Scarlett' POV

I stammered out apologies, my heart racing:

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I—I mistook you for someone else just now. Where is Mr. Peterson right now... I'll come over right away!"

Clara sent me a location pin.

"Bill Manor. You have half an hour to get here, and dress nicely!"

A chill ran through me—I'd seen that place featured on a crime documentary.

"Clara, for the sake of us growing up together, can you just tell me the truth... why would he sell me the specialty medication for only eight hundred dollars?"

Clara fell silent for a moment, then laughed. "What do you think, Scarlett?"

"If it weren't for your tits and ass, what boss would make a deal like that at a loss?"

"You've already broken up with Jack anyway. What's the difference which man you sleep with?"

My breath caught, a sharp pang piercing through my chest.

What had happened to Clara?

"How could you set me up with something like this! I told you, no matter how hard things get, I would never—"

"Selling your body is shameful, is it?" Clara's voice shook with rage. "You know all that money I gave you when you were pregnant? Where do you think it came from?!"

"I earned it at the club, getting fucked by one Lorenzo after another!"

"You look down on whores? Then how about you go earn some clean money yourself?"

"You say you'd do anything to save your kids, but I think you're the most shameless whore of all!"

I gripped the phone, unable to move even after she hung up.

I'd wronged Clara. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

I was such a useless, self-righteous woman!

But what now?

Did I have any other option?

Wait—Jack. Jack should have money.

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

I flagged down a battered taxi and headed straight for the old apartment in Queens County.

The stairwell reeked of weed and stale pizza.

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

Jack stood there in nothing but boxers, tattooed arms on full display, reeking of alcohol, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips.

"What the hell do you want?" He spat at my feet in disgust.

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

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

"They're your daughters too!"

He grinned, pulled the cigarette from his mouth, and deliberately flicked it at me.

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

Bastard! Was he even human?

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

"I don't have money to waste on that."

Just then, a busty woman in see-through lingerie emerged from inside and leaned against Jack.

"Who's this old lady?"

Jack squeezed her waist and kissed her. "Ex-girlfriend. Get lost and stop bothering me!"

He lifted his foot and kicked me hard in the stomach.

I fell into the muddy water in the hallway, covering my face as sobs wracked my body.

This was the man I'd dropped out of high school for—an absolute animal!

But I couldn't stand by and watch Mia and Nina die!

They needed me, and I needed money!

If there was only one way to save my daughters, then I'd rather...

For some reason, Lorenzo's face flashed through my mind.

Dangerous yet magnetic, loaded with money, and more importantly, generous...

Sure, he had a filthy mouth, but if I could please him well enough, maybe I could get all of Mia and Nina's surgical fees in one go.

That way, I could solve everything completely, instead of scrambling to buy medication.

Scarlett, for your children, you have to temporarily sacrifice that worthless pride!

I bit my lip, flagged down a taxi, and gave the driver that address.

When my mind cleared, I found myself standing outside his door.

He lounged on the sofa, holding a glass of Macallan over ice.

He didn't seem the least bit surprised by my return.

"Changed your mind?"

Shame flooded through me, turning my face purple, every hair on my head trembling.

"Sir, I need money."

"Eighteen thousand dollars. If you give it to me... I can... provide special services."

His dark gaze dropped straight to my chest.

The cheap cotton T-shirt clung to my body, outlining the shape of my swollen breasts with perfect clarity.

Damn it, my milk was leaking again!

Wet stains spread across my shirt, from neckline to waist, everything sticky.

He reached out with two fingers, pinched one of my nipples through the fabric, and squeezed hard.

It hurt!

Rich perverts, all of them sick! Twisted!

"One night," he said quietly.

"What?"

He leaned down, his fingers sliding inside my neckline, grabbing my breast in one motion.

He kneaded it roughly, like dough.

"I said eighteen thousand for one night. You can't call it off halfway."

Heat rushed to my ears. I wanted to crawl into a crack in the floor.

"On one condition—you obey. I say something, you do it."

"I tell you to call me something, you call me that... I tell you to move a certain way, you move that way."

He paused, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

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

I hesitated. "Lorenzo."

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

His eyes blazed with a dark intensity.

Did he hear himself? Could those qualities even coexist?

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

It doesn't matter, Scarlett. This is just a job. Earn the money and you can leave immediately!

I took a few breaths and tried again.

"Lo—Lorenzo."

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

"Forget it. Go inside. Take off your clothes."

The bedroom was massive. I stood nervously by the bed and closed my eyes.

My hands shook like leaves as I fumbled with the zipper of my jacket several times before getting it open.

The T-shirt was soaked through with milk, clinging to my skin, outlining two bouncing, elastic 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 curved edges.

I watched in horror as droplets fell—drip, drip—onto the expensive marble floor.

Would he find me disgusting?

I quickly cupped my hands beneath them, trying shamefully to catch the milk that kept seeping out.

"Hands away."

Lorenzo's command carried an authority that brooked no argument.

My arms froze in front of my chest.

"It's still leaking... can I just grab a tissue..."

Milk flowed uncontrollably, trickling down from my areolas.

"I said hands away! Do you want the money or not?!" Lorenzo roared.

My heart jumped.

This bastard—had his parents never taught him how to treat people?

I slowly lowered my arms, fingertips trembling slightly.

His gaze swept over me like a sharp laser beam, tracing every contour of my body without restraint.

Blue veins showed faintly beneath my thin skin.

My breasts had become abnormally full from engorgement, heavy and drooping.

My nipples stood erect from cold and shame, constantly leaking milky white fluid.

I wanted to shrink away.

Curl up like a turtle retreating into its shell.

"Quite... spectacular." He chuckled darkly, his tone purely playful.

"Like two ripe fruits, just waiting to be picked."

I shuddered. What a horrible description!

"Oh, it moves on its own."

Lorenzo watched my body tense instantly 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 be sad, Scarlett.

You're only selling your body to him out of necessity. You're not like those cheap streetwalkers!

"Both sides. I alternate."

Lorenzo untied the belt of his black robe, revealing his lean, muscular body.

Then with a wicked grin, he wrapped the belt around me from behind, crossing it between my breasts and tying it in a bow.

"Lie down in the center of the bed. I'm going to unwrap my present."