She posted a photo with the caption, “Dubai, I’m here.” She received thousands of likes and comments. Her followers wrote that they envied her, that she was lucky. Isabella smiled as she read the comments. If only they knew the truth. If only they knew why she was really here. On the evening of February 27th, she received a message from the event coordinator. The man introduced himself as James. He wrote that a car would pick her up at 9:00 p.m. tomorrow. It would take her to the party venue. Dress code: evening gown, elegant makeup, hairstyle, no cell phones, leave them at the hotel. The event would last until morning. She would return to the hotel around 7 or 8:00 a.m. on March 2nd.
Isabella replied: “I understand.” She asked: “Can I find out more about what would be happening?”
James replied: “All the details would be explained on site. It would be best to come with an open mind and a willingness to try new experiences. Everything would be comfortable and safe. There was no need to worry.”
On February 28th, Isabella spent the day at the hotel spa: massage, facial, hair styling. She returned to her room at 6:00 in the evening. She began to get ready. She chose a black form-fitting knee-length dress, high-heeled shoes. She applied her makeup carefully. She emphasized her eyes and painted her lips bright red. She styled her hair in curls. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked beautiful. She was ready for anything for $100,000. At 9:00 p.m., she went down to the hotel lobby. The same Mercedes was waiting there. Rajesh opened the door. Isabella got in. They drove through the city. The trip took 20 minutes. They stopped at the foot of the Burj Khalifa Tower, the tallest building in the world, 828 m. Rajesh led Isabella to the service entrance. They took the elevator. There was only one button, number 14, the penthouse at the very top. The elevator opened directly into a huge living room. The interior was luxurious: white marble floors, high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows overlooking the whole of Dubai. The furniture was designer and modern. There was a bar with hundreds of bottles of expensive alcohol. Soft lounge music was playing. There were already other girls in the living room. Isabella counted eight, all about her age, beautiful in evening dresses.
She approached and introduced herself: “Hi, I’m Isabella.”
The girls introduced themselves too: two Russians, Anna and Ekatarina. Two Ukrainians, Oksana and Irena, Valyria from Colombia, Lucia from Argentina, two Romanians, Alina and Maria. All influencers with a large number of followers from 100,000 to 500,000. We started talking. It turned out that everyone had been made the same offer: $100,000 for the evening, complete confidentiality, fulfillment of clients’ wishes. Some of the girls were here for the first time, like Isabella. Others had participated in similar parties before. Anna, a Russian from Moscow, said that this was her third time. The first two were in Dubai. She warned: “It will be difficult. Clients at such parties expect a lot, not just sex, extreme things, humiliation, but if you want money, you have to put up with it. I had already earned $200,000 at the two previous parties. I plan to buy an apartment in Moscow after this one.”
Valyria from Colombia was also experienced. She said: “I have participated in five such events in Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Riyadh. The clients are always the same types. Rich, middle-aged Arabs. They pay for power, for the opportunity to do whatever they want with women. I learned to turn off my emotions, to imagine that it wasn’t happening to her. That made it easier to get through.”
The other girls were scared, especially Maria from Romania. She was only 21. It was her first time at such a party. She cried and said: “I want to leave.”
Anna said: “It’s too late. If you leave, you won’t get your money. What’s more, they could deport you and put you on a blacklist. You’ll never get into the UAE again. It’s better to stay, get through it, and get your money.”
At 9:30 p.m., a man in his 40s entered the penthouse. He was European in appearance, tall, wearing an expensive dark blue suit. He had light, closely cropped hair and blue eyes. He spoke English with a British accent. He introduced himself as James, the event coordinator. He asked the girls to come closer and sit on the sofas in the living room. James began to explain. He spoke calmly and professionally as if it were a normal business meeting. Five clients would be visiting the penthouse that evening. They were very wealthy and influential people from the Persian Gulf countries. They had paid a lot of money for this event to be organized: $200,000 each, a total of $1 million. Of this amount, $900,000 goes to the girls, $100,000 each. The rest covers the costs of organization, security, and confidentiality. The clients expect full service. This means fulfilling all their requirements without exception. Any wishes, any fantasies, the girls must be ready for anything. Refusal to fulfill a request means a breach of contract. In this case, the girl is immediately removed from the event, deported from the country without payment, and without compensation for expenses. Her name is also blacklisted by organizers of similar events throughout the Persian Gulf. This means that she will never be able to receive such an offer again. If everything goes well and the clients are satisfied, each girl will receive $100,000 in cash at the end of the event. The money will be given in US dollars in large bills. It can be taken with you or transferred to a bank account. The event will last until about 6:00 or 7 in the morning. After that, the girls will be taken to their hotels. The rest of the day is free. Return tickets are for the 2nd or 3rd of March.
