Scarlett' POV

My breath suddenly caught, my heart feeling like it had been pricked with a needle.

How did Clara become like this?

"How could you introduce me to prostitution! I told you, no matter how hard life gets, I would never..."

"Is selling your body shameful?" Clara was shaking with anger. "Do you know where the money I gave you when you were pregnant came from?!"

"It came from me getting fucked by countless men at the club!"

"You look down on whores, then do you have the ability to earn clean money?"

"You say you're willing to do anything to save your children—I think you're the most shameless whore under heaven!"

I gripped the phone, and even after she hung up, I couldn't move for a long time.

God... I wronged Clara. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I'm such a useless, pretentious woman!

But what do I do now?

Do I have any other options?

Right, Jack—Jack should have money.

He's the children's father... he has a responsibility to save them!

I flagged down a beat-up taxi and headed straight to the old apartment in Queens County.

The stairwell reeked of weed and day-old pizza.

After I rang the doorbell for 3B, the door opened quickly.

Jack wore only boxers, his tattooed arms exposed, reeking of alcohol, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He spat at me in disgust.

"Jack, I need money." I grabbed his arm tightly. "Mia's medical bills are over ten thousand..."

He yanked his hand away. "That's your problem. What's it got to do with me?"

"They're your daughters too!"

He grinned, took the cigarette out, and deliberately flicked it at me.

"Who knows if those brats are even mine? Probably spawned from some john you fucked."

Bastard! Is that even human speech?

I trembled with rage. "Jack O'Connor, you can get a paternity test!"

"I don't have that kind of money to waste."

Just then, a busty woman in see-through lingerie walked out from inside, leaning against Jack.

"Who's this old lady?"

Jack put his arm around her waist and kissed her. "Ex-girlfriend. Get lost, don't bother me!"

Then he lifted his foot and kicked me hard in the stomach.

I fell into the muddy water in the hallway, covering my face, sobbing uncontrollably.

This was the man I dropped out of high school for—a complete animal!

But I can't just watch Mia and Nina die!

They need me, and I need money!

If there's only one path to save my daughters, then I'd rather...

For some reason, that man's face floated into my mind.

Dangerous yet alluring, loaded with money, and more importantly, extremely generous...

If I could please him well enough, maybe I could gather all the surgery fees for Mia and Nina in one go.

That way, I could solve the problem completely instead of trying to buy those specialty medications.

I flagged down a taxi in a daze and gave the driver that address.

When I regained awareness, I found myself already standing outside that door.

He leaned back on the sofa, holding a glass of Macallan filled with ice.

He didn't seem surprised at all by my return.

"Changed your mind?"

But I was so ashamed my face turned purple, even my hair seemed to tremble.

"Sir, I need money."

"Eighteen thousand dollars. As long as you give me... I can... provide special services."

His dark gaze fell directly on my chest.

The cheap cotton T-shirt clung tightly to my body, clearly outlining my swollen breasts.

Damn it, milk was leaking again!

The wet stains spread across a large area of my jacket, from collar to waist, all sticky.

He extended two fingers, pinched one of my nipples, and squeezed hard.

It hurt!

All these evil rich people are psychopaths! Perverts!

"One night." He spoke in a low voice.

"Wh... what?"

He lowered his head, his fingers reaching into my collar, grabbing my breast in one motion.

Like kneading dough, he roughly squeezed several times.

"I said, one night. You can't call it off midway."

I felt my ears burning, so ashamed I wanted to crawl into a crack in the floor.

"The condition is you have to be obedient. Whatever I say, you do."

"Whatever I tell you to call me, you call me... however I tell you to move, you move."

He paused, the corner of his mouth curving into a cold arc.

"Now, gently, with a touch of maternal love, call me Lorenzo..."

I hesitated. "Lorenzo."

"Why are you shaking? Not gentle enough. Softer, more seductive, more loving!"

He glared at me with sinister eyes.

Do you even hear what you're saying?

Can those words even appear together?

This bastard... does he have a mother complex?

But I didn't dare resist. After gasping roughly for a while, I tried again.

"L, Lorenzo."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly still unsatisfied.

"Forget it. Go in and take off your clothes!"

The bedroom was enormous. Like a sacrificial slave, I crawled to the bedside and closed my eyes.

My hands shook like a sieve as I tried several times to unzip my jacket.

My T-shirt was soaked through with breast milk, clinging tightly to my skin, outlining two bouncing hemispheres.

I could feel his burning gaze lingering there, as if he might pounce at any moment and tear off a chunk of flesh.

My breasts ached from the fullness, milk dripping down their swollen curves.

I watched in panic as they dripped, drip, drip, onto the expensive marble floor.

Would he be disgusted?

I quickly spread my hands, shamefully cupping my breasts to catch the continuously seeping milk.

"Hands off."

Lorenzo spoke with an undeniable authority.

My arms froze in front of my chest.

"Still leaking... can I... get a tissue..."

Milk seeped out uncontrollably, trickling down from my areolas.

"I said, take them off! Do you want the money or not?!" Lorenzo roared.

My heart jumped.

Okay, okay, I get it.

I'm not a person anymore—I'm merchandise.

I slowly lowered my arms, my fingertips trembling slightly.

His gaze, like a sharp laser beam, traced my body from top to bottom without concealment.

Blue veins were faintly visible beneath my thin skin.

My breasts were abnormally full from engorgement, hanging heavily downward.

My nipples stood erect from cold and shame, constantly seeping milky white liquid.

I wanted so badly to curl up.

Like a turtle retreating into its shell.

"Truly... magnificent." He chuckled lowly, his tone purely playful.

"Like two ripe fruits, waiting to be plucked."

My whole body trembled—what a terrible description!

"Oh, it moves on its own."

Lorenzo watched my body instantly tense from humiliation, his eyes growing darker. "Which nipple do you usually use to feed your baby?"

I bit my lower lip, tasting faint rust.

Don't cry, Scarlett.

You're only selling your body out of necessity—you're not like those lowly streetwalkers!

"Both sides. I alternate."

Lorenzo reached out and untied the belt of his black bathrobe, smirking as he draped it over my two nipples.

He tied them into a bow, playing with them for a while.

Then he revealed his lean, muscular body to me.

My gaze uncontrollably slid downward, then jerked away as if burned.

My heartbeat was fast enough to shatter my ribs.

With such a terrifying size, what the hell did he eat growing up?

Would he impale me to death?

Fear wrapped around my throat like vines.

"Lie down." He tilted his chin.