Chapter 2

The following morning, Samantha awoke to a deep, aching pain coursing through her body. She tried to move, only to realize she was firmly restrained. Who was she? Where was she? What had she been doing? Those three questions flashed through her mind as her scattered memories slowly pieced themselves back together. Bit by bit, fragments of the previous night resurfaced. It had been an intense experience. It was undeniably painful, yet with moments of unexpected sweetness. He had been thorough, completely relentless. And for her first time, it felt as though he had pushed her beyond her limits. She turned her head slightly and caught sight of his strikingly handsome face, one that could easily inspire envy in anyone who saw him. His eyes remained closed. With each steady breath, his long eyelashes quivered ever so gently, evoking a strange, unshakable emotion within her. She carefully slipped out of his embrace and reached for her club uniform on the floor—a miniskirt, a sleeveless top, and a bow tie. The fabric was slightly loose, a result of his rough handling the night before. She adjusted it as best she could. Next, she gathered her hair into a neat bun and secured a golden mask over her face. It was the standard uniform of the club. Then, she tried to open the door, wishing for luck. She needed to escape. To her surprise, the door opened immediately when she pushed it. The man who had dragged her into the room the night before was now standing outside the door. Seeing her step out, he looked surprised and quickly asked, "Is it done?" "I… I have to go to work." Samantha's face burned as memories of the previous night flooded her mind. Embarrassment overwhelmed her, making it impossible to meet his gaze, let alone respond. Panic seized her. Without a second thought, she turned and fled, never once daring to look back. Simon Moore watched as Samantha hurried away, shaking his head helplessly. "It's understandable that she didn't succeed, but I'm fair," he muttered. "I'll still pay for the hard work, even if she fails. Why the rush?" He couldn't be bothered to figure out what was going through her mind. He simply turned and pushed open the door to the private room. The room was a complete mess. As he stepped inside, Leonardo's suit, trousers, and underwear were scattered across the floor. Most striking of all, a noticeable bloodstain marked the pristine white bedsheet. Simon was taken aback and rushed to check on Leonardo, who was lying on the bed. "Mr. Garrett, are you alright?" Still half-asleep, Leonardo was momentarily disoriented. As he slowly opened his eyes, he was met with Simon's face, uncomfortably close. Without hesitation, he frowned and promptly kicked him away. "Get out!" Simon quickly got up and checked on Leonardo. "Mr. Garrett, are you injured? That woman actually harmed you while you were sleeping. She must have a death wish!" Fully awake now, Leonardo's gaze flickered to the bloodstain on the bed. His expression remained calm as he replied, "That's not my blood." Simon froze. His mind went blank for a moment before a shocking realization dawned on him. "Wait… That belonged to the woman?" Leonardo remained silent, yet his lack of response said everything. Simon's suspicion was confirmed. "It actually worked?" he murmured. "Where is she?" Leonardo asked. "She just left." "What?" Leonardo's expression remained unreadable. He found it hard to believe that she had simply left after their night together. He scoffed. She had treated it as nothing more than a mere transaction. Simon didn't dare to speculate about Leonardo's thoughts. He couldn't deny that the woman's figure and appearance were exceptional, yet she seemed promiscuous. He had always believed that Leonardo, known for his restraint, wouldn't be interested in such a woman. Yet, to his surprise, he seemed intrigued. Still, one thing puzzled Simon. That woman looked like she had experienced many intimate encounters. How could last night be her first sexual experience? It simply didn't add up. "Get out." Leonardo's voice snapped Simon back to reality. Lying beneath the quilt, Leonardo was completely naked. Having worked for him for years, Simon had seen him in formal attire countless times, but this was the first time he had ever seen him without clothing. "Useless ears might as well be removed." The warning made Simon recognize the seriousness of the situation. Without hesitation, he turned and rushed out of the private room. His speed helped save his life. Once the door shut behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he was safe. "I'm sorry, Mr. Moore." A woman in a club uniform approached Simon and said apologetically, "I sincerely apologize. I failed to make it last night. I'm truly sorry." Simon studied the woman standing before him. She was dressed the same and had the same figure as when she left that morning, yet something about her felt subtly different. Shaking off the thought, he reasoned it was just his imagination. It wasn't unusual for a woman to change slightly after her first sexual experience. Perhaps she had simply rushed out earlier to freshen up. After all, it had been her first time. He reassured her, saying, "I know you're inexperienced, and the process might not be perfect, but the outcome was exactly as planned. You did well. Here's the two million dollars I promised you." He handed her a check and emphasized, "It's important that you keep this matter confidential. Do you understand?" Layla Hamilton was momentarily taken aback. She hadn't been there the previous day, meaning she had no knowledge of what had happened. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't have been able to share any details. Yet, with the two-million-dollar check right in front of her, excitement bubbled within her. There was no reason to refuse. Without hesitation, she took the check and nodded. "I understand." "Alright. You may leave now." "Thank you, Mr. Moore." Layla grabbed the check and quickly left. … The waiters gathered in the locker room at the end of their shift. As they changed out of their work uniforms, they chatted casually, winding down from the night. Suddenly, Juliet Clark, the supervisor, stormed in and shouted angrily, "Samantha Newton! Where is she?" Samantha, who was changing clothes in the corner, raised her hand hesitantly. Perhaps it was guilt weighing on her, but her voice was barely a whisper. "I'm here." "I asked you to deliver a bottle of alcohol, but it never arrived. Where is it? What happened? I looked for you all night and couldn't find you!" Juliet shouted. Samantha bit her lip, momentarily at a loss for words. Juliet was infuriated, believing that Samantha had been deliberately ignoring her. "You just vanished after I sent you away with the alcohol? What were you doing? Slacking off?" "Juliet, I'm sorry. Something unexpected happened last night—" "I don't care if it was an accident. The alcohol was never delivered. Your salary of 300 dollars from last night and the 8,500 dollars for the alcohol will be deducted from your pay. If this happens again, don't bother coming back!" Samantha's face was drained of color. She found herself unable to deny the truth. The alcohol wasn't delivered, and it was also undeniable that she had lost her virginity. She had been counting on this month's salary to cover her university fees, but that large deduction left her unable to pay. Overwhelmed by anxiety, she felt numb, even as her nails dug painfully into her flesh. She felt as if her world had shattered. Her vision blurred as her eyes filled with unshed tears. After Juliet left, Layla stepped into the locker room with a radiant smile, exclaiming, "I made a lot of money today. Supper's on me!"