Mr. Li’s gaze flicked up the moment CeCe stepped back into the lounge. His smirk was exactly as she had left it, calculated and expectant.

  “Took your time.” He mused as he leaned back in his seat.

  CeCe offered a small smile. “Well, a lady should be allowed a moment to freshen up, right?”

  “Of course.” He chuckled and then without missing a beat, another glass of wine appeared before her.

  Her lips parted then closed just as quickly. Hesitation flickering in her eyes.

  “You’re not slowing down on me now, are you?” His tone, light and teasing. “We were having such a good time.”

  “I think I’ve had enough for now.”

  But Hanson didn’t move the glass away. If anything he leaned in slightly, his gaze sharpening and with a raised brow he said.

  “Oh, come on, girlie. Humor me.”

  CeCe could feel the weight of his stare as her fingers hovered over the stem of the glass. Her grip tighten but with a soft smile, she lifted it to her lips.

  “Another round for our lovely girl.”

  The liquor burned through her veins, making the room tilt ever so slightly. She barely registered the glass being set before her. Her limbs felt sluggish, her thoughts dulled at the edges. But despite the blur in her hazy surroundings, she still saw it.

  In a flick of movement, a small vial appeared in Hanson's hand. He tipped it ever so slightly, leting a colorless liquid slip into her drink.

  Her stomach turned to ice.

  CeCe looked up at Hanson Li, her breath hitching. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet. He knew what she was here for. He knew she wasn’t going to refuse.

  She thought she understood. Thought she had accepted it. But the truth was, she had never truly grasped the weight of despair. Until now.

  But just as CeCe's fingers brushed the glass, a firm hand suddenly closed over hers.

  “Don’t drink that.”

  Her head snapped up, words catching in her throat as if trapped between surprise and doubt.

  “You—”

  Philip Benedict Garcia stood before her, composed and unruffled as he slowly slid the glass away from her hand. His deep eyes flicking towards the drink before settling on her.

  His expression was unreadable but something about the weight of his gaze made her throat dry.

  Hanson Li stood up in a servile manner. The barely concealed disdain from moments ago was gone as he looked at Philip.

  “Mr. Garcia, I didn’t know you were acquainted with this… lady.”

  “I’ll take her with me. You don’t mind, do you?”

  The sharp look in his eyes made it clear— this wasn’t a request.

  “Of course not, of course not. Please.”

  Philip turned, expecting her to follow.

  But CeCe just sat there motionless as if rooted to the chair. Her fingers curled uselessly in her lap.

  Philip glanced back, his gaze settling on her. Not impatient nor irritated. Just… seeing.

  “Come on, follow me.”

  Hearing his calm voice CeCe rose without thinking. Moving as if she's guided by an invisible strings, like a marionette.

  Her thoughts swirled— confused, sad and relieved. She hated herself a little. Hated the choices that had led her here. She truly wasn’t the smartest. Her own decisions had proved it now.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The elevator doors slid shut.

  CeCe stood beside him, her judgment creeping back in. Just a little. She's following a man she barely knew, walking away from a disaster she had brought upon herself. Why?

  She cast a sidelong glance at Philip.

  Tall. Broad-shouldered. Crisp suit.

  His presence was effortless, yet absolute. Even with his relaxed posture, something about him made the space feel smaller. It's like he controlled the very air in the room.

  Her gaze flickered upward to his eyes which reminded her of a whiskey.

  The elevator chimed.

  Philip stepped out then she followed.

  ***

  CeCe sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the massive suite before her. The city lights glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows but her thoughts were on the man who had just left her in this room.

  Philip Benedict Garcia.

  She had followed him here. Willingly. Without question.

  A sane woman would have learned her lesson tonight. A sane woman would have realized she wasn’t cut out for this. But CeCe? She had the self-preservation instincts of a moth to a flame, fluttering closer despite the danger.

  Her hands clenched into fists.

  She had paid too much to be in this situation. Literally. The only reason she even considered a party like that was because she was desperate. Cooper’s operation still loomed over her like a guillotine waiting to drop.

  That thought snapped her back into focus.

  Her resolve that was momentarily broken awhile back, rebuilt itself from the ruins.