Oksana, one of the Ukrainian women, raised her hand. She asked: “What exactly was meant by any requests? Could there be requests that cause pain or humiliation?”
James looked at her intently. He replied: “Clients could ask for many things. Some things might be uncomfortable or humiliating, but physical harm was out of the question. If any of the clients tried to cause serious physical harm, security would intervene. But psychological discomfort and moderate pain could be part of the process. If a girl was not ready for that, it would be better to leave now.”
No one left. The girls looked at each other. Maria from Romania cried quietly, but remained seated. James nodded. He said he was glad to see their willingness to cooperate. He asked them to hand over all their cell phones to put them in the box he had brought. The phones would be returned in the morning. This was necessary for confidentiality. No photos, videos, or recordings during the event. The girls took out their phones and put them in the box. Isabella looked at the screen one last time. Messages from her mother and her friend Lana. They asked how things were going in Dubai. Isabella did not reply. She put her phone in the box. James closed it and took it to another room. He returned a few minutes later. He said that the clients would arrive in 30 minutes. The girls could get drinks from the bar and relax. James turned up the music. Modern electronic lounge music. Some of the girls went to the bar. Anna from Russia poured herself a whiskey. She drank it in one gulp. She said: “Alcohol helps.”
Isabella poured herself a drink, too. Vodka and juice. She drank it slowly. She felt warmth in her chest. Her nerves calmed down a little. The girls stood by the panoramic windows looking at Dubai. The city sparkled with lights. Skyscraper towers stretched into the night sky. Artificial islands in the shape of palm trees were clearly visible. Isabella thought about what a strange world it was. Down below, millions of people lived ordinary lives. And up here, nine girls were selling themselves for money to rich men. No one down below knew. No one would ever find out.
At 10:00, the elevator doors opened. Five men entered. All were dressed in traditional white robes and white skull caps on their heads. They were of different ages. One looked about 45, the others between 50 and 60. All were well-groomed, smelling of expensive perfume. They moved confidently, like people accustomed to power and money. James greeted them and shook their hands. He led them into the living room and introduced the girls. He did not give the clients full names, only their first names: Khaled, Sultan, Abdullah, Muhammad, and Faisal. The clients sat down on large sofas. They looked at the girls with appraising glances. They talked among themselves in Arabic. Khaled, the oldest, about 60 years old, signaled to James. James leaned over and Khaled whispered something in his ear. James nodded. He went to the bar, poured whiskey into five large glasses. He brought them to the customers. Then he poured champagne into crystal flutes for the girls. He handed them out. Khaled raised his glass. He made a toast in English. He said he was glad to see such beautiful girls, that today would be an unforgettable evening, that they would all get what they paid for. The clients laughed and raised their glasses. The girls raised theirs, too. They drank the champagne. Isabella felt a growing sense of unease. There was something threatening in Khaled’s tone. The next two hours passed relatively normally. The clients drank and talked among themselves. They asked the girls to sit next to them and dance. They turned on loud music. The girls danced in front of them. The clients made comments, asked them to take off their shoes and unbutton their dresses. The girls obeyed. Isabella danced mechanically. She tried not to think about what was happening. She concentrated on the thought of $100,000.
