Chapter 2: The Price

Gaea

I lay flat on my stomach, my chin resting on the back of my hand as I stared at my laptop screen.

Still blank.

Not a single word.

The blinking cursor felt like it was mocking me—each second dragging, each silent beat reminding me that I was failing again.

Again.

I closed my eyes.

And just like that—

He appeared.

Clyden.

That smirk.

Those eyes—sharp, knowing, almost dangerous.

The way he looked at me that night… like he already understood me. Like he saw something in me I hadn’t even discovered yet.

Like I already belonged in his story instead of mine.

“Hey, beautiful lady! You’ve been doing that for a week now.”

I flinched, my eyes snapping open as Samantha’s voice cut through the silence.

“Just call him already!”

I groaned and turned away from the laptop.

Before I could respond, something lightly brushed my arm.

I looked down.

Clyden’s business card.

I picked it up instinctively, my fingers tracing the smooth edges as I stared at his name printed in bold, sharp letters.

For a moment, I said nothing.

Then I placed it beside my laptop.

No matter how attractive he was…

No matter how dangerously he lingered in my thoughts…

I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t just give him my body like it was some kind of exchange.

I wasn’t that desperate.

…Was I?

I shook my head, forcing the thought away.

I could find inspiration somewhere else.

I always did.

I used to write just fine without a man.

“Yeah, because you had a boyfriend back then!”

My head snapped toward Samantha, my eyebrow lifting immediately.

“Are you reading my mind now?”

She grinned without shame.

“Please. After living together this long? I already know what’s going on inside your head.”

I rolled my eyes, sitting up slightly.

“Fine. You win, Goddess Samantha—”

My words were cut off when my phone suddenly rang.

Sharp.

Insistent.

I grabbed it quickly.

And froze.

My editor.

“Who is it?” Samantha asked, frowning.

I raised a finger, signaling her to stay quiet before answering.

“Hello?”

“Gaea Montessori! Do you still plan on being a Romance writer?”

I winced, pulling the phone slightly away as Cybel’s voice exploded through the speaker.

We had worked together for years. She wasn’t just my editor—she was my reality check.

Which meant she never softened the truth.

“Answer me! Do you know how many times Sir Ricky has been complaining about you?”

I let out a small, tired laugh, lying back on the bed.

“I’m trying, Cy,” I said quietly. “I just… can’t build a proper scene right now. Can you stall him a little longer?”

“I already did,” she replied, her tone lowering. “That’s why you only have one week left. There are new writers coming in every day, Gaea. You know how this industry works.”

I swallowed hard.

Replaceable.

That was the word hanging between her silence and mine.

“I’ll send you a manuscript next week,” I said anyway, forcing confidence into my voice that I didn’t feel.

A pause.

Then—

“Well, that’s great!” she said, brightening instantly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The call ended.

Silence returned.

But it didn’t feel empty anymore.

It felt heavier.

Samantha appeared beside me again, holding out Clyden’s business card with a mischievous grin.

“Tell me if that handsome guy tastes good—”

“Watch your mouth, Sam!”

She laughed and walked out like she had just dropped a bomb and enjoyed the explosion.

I stared at the card again.

Then closed my eyes.

Thinking.

My job.

My deadline.

My empty manuscript.

And him.

Slowly, I reached for my phone.

“…Hello,” I said softly when the call connected.

My heart was already beating too fast.

“Can I talk to you?”

A pause.

“Who is this?”

His voice.

Low. Deep. Controlled.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“It’s Gaea,” I said quickly. “I hope you remember me. I’m the writer who—”

I stopped.

Why was this suddenly harder than writing itself?

“The one who… you know…”

“So,” he interrupted smoothly, almost amused, “have you decided about my offer?”

I swallowed.

And nodded even though he couldn’t see it.

“…Yes.”

Even if I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to.

“I have something to do,” he said. “If you want to talk, come to the address I’ll send you.”

“Wait—”

The line went dead.

I stared at my phone.

Unbelievable.

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to throw it across the room.

Instead, I stood up and walked to the bathroom.

“Gaea, where are you going?” Samantha called.

“I have somewhere to be later, Sam—”

“You’re going to see Mr. Handsome, aren’t you?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Make sure you look pretty! Oh—and your Shopee order arrived. I left it on your bed!”

The door closed.

Silence again.

I turned on the shower.

Cold water hit my skin.

And suddenly—

It felt like something had already started counting down.

—

“Miss? Are you sure you’re here for Sir Clyden?”

The receptionist looked at me like I didn’t belong there.

I forced myself to nod, showing her the message on my phone.

She checked her screen.

Then hesitated.

“Yes, ma’am, but—”

“She’s my guest.”

My heart jumped.

I turned.

Clyden was already behind me.

Too close.

Too silent.

Like he had always been there.

“Good evening, sir,” the receptionist greeted quickly.

He didn’t respond.

He just grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the elevator.

I stumbled slightly, trying to keep up.

Whispers followed us.

“She looks too young for him.”

“She’s pretty though.”

“Let them be.”

My neck burned.

I scratched it awkwardly, stealing a glance at him.

I might look small…

But I’m twenty-five.

“Clyden—sir…” I started carefully. “Can we not make my body the payment?”

My voice softened.

“I can work for you instead. Assistant. Writer. Anything—”

My words died.

He suddenly pinned me against the elevator wall.

My breath caught.

His eyes studied me like I was a problem he was deciding how to solve.

“I already have plenty of assistants,” he said casually.

His fingers brushed my cheek.

Slow.

Deliberate.

My pulse spiked.

I was about to push him away—

When his phone rang.

The moment broke.

He stepped back slightly.

“Come back when you’ve made your decision.”

Something inside me snapped.

Before he could answer, I grabbed his phone.

He reached for it—

But I shoved it inside my bra.

Silence.

Even the elevator seemed to freeze.

“What are you doing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I forced a shaky laugh.

“I’ll give it back when you agree to my terms—ahh!”

He pulled me forward.

Too fast.

Too close.

My breath hitched when his gaze dropped—

Straight to my chest.

My face burned.

“What are you planning?” I snapped. “Don’t tell me you’re—ugh, you jerk!”

“So soft,” he murmured.

Everything in me froze.

I slapped his hand away instantly and pulled the phone out, shoving it back at him.

“What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t even blink.

“Your husband will touch them eventually anyway.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

“Are you my husband?” I shot back. “Are you going to take responsibility for me?”

For a moment—

He just looked at me.

Then he smiled.

“If that’s what you want…” he said slowly, “why not?”

The elevator doors opened.

He grabbed my wrist again and pulled me out.

I stumbled after him, breath uneven, thoughts scattered.

And as I looked at his back—

Tall.

Unbothered.

Dangerous—

One thought echoed louder than the rest.

How did I end up here?

And worse—

Why did it feel like I wasn’t supposed to leave?