When Leah Sinclair woke up the next morning, she felt as if she'd been beaten up. Her whole body ached. She stared blankly at the white ceiling.
She lay there for a minute before a sudden laugh escaped her. But as soon as she did, a tear fell, rolling from the corner of her eye into her ear. She reached up to wipe it away and struggled to sit up.
She wanted to get up and take a shower, but the moment her feet touched the floor, the discomfort and sharp pain between her legs made her cry out.
"Awake?" a crisp, cold male voice asked.
Leah Sinclair froze. A moment later, she scrambled back under the covers, wrapping them tightly around herself before looking up.
The man from last night was leaning against the bedroom doorway, watching her with a cold expression. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and without them, he looked several degrees colder than he had the day before.
'This man is... gorgeous.' That had been Leah Sinclair's first thought upon seeing him yesterday.
He had a high-bridged nose, thin lips, and deep-set eyes. When he looked at you, it felt as if he could see right through you. To be honest, he was no less handsome than any movie star.
She guessed he was about six-foot-two, countless times better than the fat, big-eared man she'd almost been forced to accompany on her first assignment.
She only remembered his surname was Keating. When Ethan Shaw had sent her over yesterday, she'd been terrified it would be another hideous man. She had breathed a sigh of relief when she was pushed to his side.
'At least with a man like this, I can console myself that it's not a complete loss.'
Asher Keating walked over to her. As memories of last night flooded her mind, Leah Sinclair awkwardly tightened her grip on the blanket. She lowered her head, not daring to look at him.
He seemed to let out a small laugh. The next second, he brutally seized her chin, forcing her to meet a pair of eyes completely devoid of warmth. "Plotted against me?"
Leah Sinclair froze, not understanding what he meant. Asher Keating tossed a phone in front of her. On the screen, security footage showed her going to the restroom the previous day.
At the restroom entrance, a woman had slipped something into her hand. She had been so nervous she'd almost dropped it. Their private room had no cameras—all the better for the rich young masters to have their fun—but it wasn't hard to guess who Leah Sinclair had slipped the drug to after getting it.
"Who sent you?" Asher Keating tightened his grip.
"No... no one." Leah Sinclair's jaw throbbed, feeling as if it would shatter. She reached up to grab his hand.
"No one?" Asher Keating didn't let go. Instead, his grip grew even more vicious. "If no one sent you, why did you drug me? Why did you crawl into my bed?"
His gaze was frigid. To Leah Sinclair, it felt like he was looking at a corpse. A shiver ran down her spine, and the movement caused the blanket to slip, revealing her slender shoulders and collarbone. They were covered in marks Asher Keating had left the night before.
"Young Master Keating, you're mistaken..."
Tears of pain nearly streamed from Leah Sinclair's eyes, but she held them back. Her eyes were terribly bloodshot. Asher Keating faltered for a moment.
But he didn't release her chin. He simply stared at her, his face expressionless.
"The drug... was for myself."
Leah Sinclair said with difficulty. She didn't dare struggle too much. Eve had taught her that with clients like these, not resisting might keep things from getting worse. The more you fought back, the more twisted they became.
Asher Keating froze, his grip slackening unconsciously. 'For herself?' He frowned, weighing the truth of her words.
Leah Sinclair felt his grip ease and quickly pressed on with her explanation, "I knew there was no getting out of it last night, so I figured I'd take something to help me... get into it. But you drank my wine."
Asher Keating remembered. His last glass of wine had, in fact, been Leah Sinclair's. He had been about to leave with her, but a drunk Riley Sterling had thrown a fit, insisting she finish her drink before they could go.
He had drunk it in her place. But he didn't believe her. His grip tightened once more. "What? Do you think I'm a three-year-old kid?"
"Ngh... no, I don't."
'I really want to kick this man,' Leah thought. His grip was excruciating. But she knew she couldn't afford to provoke him. "I wasn't planning on taking it at first, but yesterday, I didn't think you would choose me, Young Master Keating. I didn't know... who I'd end up leaving with, so..."
'When she first saw Asher Keating, she really hadn't intended to take the drug. After all, she felt he was the cream of the crop. In her whole life, she'd never seen a more handsome man.'
'But Asher Keating had been too cold. Besides getting her a blanket at the start of the night, he'd barely said a word to her. Things being what they were, she was almost certain he wouldn't be the one to take her home.'
'She had also been trying to drink herself into a stupor—it would be better to be numb. Unfortunately, her tolerance was surprisingly high. Plus, she was technically Asher Keating's for the evening, so no matter how rowdy the others got, they didn't dare force too much alcohol on her.'
'Compared to Asher Keating, the other guys weren't that bad-looking, but Eve had warned her that those particular young masters played rough. Afraid she wouldn't be able to take it, she had found Eve midway through the evening to get the drug.'
'She had decided to just take it herself; that way, it wouldn't matter who her partner was. But who knew that Asher Keating would end up taking her home, and by some strange twist of fate, drink her wine? And then... well, last night happened.'
Asher Keating released her, but his scrutinizing gaze remained fixed on her. She didn't flinch, stubbornly staring back at him. He looked at her red-rimmed eyes, at the marks on her body, and let out a short, exasperated laugh. He never would have expected this to be the outcome.
"How much did Ethan Shaw pay for you?"
Asher Keating lit a cigarette and sat on the sofa. He didn't like to sleep around. The women who were just there to drink with them were one thing, but this was different. He had to pay for this.
It took Leah Sinclair a moment to understand his question. Her fingers tightened on the blanket.
She lowered her head, silent. Just as Asher Keating was about to lose his patience, she spoke softly, "Three hundred thousand."
Asher Keating raised an eyebrow. 'Heh. Not a huge amount, but not insignificant either.'
Afraid he would think she was lying about the price, Leah Sinclair quickly explained, "Eve said I look a little like that actress, Madeline Sterling, so..."
Asher Keating turned to look at her. In the dim light last night, he had seen a passing resemblance, but now, he didn't think she looked like her at all. He scoffed. "Look like her? They really know how to create a gimmick."
"I... I don't think we look alike either, but they all say we do."
'Leah Sinclair wanted nothing to do with a famous actress. She knew her station. Besides, she'd heard Ethan Shaw say that Madeline Sterling was apparently this Mr. Keating's unattainable love. That made her even more terrified of being associated with the woman in his presence.'
A wave of shame washed over Leah Sinclair as she spoke. She was still naked, and even though the blanket covered her, scenes from the previous night replayed endlessly in her mind.
She felt as if she were standing before him completely exposed. She unconsciously bit her lower lip, and the spot she'd bitten raw the night before throbbed with pain. The metallic taste of blood slowly filled her mouth again.
Asher Keating frowned as he watched her. She seemed to have a habit of biting her lip. He recalled how, last night, she had bitten her lip until it bled when she couldn't take the pain anymore, as if that could somehow distract from the ache elsewhere.