Chapter 6 Interest on a One-Night Stand
Ding!
A second later, a photo arrived. The photo showed Elena’s back as she was sneaking out of the private penthouse elevator earlier that morning. The angle was low and close, giving the impression that the photographer was standing right behind her, watching her every move.
Elena covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a hysterical scream.
That man. The Gigolo.
How did he get her private number in less than an hour? How did he know who she really was?
Another message followed, its tone even colder.
\[The money on the nightstand was only enough for my first kiss. You haven't paid for when you touched my body, or for when you took my virginity. Well, for the rest, you might have to pay with much higher interest. Prepare yourself, Miss.\]
Elena threw the phone to the end of the bed as if it were a burning coal. Pure terror now overflowed, mixing with the wounds inflicted by Morgan. She was trapped between a husband who had abandoned her for London with another woman, and a young predator she had just hired who now felt like a shadow haunting her every step.
"Who exactly is that man?" Elena muttered in fear, her eyes darting wildly around the room that suddenly felt claustrophobic.
She ran to the bathroom and turned the shower on to the coldest setting. She drenched herself, scrubbing her skin hard as if she could erase the scent of sandalwood and dark chocolate that still lingered—the scent of the man who, technically, now owned her in secret.
Elena didn't know that at a private lounge in Heathrow Airport, Morgan had just landed and was kissing Marissa’s forehead with a triumphant smile.
And in New York, Elijah was standing in front of a giant monitor wall displaying every piece of data on Elena's family, including the blueprints of the luxury Morgan mansion.
"The Morgan family mansion, huh?" Elijah smirked, swirling his glass of whiskey until the ice cubes clinked softly. His gaze was fixed on Elena’s profile, which appeared on the screen as 'Wife of the Morgan Group Heir.'
"Let's see how long your husband can protect you from across the ocean, Elena. Because from this second on, I am your new neighbor—and the rightful owner of every inch of you."
...
A week had passed since that devastating night. Elena lived like a ghost in the vast Morgan mansion. News of Morgan being in London had already spread among New York's socialites through Marissa’s cryptic posts, making Elena the subject of bitter gossip as the "discarded bride."
That morning, Elena decided to leave the house to breathe some fresh air—or more accurately, to escape the judgmental stares of the mansion's staff. As she was parking her car in a small shopping area a few blocks from her elite neighborhood, she saw him.
The man was standing in front of an old grocery store, lifting heavy crates into a truck. He wore a faded plain white t-shirt and jeans torn at the knees. Sweat soaked his messy hair, yet his handsome face remained impossible to hide.
"Elijah?" Elena whispered, her heart skipping a beat.
Elena intended to leave immediately, but Elijah suddenly turned. Those sharp blue eyes met hers. There was no predatory smirk there. This time, Elijah looked at her with a gaze that seemed... embarrassed? And exhausted.
Elijah immediately set down the crate and walked toward her with hesitant steps.
"Miss? What are you doing here?"
"I... I was just passing by," Elena answered nervously. She looked him up and down. "Why are you here? And those terrifying messages, who are you, really?"
Elijah’s face instantly darkened. He looked down, rubbing his hands which were dirty from the dust of the crates.
"I’m sorry about those messages, Miss. I was... I was desperate."
He invited Elena to sit on a wooden bench in a small nearby park. Elijah began to execute his grand charade.
"I know you must think I’m a villain stalking you," Elijah began, his voice trembling slightly—a flawless performance. "But after that night, the assistant manager of the bar where I work found your business card that you left behind and told me who you were. I panicked. I needed that money to pay for my younger sister's hospital bills. The debt has strangled our family to the point where our house was seized."
Elena was stunned. "A younger sister?"
Elijah nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Of course, it was all an act! If there were an award for best actor, Elijah would be a top contender.
"I had no choice but to work at that bar. That night, when you asked me to accompany you... I felt like the lowest man in the world. But I needed the money. Those messages... I just wanted to scare you into giving me the remaining payment you promised while you were drunk, because I had to send the money today."
Elijah then stood up, handing her a small bundle of crumpled hundred-dollar bills—the same money Elena had left on the nightstand.
"Take this back, Miss. I may be poor, but I don’t want to destroy the life of a woman who is already as broken as you are. I saw the news... about your husband... I’m so sorry."
Elijah turned to walk away with slumped shoulders, giving the impression of a man carrying the weight of the world on his back.
Elena’s soft heart—already wounded by Morgan—melted instantly. She felt guilty for labeling this poor man a predator when he was just a victim of poverty trying to survive.
"Wait, Elijah!" Elena called out.
Elijah stopped without turning, hiding the victorious smirk that almost formed on his lips.
"I will help you," Elena said firmly. "Don't do manual labor like this anymore. How much is your family's debt? I will pay it, but on one condition."
Elijah turned back, giving her a perfectly convincing 'confused' look. "What condition?"
Elena took a deep breath. She needed an escape. She needed someone who could make her feel valued—something Morgan had never given her.
"Be mine. Exclusively. As long as my husband is away, you must be there whenever I need you. I’ll rent you an apartment nearby so you don’t have to live like this."
Elijah was silent for a moment, then he slowly approached and took Elena's hand, kissing her fingers gently—exactly like a loyal servant, though the glint in his eyes said something entirely different.
"Whatever you wish, Miss. I am completely yours."
Elijah was just about to return a kiss to her fingers when the roar of luxury engines shattered the silence of the small park. Three black Range Rovers screeched to a halt right in front of them, blocking the view of the street.
Elena’s face turned deathly pale. She recognized those license plates.
"Oh, no, Dad?" Elena muttered in panic. She quickly pulled her hand from Elijah’s grasp, but Elijah remained standing calmly beside her, maintaining his 'clueless innocent' facade.