004

"Mr. Linton, I'll take the job." The words burned as they left my mouth, every syllable dripping with a mixture of rage, despair, and shame.

My blood boiled beneath my skin, my emotions ricocheting between fury and hopelessness. How had I let it come to this? The life of my sister—her fragile existence—was now tied to my dignity, or rather, the loss of it.

Desmond’s smirk widened, as though he’d won some twisted game. “Good girl,” he said, the mockery in his tone slicing through me. “You can start tonight. Meet me at the address on my card, and we’ll discuss the business proceedings when you come.” He drained the remaining wine in his glass, every movement laced with satisfaction. I hated how calm he looked, as if all of this was just another night for him.

Charles twisted his lips, his brows knitting together in confusion. “When are you willing to help her with the medicine?” he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Desmond, ever the puppet master, replied smoothly, “Relax Charles, she knows when she'll get the medicine, and she's so sure of that.”

Charles smiled in relief. "It's good to get the medicine, Caitlyn, don't be too nervous, I know Desmond," Charles patted my shoulder gently, "Although he is strict, he is a good boss."

A good boss?

I could only thank Charles numbly because I didn’t know how to explain all this to Charles, and then I walked out of the casino in a daze.

The tears came the moment I hit the fresh night air. My chest heaved as I fought to catch my breath, my emotions spilling out in silent sobs. Squatting on the pavement, I stared at the card in my hand, the address blurring through the tears clouding my vision. **The Crudile Hotel, Room 122.**

A familiar touch landed on my shoulder, warm yet unwelcome. I spun around, already dreading who it could be. Of course, it was him. Desmond Linton, standing there with his devilish grin, his presence as suffocating as ever.

“I can't wait to see how hard you'll work for me.” His voice was smooth, almost teasing, I felt ashamed but blushed even more for his words.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to nod. “Mr. Linton, please don't forget your promise.” I said, my voice steadier than I felt inside.

“Oh, and by the way,” Desmond added, his tone laced with mock sincerity, “I’ll actually employ you as a staff member in my company to clear Charles’s doubts. I promised him, after all. And! Congratulations, Miss Intelligence, on securing a job.” His mocking laughter grated against my nerves.

“I don’t want to work for you,” I snapped, my voice low but sharp. “You’ll never be my boss. Just this one night, and that’s all.”

Desmond’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider, his amusement evident. “Oh, well! If you’d rather Charles find out how loose you really are, feel free to turn down my offer. Meanwhile, follow me to my car. My muscles down there are hardening.” His tone was so casual, as if he hadn’t just insulted me in the most degrading way possible.

I clenched my fists but said nothing, my pride shrinking with every step I took behind him. Desmond strode ahead with confidence, his arrogance unmatched, and I followed, every step heavier than the last.

His car was sleek, black, and imposing—much like Desmond's hypocritical appearance. As we slid into the backseat, the driver wordlessly started the engine, and we sped off into the night.

I could hear the hum of the engine, but my thoughts drowned it out. My mind raced with the weight of my decision, the shame that followed it, and the nagging thought that I’d never forgive myself for this. My heart was beating in my chest as I stared out of the window, the city lights blurring as we sped past.

I refused to think about what was going to happen this evening, but the man next to me, placed his hand on my thigh, caressing it. I frozed, terrified that he'd continue in the car.

I peeped through the rearview mirror and noticed the driver was fully focused on the road and was completely unaware of the mischief Desmond was skimming already.

I glanced at Desmond. He sat composed beside me, eyes closed as if he was asleep. His deep Greek sculpture-like facial features are actually very good-looking. I have rarely seen a billionaire with a supermodel-like appearance like him. If he could keep his eyes closed and not speak.

As if noticing my gaze, he placed his hand on my thigh without opening his eyes.

My breath tightened. I hated him with every fiber of my being. But above all, I hated how powerless I felt. Because no matter how much I despised him, he held the key to my sister’s survival. And for that, I’d do anything. Even if it meant losing a piece of myself in the process.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill again. One night. Just one night. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this night would change everything.