I found myself running back into the garden, searching endlessly for the card.
After minutes of frantic digging, I spotted it tucked between two flowers. I stared at it for a long moment.
Am I really ready to do this?
To offer my body just to get what I want?
But what choice did I have? If I didn't do this, he wouldn't help me. And no matter where I ran, the cops would keep hunting me down.
With trembling hands, I went back upstairs and dialed the number.
It rang twice before he picked up.
"Hello, sir… it's Scarlett," I said hesitantly.
"What." His voice was flat.
"I wanted to know if you were still willing to help me."
"Are you ready to accept my conditions?"
My throat went dry. "Yes," I whispered, my heart in my mouth.
"Good for you. I'll stop by later today—we'll discuss the rest."
Before I could respond, he ended the call.
I lowered the phone, my hand shaking, my chest tight.
Why was I always the one being used?
My ex used me, then threw me away.
My best friend betrayed me.
And my mother… I still can't tell whether she's trying to help me or destroy me from the shadows.
God, I'm so tired.
I went downstairs for breakfast. Everything was neatly arranged and looked delicious, but my appetite was gone.
I grabbed one fried egg, placed it between two slices of bread, and ate slowly—miserably—lamenting over my doomed fate.
I was about to reach for another slice when one of the bodyguards approached me with a package.
"Good morning, ma'am. Boss instructed me to give you this," he said, handing it to me.
Inside was a brand-new phone.
Mr. Grey was truly full of surprises—cold and cruel on the outside but unexpectedly soft beneath it all.
"You can transfer your SIM card," the guard said, "but note that you won't be able to send text messages. Only calls."
I blinked. "Wait—what? Why?"
"Your location and tracking system have been permanently destroyed. It affects messaging and any chat apps. It's to prevent you from being traced."
"Was it because of the screen damage?"
"No. The boss ordered for it to be wiped out," he said before walking away.
I stared at the phone.
It really was beautiful.
After breakfast, I headed back to my room for a short nap. Wrapped in the fluffy blanket, I slowly drifted off.
AfternoonI tossed and turned before finally waking, blinking against the afternoon sunlight.
Speaking of the afternoon… Mr. Cross should have arrived by now.
Oh God—I hope he hasn't left already.
Dragging myself out of bed, I headed into the hallway.
From the top of the stairs, I scanned the living room.
There he was—standing by the bar, casually sipping wine.
And as if he sensed me, he looked up. Our eyes locked.
A smirk tugged at his lips before he returned to his glass.
My heart jumped. I darted behind the pillar, clutching my chest.
Am I really ready for this?
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out and slowly made my way downstairs toward him.
I sat on the barstool across from him.
He raised a hand, and instantly everyone in the room began to leave—until it was just the two of us.
My palms and feet started sweating.
When he moved his hand slightly toward me, I panicked and jumped to my feet.
"W–wait, Mr. Cross," I stammered, backing away. "I don't think you'd want me. I'm… not very good in bed."
He simply stared at me for a moment before letting out a light chuckle.
What was funny?
"Who said I wanted you in my bed?" he replied calmly.
I blinked. "What?"
"When I asked if you were willing to offer yourself, I never said it was to me."
My heart froze.
Then it hit me like a snake bite.
Mr. Grey.
"Oh no… no no no…" I whispered. "Is it Mr. Grey?"
He nodded.
My stomach flipped.
Mr. Grey looked like the type of man who could dislocate a woman's legs without trying.
I sat back down, and he poured me a glass of wine.
So that was what he wanted. Not what I had imagined.
Silly me.
"Mr. Cross… please just be sincere with me. What do you want from me?"
"Now you're talking."
He gave me a slow, sexy smile, and I felt my cheeks heat.
Embarrassed, I quickly cleared my throat and pretended to adjust my hair.
"You're lively and annoying at the same time," he said. "A perfect match to get on Xavier's nerves."
Was that a compliment?
Am I really that annoying?
"I want you to use that… personality of yours to make Xavier happy. Give him a reason to live. A reason to hope for something beyond killing and running a mafia empire."
I froze, confused.
Why was he saying all this?
What happened to Xavier that made him give up on life?
"Is something wrong with Mr. Grey?" I asked quietly.
"There's a lot wrong," he said, lowering his voice. "A lot. But none of that concerns you. Just focus on what I'm telling you."
I nodded slowly.
"If you want to strike a deal with him, you need to give him something in return. And your body happens to be a very appealing option."
He paused, then added sternly,
"But be warned—don't force yourself on him. You might end up dead before you even touch him."
My blood ran cold.
"I'll talk to him," he continued. "I'll convince him to help you and allow your stay."
I sat silently, processing everything.
"So… I just have to make him happy? Even if it includes… that… and then I get what I want?"
"Perfectly said. Just be his woman for three months. After that—you'll be free."
Free.
The word echoed in my mind.
Would I even remember what freedom felt like?
Just three months.
"Okay, Mr. Cross. I accept."
"Good. Sign here."
He handed me a pen, and I signed, praying I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life.
He took the paper and stood to leave, but paused at the door.
"One more thing. Don't even think about developing feelings for him. Unless you want an early death."
I shivered at his warning.
"Don't worry, Mr. Cross," I said firmly. "I have no intention of falling in love again. Not now, not ever. And especially not with Mr. Grey."
"Good for you," he said before leaving.
Upstairs, I sat on my bed, his words echoing in my mind.
"Unless you want an early death…"
A chill ran through me.
Am I going to regret this deal?
Please, God… I can't lose anything else.