Max kept his faint smile, showing no anger at Emily's explosive reaction. He simply tilted his head, his voice warm but carrying an invisible weight of authority.
"You misunderstand me. Your mood seems quite low. They say music is medicine for the soul, don't you know?"
"Besides, I truly just want to hear you sing. Please, trust me."
Max paused for a moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of 10,000 dollars, placing it firmly on the table.
"And your father... he surely needs this money right now, doesn't he, Emi?"
"The decision is entirely yours. I won't force you into anything. You can even take that pocket change and leave. I won't ask for it back."
"I will be waiting for you at the Fetist Karaoke, VIP Room 203."
He stood up naturally and walked out of the bar. He moved with a calm grace, as if he didn't have a single doubt that she would follow.
To catch a big fish, one must use a wide net. The more Max acted like he didn't care about the money, the more Emily's imagination ran wild.
If she ran away with the money, Max wouldn't mind. He had plenty of money and even more time. He would simply find a new target.
She wondered to herself: could a man who gives away 10,000 dollars without a second thought be an ordinary person?
Would he really lack the 200,000 dollars she needed? How vast and powerful was the shadow he cast?
The questions swirled in her head. Combined with the haze of the alcohol, her ability to think rationally began to crumble.
Max had led her slowly to the edge. By reminding her of her circumstances, he forced her back into the cold reality of her life.
She thought of her own bright future, and then she thought of her father. He was a great man who had protected and cared for her all those years.
Even when work was exhausting, he was never cold. He never took his anger out on her without reason.
People often say fathers express less emotion than mothers. But Emily's father was different.
Her mother had passed away shortly after giving birth to her. Emily had never felt a mother's love, so her father had loved her twice as much.
After a long psychological struggle, her hand trembled as she reached for the stack of money on the table.
She touched it lightly, then pulled her hand back in fear. Finally, she grabbed the entire stack and tucked it slowly into her bag.
She stood up with difficulty and walked toward the exit. The bundle of cash was light, but in her hand, it felt like it weighed a thousand tons.
Every step felt like a march toward an inevitable fate. She never truly intended to run away.
First, this amount wasn't enough to save her father. Second, while the man spoke politely, every word carried a hidden threat.
She clung to a tiny, naive hope that he really just wanted her to sing. It was a form of self-delusion to stop her heart from breaking.
If she ran, she feared not only for herself but for her family. She forced a smile, though her eyes were red and wet with unshed tears.
[Affection from Emily: -4, +5, -3]
[Total Affection: 61/100]
Max sat in the VIP room, his legs crossed and his arms spread across the back of the leather sofa.
He wore a confident smile as he stared at the door. He was trying to project an aura of mystery, acting as if he knew she was coming.
While waiting, he practiced his "cool" pose. The situation would be incredibly awkward if she actually decided not to show up.
Thump. Thump. The sound of footsteps approached from the hallway. Then, the distinct click of the handle turning.
The door opened. Emily stood there, exactly as he had predicted.
She had changed back into her modest, everyday clothes instead of the revealing hostess uniform.
The change didn't make her less attractive. Instead, it gave her an air of purity and holiness that made her beauty stand out.
Seeing her like this only made Max want to stain that purity even more. But he wasn't in a hurry.
Emily saw Max's relaxed posture. The way he looked at her made her tiny spark of hope finally flicker and die. He knew she would come.
She had spent her time drying her tears and gathering her courage. Now, she looked calm, as if she had finally accepted her fate.
She quietly locked the door. She reached down, her hands trembling as she began to lift the hem of her dress.
"Stop. What do you think you're doing?" Max asked.
Emily felt a surge of indignation. The tears she had tried so hard to hold back finally burst out again.
"Isn't this what you forced me to do? Are you still going to play games with me now?"
Max stood up and walked over to her. He gently used his sleeve to wipe the tears from her flushed cheeks.
"What kind of man do you think I am?" he asked softly, his voice dripping with artificial warmth.
"Put your dress back down. I only want to hear you sing... and I want to see your smile."