Around midnight, Sultan, one of the clients in his 50s, called over Ekatarina, a Russian girl. He asked her to sit on his lap. She sat down. He hugged her, kissed her neck, and groped her. Ekatarina smiled, pretending she liked it. Other clients also began to choose girls. Muhammad called Valyria over. Faisal chose Alina. Abdullah took Oksana. Khaled looked at the remaining girls: Isabella, Anna, Irena, Lucia, Maria. His gaze stopped on Maria, the youngest, 21 years old. Khaled beckoned her with a gesture. Maria approached slowly. He sat her down next to him. He started talking to her in English. He asked where she was from, what she did, how much she earned as an influencer. Maria answered quietly, nervously. Khaled put his hand on her knee. He started moving it higher. Maria froze. Khaled laughed. He said something in Arabic to the other clients. Everyone laughed.
At 1:00 in the morning, James left the room. He returned with two large black suitcases. He placed them on the table in the center of the living room. He opened them. The girls came closer to look. Inside were various items: sex toys, handcuffs, ropes, whips, masks. Isabella felt nauseous. What were they going to do with all this? James announced that the special part of the program was about to begin. The clients had paid for an extreme evening. Now there would be various tasks and games. The girls had to participate. Refusal was not an option. Khaled stood up. He approached the table. He took a wad of $100 bills out of his pocket. He put it on the table. He said that there would be additional cash prizes for particularly good performance of the tasks. The first task was simple: Two girls had to undress completely and perform a lesbian scene on the floor in front of the clients. Khaled chose Ekatarina and Irena. Both were Ukrainian. They exchanged glances. Slowly, they began to take off their dresses. They were left in their underwear. The clients shouted, demanding that they continue. The girls took off their underwear. They lay down on the carpet. They began to do what was required of them. The clients filmed them on their phones. They laughed. They commented. 10 minutes later, the task was over. Khaled threw two bills at each of the girls: $200 each. He said it was a good start. The next task would be more interesting. He took a plastic container out of his suitcase. Inside was a yellow liquid, urine. He put it on the table. He poured it into two wine glasses. He said that the two girls had to drink it all. Whoever drank it faster would get $500. Anna from Russia volunteered right away. She said she would do it. Valyria from Colombia also agreed. They both took the glasses. At Khaled’s command, they began to drink. Anna drank it in 20 seconds. Valyria drank it in 30. Both turned pale and felt nauseous, but they held on. Khaled applauded. He gave Anna $500. He gave Valyria $200 for participating. The next two hours were hell. The tasks became increasingly extreme and humiliating. The girls were forced to smear themselves with feces from another container, to perform humiliating acts on each other. At one point, James brought a miniature horse into the room. Isabella couldn’t believe her eyes. The clients demanded that one of the girls perform an act with the animal. Valyria agreed for $2,000. It was the most horrible thing Isabella had ever seen in her life. The clients were euphoric. They drank and snorted cocaine from the coffee table. They shouted and laughed. The girls cried.
Maria sobbed in the corner. Khaled approached her. He grabbed her by the hair. He lifted her face. He asked: “Why are you crying?”
Maria said: “I can’t take it anymore. It was too much.”
Khaled slapped her across the face. Not hard, but hard enough to hurt. He spoke slowly, syllable by syllable: “You’re not a person here. You’re a thing. We paid for you. You do what you’re told or you leave now with no money and a lot of problems. Choose.”
Maria cried even harder, but she nodded. She said: “I will stay.”
Khaled let her go. He returned to his other clients. Isabella sat on the sofa, hugging her knees. She stared into space. She thought about how to make it through the night. How to survive this. Money no longer seemed so important. She just wanted to leave. But fear was stronger. Fear of being left without money. Fear of the consequences. By 4 in the morning, most of the girls were in shock. They sat or lay on the floor, not moving. The clients continued to drink. White lines of cocaine lay on the table.
Khaled stood up. He clapped his hands. He got everyone’s attention. He announced: “There would be a final game for one girl. The one who was ready to go further than the rest. The prize was $50,000 on top of the main payment. A total of $150,000 for one night.”
The girls looked up. $50,000. A huge amount. Khaled explained the rules: “The game is called choking. He will choke the girl with his hands to the point of unconsciousness. The time will be measured with a stopwatch. Whoever lasts the longest gets the prize. Safety is guaranteed. He has done this many times. He knows when to stop. No one has ever died.”
