Novels by PHIL RAY

SLAP!I jolted awake, my cheek stinging from the sharp blow. Catherine stood over my bed, fully dressed in an expensive cream suit, her face twisted with disgust."Get up, you lazy cow," she hissed. "It's seven in the morning. A proper mother should already have breakfast prepared and children ready for school."I scrambled to sit up, my heart racing. Violet was still sleeping peacefully beside me, her small body curled under the blanket."I'm sorry, I didn't know…""Of course you didn't know. Whores don't know how to be mothers." Catherine's voice dripped with venom. "Get dressed. You have duties now."She threw a piece of paper at me. It fluttered to the floor like a dead leaf. "Your daily schedule. Follow it exactly, or you'll answer to me."The list was written in perfect cursive handwriting:6:30 AM - Wake up, prepare breakfast7:00 AM - Wake children, ensure they're dressed properly 7:30 AM - Serve breakfast, pack lunches8:00 AM - Drive children to school9:00 AM - Clean house

"I'll do it."The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Alexander's face didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Relief? Satisfaction? I couldn't tell."Smart choice," he said, reaching for his phone. "Marcus, bring the contracts up. Now."Contracts. Plural. My stomach twisted.Within minutes, a tall man in an expensive suit walked in carrying a briefcase. He didn't look at me, just spread papers across the coffee table like he was dealing cards."Standard marriage contract," Alexander said casually, like we were discussing the weather. "Sign where marked."I picked up the first page with shaking hands. Legal words blurred together, but some things jumped out at me. "Alexander Richie, father of three children..."My blood went cold. "You have kids?""Is that a problem?" His voice was sharp now, dangerous.I stared at the contract. Three children. What kind of woman was I becoming stepmother to? What kind of father was Alexander? But Violet's pale face flashed in my

The hospital smelled like death and disinfectant. I held Violet's tiny hand as machines beeped around us, keeping my baby alive. Her skin was paper-thin, her breathing shallow. She looked so small in that big hospital bed, like she might disappear if I blinked."Miss Carter?" The doctor's voice cut through my prayers. Dr. Martinez was a kind-faced woman, but her eyes held bad news. "We need to talk."My stomach dropped. "Is she... will she be okay?""Your daughter has acute kidney dysfunction. It's serious, but treatable. However..." She paused, and I knew what was coming. "The treatment will require immediate surgery, followed by extensive care and medication. The total cost will be approximately ten thousand dollars."Ten thousand dollars. The number hit me like a truck."I... I don't have that kind of money," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please, there has to be another way. Payment plans, charity, something..""I'm sorry, Miss Carter. Hospital policy requires fifty percent upfr

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Violet's flushed face, felt the burning heat of her fever. By morning, she was a little cooler, but still too warm. Still too quiet."I have to go," I whispered to Sarah, kissing Violet's forehead. My baby barely stirred. "I'll be back with money for the doctor. I promise."The promise tasted like ash in my mouth. How many promises had I already broken?I got to the club earlier than usual, my stomach twisted in knots. The place looked different in daylight, sadder, more desperate. Just like me.Marcus was in his office, counting last night's earnings. His gold teeth caught the fluorescent light as he looked up at me."You're early," he said, not bothering to hide his surprise. "Eager to make up for last night's disappointing performance?"I swallowed my pride. It went down like broken glass."Marcus, please," I started, my voice already cracking. "I need to ask you something."He leaned back in his chair, amused. "Oh, this should be

SWACK!The dollar bill cut across my cheek like a razor. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood where my teeth bit into my lip. The club's neon lights blurred through my tears, but I couldn't let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him."That's what you get for being slow, bitch," the man snarled like a dog, his breath reeking of whiskey and cigarettes. His fat fingers grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I paid good money for a show, not some dead fish act."The music pounded in my ears, mixing with the sound of my racing heart. Around us, other girls kept dancing like nothing happened. They'd learned the same lesson I was learning now, keep your head down, keep moving, keep surviving.My cheek burned where the bill had hit me. The sting reminded me of the last time Dad hit me, right before he threw me out. "You're nothing but a disappointment," he'd said. "Just like your mother." But this hurt worse because I chose to be here. I chose this hell.I wanted to run. I