Scarlett' POV

Cold, so cold!

I opened my eyes and immediately wrapped my arms around myself.

My vision blurred for a few seconds before gradually clearing.

Where am I?

This isn't that moldy rental in Queens County!

Fragmented memories slowly surfaced in my mind.

Milk, bedsheets, his strong and powerful palms pressed against my waist, the veiny 8-inch cock that had ruthlessly penetrated me...

My throat felt itchy and dry. I coughed for several minutes before stopping.

Looking down, my bathrobe hung open. My breasts were red and swollen, my chest covered in dried milky-white traces.

My clit was swollen too, and my entire body was covered with crisscrossing purple and blue fingerprints.

The area between my thighs ached. I tried to bring my knees together, but they disobediently fell open to the sides.

Then I felt the hair from my lower abdomen to my groin—wet and sticky!

God, how many times did he come last night?

Lorenzo stood by the bed, his slender fingers toying with an empty Waterford crystal glass.

"Awake?"

I blinked my sore eyes, my hand reaching for the sheet by my feet. I yanked it up to my chest, covering my bare breasts.

Last night... did he fuck me unconscious?

Scarlett, you're pathetic!

No, don't think about it, stop!

You endured all this just for money. Get the money and you can leave this hellhole immediately!

"Lorenzo... sir." I opened my mouth, my voice frighteningly hoarse. "The money—can I have it now?"

He didn't answer, turning toward the walk-in closet instead.

I forced myself through the discomfort and got up to follow him.

My bare feet touched the cold marble floor—freezing and bone-chilling. The soles of my feet were almost numb.

The air conditioning here was set too low. I instantly broke out in goosebumps.

He didn't seem to care at all, stripping off his bathrobe right in front of me, his naked body exposed to the air.

Standing there proudly with his waist thrust forward, his half-erect cock—still reeking of that musky smell—swung back and forth before my eyes.

He just stood there like that, making no move to put on any clothes for a long time.

What kind of problem is this?

Rich people's brains really are wired differently from ours.

I took a deep breath and walked to the full-length mirror.

"Please give me the eighteen thousand dollars. I'll leave right away and won't bother you again."

"You said eighteen thousand, but I never agreed to it."

I felt all the blood in my body stop flowing.

"You... you said it! You said it yourself! Eighteen thousand for one night—"

"I said eighteen thousand for one night."

He bent down and opened a drawer, pulling out a pair of black boxer briefs.

"But when did I say I'd give you that eighteen thousand?"

I opened my mouth but couldn't speak for a long moment.

Thinking carefully, he really hadn't mentioned the deal.

"You... you did it on purpose!" I let out a sharp, angry shout. "You're playing me!"

Lorenzo leisurely put on his underwear, hooking his finger under the elastic waistband, pulling it out and releasing it.

Snap!

His two bulging sacks bounced along with it.

I couldn't help but remember how those two sacks had slapped frantically against my buttocks while he fucked me last night.

"Eighteen thousand a night—that's the price for the most skilled call girls in the top clubs."

"You took off your own clothes, you climbed into bed yourself. From start to finish, I never forced you to do anything."

My eyes instantly burned.

Don't cry, Scarlett!

You can't shed tears in front of this asshole. That'll only make him more smug and make you look cheaper!

But the tears wouldn't obey. They fell in large drops.

I tore up all my dignity and let a nineteen-year-old punk humiliate me all night, and I'm not getting a single cent?

"What kind of man are you?" I grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and hit him with it again and again.

"You won't even pay for sex—you're the most despicable con artist in all of New York!"

Lorenzo's expression didn't change at all.

He pulled out his wallet from the closet and pinched out a few bills with his thumb and forefinger.

Three, no—four hundred-dollar bills, tossed at my feet.

"Your performance was terrible."

A cruel arc formed at the corner of his lips, revealing two sharp canine teeth.

"Old, dry and rough inside, screaming worse than a female donkey, can't even fake pleasure. As an employer, my experience was absolutely terrible."

"I reminded you how many times not to cry, but you still cried all night!"

"Tell me yourself—are you worth eighteen thousand?"

"This four hundred is only because your tits aren't bad. I'm giving it to you out of charity."

Yes, everything he said was true.

But I had already hollowed out my flesh and blood and given my all!

I wiped my face hard and flipped him the middle finger.

"You know what, Lorenzo? You're the worst fucking stud I've ever seen!"

With that, I turned to leave.

Let it all burn, world!

I'd rather die with my daughter than suffer this humiliation anymore!

But could I really do that?

The moment I turned around, Mia and Nina's chubby little faces floated before my eyes.

If I didn't pay off the debt today, they'd be transferred out of the PICU.

What would that mean?

At just over two months old, they could die at any moment.

"Since you're somewhat interesting, I'll forgive your offense just now."

Lorenzo's lazy voice came from behind me. "I can give you a long-term opportunity."

My footsteps stopped.

"Sign an employment agreement with me. Two to three times a week, paid monthly. Stable income."

My instinct was to refuse.

"No, I'm not a call girl. I only did this because I desperately needed money—"

"Three thousand dollars per session."

Lorenzo walked in front of me. I had to tilt my head back to see his face.

He was only nineteen, but that sense of oppression made it hard to breathe!

"Don't rush to refuse. I'm going to take a shower. These ten-plus minutes should be enough for you to think it through."

I stood there in a daze, my head buzzing.

Even at the minimum of twice a week, that's over twenty thousand a month; if it's three times, that's thirty-six thousand.

For Mia and Nina's heart surgery, after applying for medical assistance, I'd only need to pay thirty to forty thousand.

If I had this much money every month, I could save up for their surgery in two months!

"Can you... go a little higher?"

Scarlett, what are you doing?

What if he tricks you again?

Rich people are more cunning than foxes—you absolutely can't trust them!

Lorenzo looked down at me from above.

My swollen, pale face reflected in his light brown pupils, trembling uncontrollably.

"First, your attitude is terrible. Second, your technique needs training. Third..."

"You're not my first choice. You're not qualified to negotiate price with me."

I bit my lip. "I think you're just scamming me, pervert!"

Lorenzo let out a displeased snort and threw out a stack of signed blank checks from the drawer.

"What the hell are you that I'd waste my effort to scam you?"

I clenched my fists, my knuckles cracking.

"Three thousand five hundred. I'll sign right now! And I... this is my first time doing this kind of thing. I can learn."

"My technique in the future... will definitely get better and better!"

"Two thousand five hundred." Lorenzo reached out and pinched my chin, his thumb rubbing heavily against the soft flesh below my lips.

"You just argued with me. Bad attitude. Five hundred deducted."

"You—!"

"Two thousand."

I bit my tongue, picked up all the money by my feet, with a desperate determination.

"Fine, three thousand is three thousand. I agree!"