Chapter 2: The Bargain

Mrs. Banks’ living room was like a palace. White marble floors, glass chandeliers dripping light, and couches that looked too expensive to sit on. I stood there, my palms sweaty, my heart pounding.

Her eyes bored into me like I was a stain on her perfect floor.

“Your mother,” Mrs. Banks said, her tone sharp and cold, “was caught red-handed with my necklace. A family heirloom. Do you understand how serious this is, Celina?”

My throat tightened. “That’s not true,” I whispered, then louder, my voice cracking. “That’s not true! My mother has worked for your family for ten years without stealing a single pin from your house. She ironed your clothes, polished your silver, cooked your meals-why would she suddenly steal your necklace?”

Mrs. Banks raised a brow, unbothered, sipping from her porcelain teacup. “Sentiment doesn’t erase evidence. She had it in her possession. That’s enough.”

Tears blurred my sight, spilling before I could stop them. “Please,” I begged, my voice breaking. “She would never. She treats you like family. She prays for you every morning. My mother is innocent. Please, ma’am.”

Her lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer. “If you want her released, you’d better speak to my daughter. Naomi has… a solution.”

The way she said “solution” twisted my stomach.

I stumbled out of the mansion, half-blinded by tears, clutching my bag like it could hold me together. By the time I reached the hotel where Naomi had summoned me, my whole body felt numb.

*****

Naomi sat on a velvet armchair beside the hotel room window, the golden light from the chandelier casting a soft glow on her flawless makeup. Her silk robe shimmered with every shift of her crossed legs. She didn’t even blink.

“I’m only doing this to save my mom,” I said, my voice shaking. “Don’t act like I’m doing you a favor, Naomi Banks. I’m not helping you. I’m helping my mother.”

“That’s your business,” she replied coolly, brushing imaginary dust off her thigh. “Whether your mother gets out or not doesn’t concern me. I just want the job done. I want my fiance, as much as you want your mother. If you mess it up, maybe your dear mom stays in there longer.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, desperate not to cry. “Please, Naomi. There has to be another way. My mum didn’t steal anything…”

“She was caught with my mother’s gold in her possession,” Naomi snapped, leaning forward.

My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. “You set her up,” I whispered. “You… you planted that gold on her. You’re doing this just to hurt me…”

Naomi’s lips curved into a smirk. “Believe whatever you want. But the fact is, I’m the only one who can get her out. And my condition stands. Go to the hotel room tonight and do exactly what I tell you. Or your mother rots in jail.”

My throat closed up. “Why? Why me?”

“Because,” Naomi said, swirling her wine like we were discussing something casual and not the destruction of my life, “he wanted a virgin.”

I recoiled. “Who?”

“My fiance,” she said, her smirk deepening. “Do you want me to remind you that she’s still in police custody? Or do you prefer she spends the rest of her life in prison?”

The polished marble floor beneath me felt suddenly cold. “No. You know she can’t stay there. You know what she means to me. That’s why you’re using her. Just so I can do what you can’t. You should be ashamed,” I said.

Naomi chuckled without humor. “Ashamed? Of what? Using what I have to get what I want?”

She moved to the window, her silk robe dragging along the floor. Then she added, “No, honey. I’m not ashamed. I’m strategic. And don’t forget, at least you’re doing it for me.”

I stared at her, my chest tight. This girl… this stranger in designer robes who used to be my friend in school. We once shared powdered milk when our cupboards were empty. We whispered secrets under blankets and dreamed of freedom. And now she sat like royalty, holding my mother’s life over my head.

“If you say another word,” she said, the playful smile sliding from her face, “if you breathe too loud or act too smart, I’ll cancel the deal. I’ll get someone else. And I’ll pay them twice what I offered you.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I turned away before she could see my face break. The room spun for a second. My head pounded.

I reached for the door, my fingers trembling around the cold brass handle. When I opened it, I hesitated. She called after me, her voice sharp.

“Don’t forget, when you’re done, come back here. I’ll be waiting. And don’t mess up. He’s already drunk enough to believe anything.”

The hallway outside was long, carpeted in deep red. The walls were lined with gold-rimmed sconces and paintings of strange, abstract shapes that meant nothing to me. I walked slowly, hugging myself, trying not to cry.

It was a five-star hotel, luxurious and intimidating. Everything smelled of money, fancy perfumes, polished wood, and too much air freshener. I didn’t belong here.

Each step toward Suite 715 felt like walking to the gallows. My legs were heavy, my throat dry. I almost turned back twice, but my mother’s face kept pushing me forward.

I took a deep breath, pressing my hand to the cold brass handle. My fingers shook as I knocked.

Nothing. My stomach twisted. Knocked again, louder this time.

The door opened.

A man stood there.

Tall. Shirt half-unbuttoned. Eyes red. Staggering slightly.

He smelled like whiskey and regret.

It was Mr. Bryan Drake. 

The billionaire. 

Naomi’s fiance.

And he was looking straight at me like I was the only thing in his blurred world.