002

I held back my trembling at his humiliation, as my sister's weakened figure was also imprinted firmly in my mind. "Mr. Linton, you misunderstood me. I'm here to buy medicine and not for anything else."

Desmond raised an eyebrow, and clenched his jaw, his eyes glinting with a pain that looked familiar. "Is it? But I don't see you having anything worth exchanging." He spatted after sipping his wine, then turned, walking back toward the bustling casino.

My heart thudded in my chest as I watched him go. The image of my sister, frail and helpless, flashed in my mind. I couldn’t let my pride get in the way—not when her life was hanging by a thread. Swallowing my anger, I hurried after him, my boots magnifying my speed.

"Mr Linton, please," I said, my voice trembling as I caught up to him. "Just listen to me."

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me with a look that was both amused and predatory. He leaned in slightly, as if savoring my desperation.

"My sister is dying," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "I’ll do anything—just help me with the medicine."

He tilted his head, his piercing gaze never leaving mine. "Your sister isn't the only one suffering," he said, each word deliberate and cruel. "And the medicine is very, very expensive."

My breath hitched. The way he said it, like he already knew I couldn’t afford it, made my stomach churn. He was right. But Charles’s promise to help me out, was my lifeline. Drawing in a shaky breath, I straightened my shoulders and replied with as much confidence as I could muster.

"The price isn’t an issue," I said firmly.

Desmond’s laughter rang out, sharp and mocking. “Are you back to your old ways, using other people's money to buy drugs? ” he swirled his wine glass lazily, his smirk deepening. "Whoever buys, pays. That's the rule."

For a moment, I was completely lost. The comment seemed so out of place that I froze. But then it clicked, and my face burned with both embarrassment and fury.

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Linton?" I snapped, my voice rising.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, taunting whisper. "You will do the same job, but for me. The only thing you need to do is to please me in bed in every possible way. ."

He thought I was a whore, a gold digger!

My stomach turned, the bile rising in my throat. His smile was pure malice, and I felt my fists clench at my sides.

"To hell with you and your medicines!" I spat, my voice shaking with rage. "I am not your fuck*** toy!" Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I have no idea why he was humiliating me so badly, but if he thought of me like this, because of the deal I made last time, then he's totally wrong.

"How about Charles finding out about your little secret? He told me you are his best friend, but he doesn’t truely know you yet, right?" He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I froze, my heart sinking into my stomach. He is far more cruel than I thought.

Desmond’s words were slow, deliberate, and dripping with venom. "That night two years ago, when you sold your virginity for money—I wonder how Charles would feel about that."

The tears I’d fought so hard to hold back spilled down my cheeks. My chest felt like it was caving in as the weight of his threat hit me. Charles was my only lifeline, my only ally. If he found out, he’d be disgusted, disappointed... and he’d tell my mother.

"I wonder," Desmond continued, his smirk widening, "how Charles would feel knowing his trusted little best friend is nothing but a cheap whore." He gulped his wine, let out a mocking laughter, and turned as if to leave. "Anyway, let me go find out."

"Wait!" I yelled, the word tearing from my throat as I spun back around. My tears were streaming now, unstoppable. "Let’s talk about this!"

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder with a look of smug satisfaction.

"Mr. Linton," I said, trying to steady my voice. "It was a mistake, I was not as you thought I have a college degree and working experience—I was the mastermind behind the discovery of—"

He cut me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "These can all be offered with money.," he said coldly. "You have nothing to offer me—nothing except your body."

The humiliation hit me like a punch to the gut. His words weren’t just cruel—they were calculated, designed to strip me of any dignity I had left.

"I hate standing out here with you," he added, pulling a sleek card from his pocket. He flicked it at me, and it hit my chest before falling to the ground. "The life of your sister is in your hands. You know what to do."

Before I could respond, he turned and walked away, his steps slow and confident.

I stood there, staring at the card lying at my feet, my vision blurred by tears. Anger, shame, and despair warred within me, each emotion crashing over the other. My sister’s life depended on a man who saw me as nothing more than a commodity.

The shrill buzz of my phone snapped me out of my thoughts, cutting through the heavy silence. I wiped my tears with trembling hands and picked up the card before answering the call.