Anna was the first to agree. She approached Khaled. He stood behind her, his hands wrapped around her neck. He began to press down. Anna stood there enduring it. Her face turned red. After 30 seconds, she waved her arms. Khaled let go. She coughed and gasped for air. The time was 32 seconds. The customers applauded. Ekatarina tried next. She lasted 45 seconds. Valyria lasted a minute and 10 seconds. Oksana lasted a minute and 30 seconds. Khaled strangled each subsequent girl for longer. He enjoyed the process. Other clients placed bets. They shouted and cheered. Isabella watched. She thought about the money. $150,000. It would solve all her problems. An apartment for her parents, college for her brother, a comfortable life for a year. She raised her hand. Her voice trembled.
She said: “I will try. I want to break the record. I am ready to endure longer than anyone else.”
Khaled smiled. He said: “You are brave or stupid. It doesn’t matter. You will get the money if you survive.” He laughed. Isabella approached. She stood in front of him. Khaled stood behind her. His hands wrapped around her neck. Big strong hands. Isabella felt the pressure. She couldn’t breathe. The countdown began. The first 30 seconds were bearable. The pressure was strong, but she could endure it. 40 seconds. Her head began to spin. 50 seconds. Her vision darkened at the edges. 1 minute. Her lungs burned. She wanted to breathe, but there was no air. 1 minute and 10 seconds. My pulse was pounding in my temples. 1 minute and 30 seconds. Oksana’s record was broken. The clients were shouting louder. 1 minute and 40 seconds. My body began to twitch involuntarily. My brain was demanding oxygen. 1 minute and 50 seconds. Isabella tried to wave her arms, the signal to stop, but her arms wouldn’t obey. 2 minutes. Consciousness began to slip away. 2 minutes and 20 seconds. Everything around her became foggy. 2 minutes and 40 seconds. Isabella lost consciousness. Her body went limp. Her arms fell. Khaled held on for another 10 seconds. Then he let go. Isabella fell to the floor. She lay motionless. She wasn’t breathing.
James rushed to her. He knelt down. He checked her pulse on her neck. Nothing. He began to perform indirect heart massage. He shouted: “30 compressions on her chest. Two breaths into her mouth. 30 more compressions.”
One minute of massage. Two minutes. Isabella didn’t respond. James called for help. Anna ran over. She started helping too. Massage. Artificial respiration. 3 minutes. 4. 5. Nothing. Her body remained motionless. Her lips were blue. Her pupils were dilated. Khaled stood nearby. His face was pale. He shouted: “This shouldn’t have happened. It was just a game, just entertainment. She shouldn’t have died.”
The other clients also stood up. Panic set in. Abdullah shouted: “We need to call an ambulance.” Muhammad said: “It is a disaster. We will all end up in prison.”
James took out his phone. He called someone. He spoke quickly, nervously in English. He said: “There has been an accident. Help is needed urgently.”
10 minutes later, the elevator opened. A man in his 60s in a medical uniform entered. He was carrying a black bag. He introduced himself as Dr. Camel. The doctor knelt down next to Isabella’s body. He checked her pulse on her neck, on her wrist. He lifted her eyelid and shone a flashlight into her pupil. He listened to her heart with a stethoscope. He sat up straight. He shook his head. He said: “She is dead. Cardiac arrest due to prolonged asphyxia. 5 minutes of resuscitation had been unsuccessful. The brain had been without oxygen for too long. Even if they had managed to restart her heart, her brain was irreversibly damaged.”
Khaled grabbed the doctor by the sleeve. He shouted: “There must be something you can do! Some kind of medicine, an injection, anything!”
The doctor freed his sleeve. He said calmly: “Nothing can be done. She is dead.”
Now the question was how to solve the problem. James gathered the clients. They stepped aside. They talked quietly. The girls sat on the sofa. They looked at Isabella’s body. Anna cried. Maria sobbed. The rest were in shock. She was one of them. Alive a few minutes ago, now dead because of the game, because of money. 15 minutes later, James returned. He told the girls that the incident would be resolved. They have a procedure for such situations. The doctor has been working with them for a long time. He knows what to do. The body will be disposed of.
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
