Emily Carter’s biggest flaw in this life? Trusting the wrong people.
Right now, she was curled up in bed, clutching the covers tightly to her chest. Underneath, she had absolutely nothing on—every kiss mark on her body, every aching muscle told the whole story.
All she did was take a sip of water that witch handed her last night—and bam, lights out.
The only thing she vaguely remembered was some guy’s heavy breathing in the dark.
And now, that man was right in front of her, calm as ever, buttoning up his shirt like nothing happened.
Grinding her teeth, Emily snapped, “Don’t you have anything to say?”
He turned around, giving her a cold glance with those deep-set eyes, and silently tossed a check onto the bed.
Emily glanced at the number, her chest rising and falling. “That’s it?”
The man’s voice was low, with a sharp edge. “How much do you want?”
In his eyes, she was just another gold digger who tried to seduce him for money.
If it weren’t for that setup last night, he wouldn’t have even touched her. Honestly, he thought she was beneath him. But then he found out she was still a virgin—guess those people really went all in. This check was just his way of “paying her off.”
She got what she wanted, right? And those people who pushed her into this surely wouldn’t treat her badly.
But seeing the disgust in his eyes, Emily felt like she was going to explode. She was the victim here! She was tricked, and yet this guy still acted so high and mighty?
“I want a proper explanation! What's going on between you and Chloe Thompson? Are you sleeping with her? I'm calling the cops for rape!”
Isaac Blackwell let out a short laugh like she’d just told the funniest joke in the world.
“Be my guest.”
Then he turned and walked out. Just as he stepped away, a scream came from the room behind him—loud, raw, heart-wrenching.
A faint smirk tugged at Isaac’s lips. He had to admit—she was stunning. Just… a bit too clueless.
Fuming, Emily stormed straight to the bar. “Chloe Thompson, get your ass out here!”
It was broad daylight and the place wasn’t even open yet, but she knew Chloe lived upstairs.
Chloe strolled out slowly in a silky lavender nightgown, dripping confidence and seduction with every step.
They both worked at the bar, but not exactly the same way. Emily was just your average bartender. Chloe? Everyone knew she offered... "extra services," despite her waitress title.
Emily had been strapped for cash when she first met Chloe, who introduced her to the job. It was tiring, sure, but the pay was decent. She’d trusted her.
So when Chloe handed her water last night, she didn’t think twice.
Now look what happened.
Chloe flopped lazily onto the couch, lit up a slim pink cigarette, and looked at her with amusement.
“Well hey, Emily, you’re early. We’re not even open yet.”
“Cut the crap! What did you do to me last night?!”
“What do you mean, ‘do to you’? Emily, I seriously don’t get what you’re talking about.”
“You drugged me! You dumped me into a stranger’s bed!”
“Wow, harsh. Don’t go blaming me for your bad decisions.”
“You think I’m lying? I drank that water you gave me and passed out! I woke up in some random place—naked!”
Just thinking about that guy’s face made her want to scream.
Chloe exhaled a puff of smoke, laughing. “Really? You were downing drinks all night like water. Maybe you just got too wasted. Where you wake up isn't my problem. Honestly, Emily, I thought you were all sweet and innocent, but now it looks like you just wanted to climb some rich guy’s bed. Don’t worry though—been there, done that. No need to fake innocence with me. So, how was he? Good, huh?”
