Chapter 23
Blaze
“What the fuck?” My voice comes out hoarse as I blink against the dim light. My head is pounding like a motherfucker. My whole body feels like I got run over by a damn truck.
I push myself up, wincing as a sharp sting shoots through my ribs. I look around. The room is big, expensive as hell. Leather furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows, a fucking chandelier.
This ain’t my place. Did someone pick up after I fainted there? I can still feel slight pain shooting through my entire system.
A deep chuckle makes me snap my head to the side.
“You’re finally awake.”
Carlo. Why the hell is he here?
I grit my teeth. “Where the fuck am I?”
Carlo leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking so fucking smug I want to punch him in the face. A hit that can wipe that damn look off his stupidly handsome face.
That face is just the exact opposite of his asshole personality.
“My place,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I saved your ass. Again. That’s three times now.”
I scowl, so he was the owner of the faint calm footsteps I heard walking towards me as I started losing consciousness. “Twice, to be precise. Don’t fucking act cocky.”
His lips twitch like he’s amused, I’m used to that fucking attitude of his but it still pisses off as shit. “Oh? I could’ve sworn—”
“Sworn my ass,” I snap, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My head fucking spins. “What the fuck am I doing here?”
Carlo tilts his head, watching me like he’s enjoying this way too much. “I should be asking you that,” he says smoothly. “What were you doing getting your ass dumped outside your own damn shop like trash?”
I freeze. So he even saw them dumping me there.
His eyes darken. “You got into some trouble, didn’t you?”
I swallow hard. My throat feels like sandpaper. “Ahem!” I try to clear my throat but it doesn’t help.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.
Carlo just stares. “That so?”
Silence stretches between us. I fucking hate the way he’s looking at me. Like he knows something.
Then he says it.
“I’ll pay off the debt.”
My head jerks up. “What?”
“I’ll pay off the debt,” Carlo repeats, ah that rich CEO fucking vibe, they are all bastards who thinks they are suddenly Jesus just cos they got money. “And I’ll bring your mother out of that place.”
For a second, I just fucking stare at him. My chest tightens. My fingers curl into the sheets. This is an insult and he knows it, the fact that he’s always seeing me at my worst is the most painful thing right now.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, my voice rough. “How the fuck do you even know about that?”
Carlo smirks. “I heard you,” he says simply. “That night at the race. Two nights ago. You made a call before leaving in a hurry with that dickhead friend of yours”
My stomach drops. No fucking way. “His name is Felix” I shoot back.
“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about what he’s called” he responds as he shrugs.
“I was still around,” Carlo continues, like he’s enjoying this shit, of course he’s enjoying the show. “Figured I’d check on you later. I went to your shop. But guess what I found instead?”
I don’t say anything. My throat is tight.
Carlo’s smirk fades. “I saw them drop you off.”
Fucking hell.
He knows.
I look away, jaw clenching. I feel fucking exposed. Vulnerable. I fucking hate it.
Carlo sighs. “So? No smartass remark?”
I grind my teeth. “I don’t need your fucking help.”
Carlo just chuckles. “Yeah? Why are you here? Barely conscious? Looking like shit?”
I glare at him. “I didn’t ask you to bring me here.”
“You would’ve preferred I left you on the street?” His voice is lazy, but there’s something sharp underneath.
I don’t answer. Silence again. I don’t have the energy to respond to that.
Then, for some fucking reason, I force the words out.
“Thank you.”
I fucking hate him. I hate him so goddamn much. But right now, I owe him. And I fucking know it, it’s fair to appreciate his heroic display at least that’s what he wants.
Carlo raises an eyebrow. “Come again?”
I glare at him. “You heard me, dickhead.”
Carlo laughs. A low, deep sound that sends waves through me, damn he looks even better when he laughs like that. He shakes his head. “Damn, I should’ve recorded that.”
“Fuck you.”
“You wish.”
I flip him off.
Carlo just smirks. Then his expression shifts.
“Seriously, though,” he says. “I’ll pay off the debt. Get that old bastard to release your mother.”
I freeze.
Every part of me goes still.
I don’t fucking move.
He says it so casually. Like it’s no big deal. Like it’s that fucking simple.
And for a second—just a fucking second—I let myself imagine it.
Mom. Out of that place. Free. Safe.
My throat burns.
I shake my head. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
Carlo’s lips curl. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
I wait. My heart is pounding.
Then he says it.
“I want something in return.”
I fucking knew it.
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Of course you do. What, you want me to give my liver? Fight for you? Work under you?”
Carlo smiles. Slow. Almost lazy.
“Nah,” he says. “None of that. But the first option would be a good idea” I glare at him.
My hands clench. “Then what the fuck do you want?”
Carlo takes a step closer. His voice drops.
“You.”
A chill runs down my spine. I don’t understand what he’s saying. Me?
I frown. “The fuck does that mean?”
Carlo tilts his head. His eyes gleam. “I want you to sleep with me.”
The words hit like a fucking truck.
For a second, I think I misheard him.
“What?”
Carlo smirks. “You heard me.”
I stare at him. “You’re fucking joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
No. He fucking doesn’t.
I swallow. My mouth is dry. Is he crazy? I knew he was a psycho but what the hell is this situation?
Carlo leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching me. Like he’s waiting.
“You sleep with me,” he says, smooth as fucking silk. “We see how much per time. How long it takes for you to pay off the debt.”
My stomach twists.
He’s serious.
He’s so fucking serious.
I feel like I’m drowning.
“You’re out of your goddamn mind,” I say, my voice rough.
Carlo just shrugs. “Maybe.”
I shake my head. My brain is fucking short-circuiting.
“You—” I swallow. “You think I’d fucking do that? Spread my legs for you to fuck?”
Carlo’s smirk deepens. “I think you don’t have much of a choice.”
My breath catches.
I fucking hate him.
I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone.
But then he speaks again.
“And,” he says, voice low, “I’ll send the best doctor for your mother. Get her the surgery. All in my care.”
My chest tightens.
I feel like I’m suffocating.
Carlo watches me. He knows. He fucking knows what he’s doing to me.
All I have to do… is start sleeping with him.