Chapter 26
Blaze
“…or so I thought… But here I am standing by his gate like a beggar, just a few hours before my night shift.”
I fucking hate myself for this.
The air feels thick, suffocating, and I can’t believe I’m even here. I swore I’d never crawl back to him, but reality’s a bitch, and here I am, proving I’m no better than the dog he probably thinks I am.
I thought about it too much. The numbers, the deadlines, my mum’s condition… I can’t do this alone. I know damn well I’ll never make enough to repay a fucking million, let alone $10bills.
And Carlo… he already saw me at my lowest. What’s one more humiliation, right? Instead of watching my mum suffer in that shithole, maybe I can just give him what he wants, and after a year or two, he’ll get bored.
He changes women like he changes his fucking suits. I’d just be another toy.
I’ve called him several times. No answer. Bastard probably saw the calls and ignored them, letting me stew in my own pathetic desperation.
So now, I squat by the gate, too tired to stand anymore, my head buried between my knees. The exhaustion drags me under, and I drift into a calm, empty sleep.
A sharp voice cuts through my haze.
“Oh, you’re here.”
I blink awake, disoriented for a second. Carlo’s standing over me, bent at the waist, that same cocky fucking smirk plastered on his face.
I scramble to my feet, wiping my palms on my jeans, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left.
“Is the offer still available?” I ask, my voice firm, hiding the absolute fucking flood of embarrassment clawing inside me.
“Very much available,” he says, his smile like a goddamn challenge.
“I have a condition,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady.
His brow arches, and for a split second, I see something dark flicker in his eyes. Amusement? Annoyance?
“Oh, you still have a condition in your situation? What gives you the idea I’ll take whatever condition you have?” His voice drops into that dominant tone, the one that makes my skin crawl.
“Let’s get in… or do you plan to tell the world how you’re agreeing to such an offer?” he adds before turning toward his sleek black SUV, leaving me no choice but to follow.
I hesitate, glancing toward his mansion. Why the fuck do we have to take the car? We could just walk inside. But of course, Carlo always makes a show out of everything.
I get in, the leather cold against my skin, and soon we’re pulling into his driveway. His master bedroom is exactly what I expect—luxurious as hell, too polished, too perfect.
I sit on the couch like a patient dog. Yeah, that’s how low I’ve fallen. But fuck it. None of this matters.
He disappears into what I guess is a walk-in closet, then returns with two glasses of whiskey.
“Do you mind?” he asks, offering me one with that same smug expression.
I look at him and grab the glass, if I mind? Hell that’s the shit I need right now before I say the embarrassing shit and agree with this nonsense.
I take it, not because I want to drink with him, but because I need something to kill the fucking shame building up in my throat. I down the whiskey in one go, letting it burn all the way down.
“How long are we gonna do this?” I ask, my voice rough.
“You mean how long for a round?” He smirks. “Well, I can’t tell your stamina, but I’m sure just twice isn’t enough for us.”
“Jerk, how long will I be able to pay it off?” I snap, glaring at him.
His smile widens, slow and cruel.
“How much are you worth?” he asks, and the question makes my blood boil.
“I can let you do it for at least two years, even though it won’t be enough to pay off that amount of money,” he says with a careless shrug, like he’s doing me a fucking favor.
Two years. Two fucking years of this. I feel sick.
“That’s too much,” I mumble, pretending to give a shit, even though at this point, I know I have no say.
“Nothing less,” he says, sipping his drink.
“Fine,” I finally mutter. The word tastes like ash. “When will the payment be made?”
“Immediately,” he says smoothly, like he’s been waiting for this moment. He pushes a file across the mini table toward me.
“Sign that. I don’t want you disappearing after getting my money.”
I shoot him a glare so cold it could cut steel, but he just sits there, perfectly relaxed, perfectly in control.
I sign the papers. No hesitation. What’s the point? I’m already neck-deep in this shit.
He picks up his phone, dials someone—I assume his secretary.
“Send a message to the old man,” he says, and just like that, my heart fucking stops.
When he raises his head again, there’s something in his eyes that makes my skin crawl. Not satisfaction… possession. Obsession. Like he finally caught what he’s been hunting.
He stands up, walking toward me, and suddenly, the room feels too small, his presence suffocating.
He leans over me, and my heart starts pounding, fast and hard, like it’s trying to escape my chest.
“You’re mine now,” he says, his voice low, cocky, and absolutely fucking certain.
I should’ve expected this. I should’ve known. But still, the words hit like a goddamn punch.
I force myself to smirk, to say something, anything to push back.
“Do you even know how to fuck a man?” I ask, my voice laced with mockery. “I heard you’ve only had girls.”
His grin is slow, dangerous.
“Hm. You’ll find that out soon.”
Ah fuck, the way he says it makes my stomach twist.
I feel it, deep in my gut… I just dug my own fucking grave.
Carlo’s eyes darken, and before I can even process it, he moves—fast. His hand shoots out, grabbing my face, firm but not rough. His thumb brushes my bottom lip, slow and deliberate, like he’s testing how far he can push me.
My heart’s pounding like a fucking drum in my chest, and I swear to God, I can’t breathe. He’s too close. His scent—clean, musky, and expensive—hits me hard, and for a second, just a damn second, I forget everything. My eyes drop to his lips, and that’s my mistake.
The bastard knows it too. His mouth curves into a slow, wicked smile, and he leans in, his breath warm against my skin, sending a goddamn shiver down my spine. I know what’s coming. I should pull back, tell him to fuck off, but I don’t. I can’t.
His lips hover just inches from mine, and my body betrays me—heat coils low in my stomach, and fuck, I hate it. I hate how easy it would be to let him take what he wants.
But as his mouth gets closer, something snaps inside me. Right before our lips touch, I jerk my head down, staring at the floor, my face burning with shame. I can’t look at him, not now, not when I know I almost… almost let it happen.
“Not now,” I mutter, my voice low, shaky. “I… I want to prepare.”
It’s a pathetic excuse, and we both know it. But Carlo doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, his grip tightens for a moment, like he’s considering forcing me anyway, but then… he lets go.
The heat lingers, burning holes into my skin.
“Soon,” Carlo says, voice rough, dangerous, but there’s a twisted satisfaction in it, like he enjoys watching me squirm.
And goddamn it, I know he does.