Chapter 7 The Debt Agreement

While I stewed over how I would pay the enormous bill Jeremy had saddled me with, my eyes fixed on the masked figure sitting on the couch.

Why should he get to live so comfortably when he'd ruined my life?

With newfound conviction, I spoke up. "You bastard! Look at me now—half of this is your fault. You need to take responsibility!"

"What did you just call me?" His voice remained calm despite my outburst.

"Bastard. Don't like it? I've got others—how about 'damn male escort'? You owe me compensation. Someone in your line of work must make good money, right?"

I needed money desperately, and I had to maintain the upper hand. If I couldn't intimidate him now, I wouldn't get a cent out of him.

The masked man flashed a cold smile. "How much? Name your price."

He leaned back against the couch, appearing completely unruffled.

I stared at his muscled torso, momentarily distracted, then held up five fingers.

"Five hundred million dollars?" He raised an eyebrow.

I let out a scornful laugh. "If you could give me five hundred million, I'd do anything you ask."

"I don't care how much you make in a month, but from now on, two-thirds of your wages go to me as compensation for raping me."

I figured since I'd had his child—children, in fact—asking him for money wasn't unreasonable.

Originally, I'd planned to demand half his earnings, but I worried he might try to negotiate. Starting higher gave me room to compromise.

If he didn't haggle, all the better.

That money would do more good with me than being wasted by him anyway.

"I slept with you once, and now you want to entangle me for life? Don't tell me you're hoping for marriage?" His tone was mocking.

My face flushed briefly. The thought had crossed my mind for a split second, but I quickly regained my composure. A male escort would undoubtedly have a messy personal life, probably riddled with STDs.

If he infected me or, worse, my children, I'd regret it forever.

Thinking this through, I changed my approach. "Six months. For six months, you give me half your monthly earnings. That's fair, isn't it?"

"Money isn't the issue, but I'm curious about your audacity in demanding it. Haven't you had other men in your life?" His eyes studied me intently.

"Do I look like someone who sleeps around? You're the only man I've ever been with. Even my fiancé—I had decided to wait until our wedding night, and then you came along and ruined everything."

My mood darkened as I spoke. Life rarely goes as planned. One chance encounter had left me with consequences I'd have to bear forever.

I noticed he smiled.

I couldn't fathom what he found amusing, but I pulled out a pen and paper, quickly drafting a promissory note. I handed it to him.

"Look this over. It clearly states that for six months, you'll give me half your wages. Just sign it, and we have a deal."

He didn't hesitate, signing his name with clean, decisive strokes.

I took back the paper and examined it. So his name was Raven Kane.

Still feeling uncertain about the agreement, I grabbed his hand, intending to draw blood for a fingerprint. Then, remembering potential health risks, I used a fruit knife to prick his finger instead, pressing his bloodied fingertip onto the paper.

"You're quite ruthless, aren't you?" Raven remarked, eyebrow raised.

I ignored his comment and tucked the note away with satisfaction. "From today forward, I'm your creditor. Serve your clients well, earn plenty, and pay your debt. If you slack off, I'll complain to your manager."

"Let's exchange contact information to keep in touch."

As he spoke, I recorded his number, labeling it "Bastard Raven" in my contacts.

I gave him my bank account details, instructing him to deposit money punctually each month.

Raven raised an eyebrow. "You should know that our base salary isn't high. Most of our income comes from daily tips. When clients are satisfied, they can be quite generous."

I hadn't known this—he didn't have to tell me. But I quickly adjusted my terms.

"Then we'll settle daily! From now on, transfer half of what you earn to me by 10 PM every night."

Raven smiled again. "The only client I had tonight just got chased away by you. Perhaps I should compensate you with my body instead?"

"No thanks. I have germophobia. I'm disgusted by—" I suddenly realized my tactlessness. "That's not what I meant. I didn't mean to look down on you. I just—"

Thankfully, my phone rang, providing a welcome interruption.

When I saw the number, however, my gratitude vanished.

I answered and immediately unleashed my fury. "I quit! I didn't order any of that! Go to hell!"

I hung up and collapsed onto the couch, rubbing my temples in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Raven asked.

I couldn't help but complain. "This is all your fault. I can't even hold down a job, and just when I found one, someone had to sabotage me."

Raven's expression shifted slightly. "Someone at Skyline Group is bullying you?"

"Like you'd understand. Hey, you work here—can you sign off on checks, right?"

When he nodded, I continued eagerly, "Great! Could you please sign for Room 301's bill? Please?"

"How much are we talking about?" He seemed cautious.

I hesitated, embarrassed. "Around two hundred thousand dollars, maybe?"

"You think I'm made of money?" His tone was incredulous.

"Please help me," I pleaded. "I'll help you pay it back. I can't lose this job—I'm so broke I can barely afford food."

Eventually, Raven agreed to sign for the bill.

For the first time, I thought that perhaps he wasn't such a bad person. In his position, I'm not sure I would have done the same.

A wave of guilt washed over me for having judged him so harshly.

Raven received a phone call—seemingly a new client. Not wanting to interfere with his income-earning potential, I left the room and returned to 301.

When I arrived, the group seemed surprised to see me.

"I've taken care of the bill. Are you all having a good time?" I announced with forced cheerfulness.

"Yes, of course," came the collective response.

Someone asked incredulously, "Two hundred thousand dollars? You have that kind of money?"

"I've maxed out several credit cards, and I'll probably be skipping meals for a while, but as long as you're all happy," I replied, noticing several guilty expressions forming.

Jeremy interjected, "Don't be so modest. The rich Aviah wouldn't miss such a trivial sum. That wouldn't even buy one of your handbags in the old days."

I ignored him and focused on seeing my colleagues out one by one.

After everyone had left, Jeremy approached me again. "Surprising that you actually paid. But this is just the beginning. How long can you keep this up? Sleep with me once, and I'll handle everything for you."

I stared at him with disgust. "Want me to call that man back to beat you again? I may not know him well, but I doubt he'd mind playing the hero one more time."

Jeremy gave me a sinister look before finally turning to leave.