Chapter 11. One Cut, One Hundred Thousand
Raphael sneered. Someone as cunning and greedy as her—how could she ever have enough money? It was simply because her face was ruined, and she couldn’t find another sugar daddy, so she had to comfort herself this way.
Seeing Raphael’s mocking gaze, Jacintha silently mocked herself: unbelievable, when she told the truth, he didn’t believe her. Indeed, prejudice against someone is a wall that cannot be broken.
She never intended to sell her body, but now she had no other choice.
With six cuts on her face, she could get six hundred thousand dollars to pay off all her debts, and then she wouldn’t have to kneel and flatter anyone anymore. But Raphael was half right — this face of hers was practically ruined. Because her body was inherently prone to slow healing, even a small wound would leave a scar on her skin and take a long time to fade.
Jacintha knew for sure that the six cuts on her face would leave scars, even modern medical technology might not completely heal them. But even having thought this through, she still gripped the glass tightly and prepared to make another cut across her face!
At that moment, half of Jacintha’s face was flawless and radiant white, while the other half bore two fresh, bloody cuts. Her lower lip was bitten pale, with a faint trace of blood seeping out. She clenched her jaw tightly, tasting the faint metallic tang of fresh blood in her mouth, while her right cheek seemed numb from the pain. It appeared she no longer felt the agony from the two wounds on her face.
If six slashes were made on the same side of the face, they would likely become permanent scars, difficult to erase completely. Yet Jacintha accepted this, thinking that although one side of her face was ruined, at least the other side remained intact—consider it her unique mark.
Just as Jacintha gripped the glass, ready to carve the third cut on her face, suddenly her wrist was squeezed tightly, and a sharp, crushing pain surged through her bones.
“Clatter!” The glass fell to the ground.
Jacintha felt her hand go limp from the pain, completely powerless, dropping weakly. Her pale wrist was gripped hard by Raphael, leaving a dark bruise.
Raphael was the ruler of Wulfhart; since childhood, he had undergone rigorous training. Both his intellect and strength were exceptional. Though he appeared polite and refined, his grip could easily break the bones of an ordinary man, let alone a fragile woman like Jacintha.
Jacintha had no time to worry if her hand was seriously injured. Fearful that Raphael might suddenly change his mind and refuse to pay for the scars on her face, she anxiously asked, “Mr. Wulfhart, what is the matter? Have I not done well enough?”
“Shut up!” Raphael’s voice was stern and cold. His face darkened like the night, and his blue eyes were icy and distant, making anyone who looked into them feel a chilling cold seep into their bones.
Seeing that, Jacintha grew even more uneasy. She could feel the anger radiating from Raphael, as if he was deeply irritated by something, yet she couldn’t figure out what it was. Clearly, she had followed all of Raphael’s requests.
Just as Jacintha felt anxious and worried, she saw Raphael pull out his phone. After a long moment, the person on the other end finally answered, and Raphael immediately ordered, “Transfer six hundred thousand dollars to Jacintha!”
Ending the call, Raphael looked at Jacintha with annoyance and said, “Get out! Just seeing you annoys me!”
Startled, Jacintha glanced down at the small blood-stained glass on the ground, her heart heavy with emotion, then softly said, “Thank you, Mr. Wulfhart.”
Her gratitude was completely sincere. She had served Raphael for two years. Although Raphael had a bad temper, often speaking coldly and mocking her, he was not cruel—he never tortured or treated his sugar baby harshly like other sugar daddies.
Jacintha had once heard a rumor about a female artist who had been beaten by her sugar daddy until she slipped into a deep coma, nearly on the brink of death—her entire body covered with lash marks, barely any skin left unscathed.
Everyone in the entertainment circle knew about this. Jacintha had even seen the nude photos of that artist circulating secretly on a dark web forum, reportedly posted by her own sugar daddy. That clearly showed that the demands Raphael made of her were actually merciful.
Except for tonight’s request.
Jacintha rose with difficulty, then took a tissue from the table to cover the wound on her mouth. Suddenly, she heard Raphael’s cold voice: “If you truly want to thank me, then stay far away. Don’t make me have to see you!”
Jacintha stiffened slightly. She paused, then whispered, “I understand. I won’t bother you anymore.”
Then she turned and walked out. Reaching the door, she couldn’t help but glance back one last time—and all she saw was Raphael standing by the low window, handsome and cold as ever.
In that moment, Jacintha clearly realized that the relationship between her and Raphael was completely over.
If that rainy night she hadn’t confessed her feelings to Raphael in a moment of emotion, perhaps he wouldn’t have come to despise her as he does now, and they could have continued their transactional relationship of money and desire until the day Raphael truly grew tired of her.
But now their arrangement is over. The gap between them is too vast—one standing high above, the other as small as an ant. It’s no surprise that from now on, she will no longer have a chance to cross paths with Raphael.
After Jacintha left Celeste Manor, the sky outside was pitch dark. The street was nearly deserted, surrounded by various vehicles, and she wandered alone along the road. She slightly lowered her head and hurried toward the nearby hospital. Although she had covered her face with tissues, blood from the wound on her right cheek still seeped through, soaking the tissues.
By the time she arrived at the hospital, all three tissues were stained with blood. The person attending to her wound was a very kind nurse. She carefully treated Jacintha’s injury, then curiously asked, "How did your face get such a serious injury?"
“I just accidentally bumped into something sharp,” Jacintha replied with a faint smile.
The nurse didn’t believe her. She provided first aid to many injured people, so she could easily tell whether a wound was caused accidentally or intentionally. The cuts on Jacintha’s face were clearly made by someone wielding a sharp object. How could two such cuts appear just from accidentally brushing against a sharp object?
The nurse also didn’t know how cruel the assailant must have been to leave such deep slashes on this girl’s face. She looked truly pitiful.
Curious about Jacintha’s situation, the nurse finally shook her head regretfully. “You’re really beautiful, much like the famous star Sharon Rosenthal. If you end up with scars like this, you’ll lose the natural beauty of your face.”