  Philip was different from Hanson Li

  He wasn’t some balding, self-important creep who couldn't even be bothered to remember someone's name and acted like money made him untouchable. Philip was young, successful and effortlessly charismatic. If she was going to sell herself, shouldn’t it at least be to someone of his calibre?

  And besides… she was already here. Might as well make the best of it.

  Right?

  The worst that could happen was Philip throwing her out. She could handle that. Probably.

  She nodded to herself as if trying to solidify her shaky confidence. Alright. Let’s do this.

  First step: a bath.

  She disappeared into the lavish bathroom, taking her time with the rose-scented soaps and warm water, letting the stress of the night melt away. By the time she emerged her skin was flushed, her hair damp and her determination renewed!

  Second step: the outfit.

  Or rather, the lack of it.

  She hesitated for only a moment before dropping the towel and slipping under the silk covers. This was the part where she waited. The part where Philip would walk in, see her and—

  Any minute now.

  She shifted under the sheets.

  Any. Minute. Now.

  The clock ticked.

  She turned onto her side, staring at the door.

  Nothing.

  Her fingers tapped against the pillow.

  Still nothing.

  Her stomach twisted. She wasn’t nervous, not exactly. Just… anticipating.

  She would hear footsteps soon. Then the door would open and Philip would—

  The silence stretched.

  CeCe sat up, still holding the silk sheet around her body. The adjacent door leading to what she assumed was a study or another part of the suite, remained shut.

  Was he even in there?

  Her lips pressed into a thin line. After a long moment, she huffed, flopped onto her back, arms spread out dramatically as she stared at the ceiling.

  Fine. She’d wait.

  The air-conditioning hummed softly and now that she wasn’t fueled by pure delusion, she realized she was cold.

  Unbearably cold.

  The kind of cold that seeped into her bones and made her question every life choice that had led her here.

  But did she get dressed? No.

  Did she grab a thick blanket like a normal person? Also no.

  Because that would mean admitting defeat.

  So instead, she wrapped herself up in the silk bedsheets turning herself into an expensive, shivering burrito waiting for a man who clearly had better things to do.

  It was past midnight when she lost the battle. At some point she dozed off, her determination fading into the comfort of the expensive mattress.

  Meanwhile, in the adjacent study, Philip stood by the floor-to-ceiling window staring at the vast city skyline.

  His unfocused, hazel eyes flickered like gold in the dim light, catching the glow of the city beyond the window. But his thoughts were elsewhere, drawn to the detailed report glowing on his laptop screen where CeCe’s name was barely visible.

  After a long moment he blinked as if pulling himself back to the present. His fingers flexed at his sides before he ran a hand down on his face, exhaling softly.

  Philip’s expression remained unreadable as he turned away from the window and reached for his phone.

  The line rang once before it connected.

  Philip tapped his fingers against the edge of the desk. Then in a steady voice without hesitation he said,

  “Prepare the check.”

  ***

  Morning came.

  Warm sunlight spilled through the curtains casting a golden glow across CeCe’s face. She stirred, stretching under the silk sheets. Her lashes fluttered and for a moment, she simply lay there, staring at the ceiling in confusion.

  Then she remembered.

  Her gaze darted to the side.

  The space beside her was empty. The room was silent.

  There was no one.

  Her lips parted slightly as a strange emotion coiled in her chest, an emotion she didn’t have the energy to name.

  Then her gaze swept over the nightstand and that was when she saw it.

  A single check.

  She reached for it, her fingers brushing against the crisp paper hesitantly.

  She stared at the amount.

  A lump formed in her throat as something tight and unfamiliar is pressing against her chest.

  No note. No explanation.

  Just the check.

  She gripped it harder. The numbers blurring as silent tears slid down her cheeks.

  CeCe did not cry.

  Not when the world collapsed around her. Not when she had learned the cost of survival.

  But now...

  Her grip tightening on the check as she exhaled shakily.

  It feels like a part of her had been drowning in the dark for so long, struggling, gasping only for an unseen hand to pull her up.

  Her shoulders shook. A breathless, broken laugh slipped from her lips as more tears followed.

  In that moment CeCe made a decision.

  She would be Philip’s sugar baby!