CAMERON continued advancing towards Charity, while Charity kept retreating—until her back hit the sink. She knew she had nowhere else to go. She didn’t let the Cameron see how her knees slightly trembled. "C'mon, Charity. Let's satisfy ourselves," Cameron teased, now standing so close that she could almost kiss his well-defined chest. At that moment, she realized just how small she was beside him. She slowly felt a strange tightening in her stomach. Cameron gave her a feeling she couldn’t quite explain. His eyes caressed her face. "You're really innocent, Charity." He loved it whenever Charity looked at him with that innocent expression. Gosh! She loved the way Cameron said her name. "You can't hide the fact that you're attracted to me, too," he whispered. Cameron was right. At first, she was only after the money, but along the way, she found herself drawn to him. Who wouldn’t be? Especially after finding out he was the boy who had saved her six year
CHARITY woke up with an eerie feeling, as if unseen eyes were watching her. But when she opened her eyes, there was no one there. She quickly sat up and glanced at the cheap wristwatch she wore, a gift from Georgia. It was already five in the afternoon. She had slept for hours. Shaking off her drowsiness, she decided to take a walk by the beach and watch the sunset. A cool breeze brushed against her skin, making her wrap her arms around herself. She smiled, enjoying the sensation. But as she neared the water, she suddenly halted—someone was swimming in the sea. A strange fear crept over her. A stranger? That couldn’t be. Isla Silvestre was exclusive to the Silvestres, according to Servant Kim. Her anxiety faded when the swimmer emerged from the water. It was Cameron. Gosh! He is so damn gorgeous. Their eyes met as he walked toward the shore. Charity nearly gaped at the sight of him—tall, strong, and glistening with seawater. She couldn’t help but wonder what t
CHARITY groggily woke up the next morning, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar room. She furrowed her brows, trying to recall why she was there. As the events of the previous day replayed in her mind, she let out a sigh. She had made an agreement with Cameron Silvestre. Her hand instinctively brushed her lips at the thought of the kiss they had shared. It had been brief, almost fleeting, yet it lingered in her memory as if it had left a permanent mark. "That's it. We sealed the deal. You will bear my child, Charity." Cameron’s voice echoed in her mind as she remembered his words after the kiss. He had walked away so nonchalantly, leaving her utterly stunned. Charity never imagined herself in such a situation, but desperation to escape her struggles had led her here. It’s too late for her to regret getting into the situation she's trapped in. A soft knock broke her thoughts. “Miss Charity, please prepare. We will leave in thirty minutes,” came the voice of Ser
CHARITY was no longer comfortable with her blindfold as she stood alongside six other women. Before they alighted from the vehicle earlier, they were blindfolded, leaving her with no idea where they were now. A wave of anxiety gripped her chest as conflicting emotions surged through her. Was the process really so strict that they had to blindfold them to prevent them from seeing or remembering the way? Maybe I should regret my decision… She silently conversed with herself. She tugged down her black dress slightly, which had ridden up her rounded thighs. It hugged her figure tightly, emphasizing her curves. She silently cursed Georgia for choosing this dress and cutting her hair short, now barely brushing her shoulders. "You may now remove your blindfolds, ladies," a man—one of the Silvestre staff attending to them—spoke firmly. They carefully removed their blindfolds, revealing a room with a stunning red-and-white interior design. Charity's at
THE loud banging on her apartment door jolted Charity awake the next morning. She quickly got up, her senses instantly alert. Could it be her landlady? But really, at six in the morning? Charity hurried to the door and carefully opened it. It wasn’t her landlady, but her aunt, whose face was a mixture of irritation and impatience. Beside her was her cousin, wearing the same sour expression. “Charity! Do you even know what day it is? Have you forgotten the support you’re supposed to send us?!” her aunt barked. Charity clenched her fists discreetly, holding back the surge of emotions. She forced herself to stay calm, reminding herself of the debt she owed the woman in front of her. After all, this was the person who took her in after her parents died in an accident. A kindness that now felt like a lifetime debt she’d never finish repaying. “I-I’m sorry, Auntie. I lost my job recently, so I couldn’t send the money. I’m heading out today to look for work,” she
AFTER SIX YEARS... CHARITY was on the dance floor of a nightclub, swaying wildly to the pounding rhythm. She paid no mind to the sweat dripping from her forehead or her hair messily sticking to her face. "Whoo!" she shouted, punctuating the moment with a headbang. Who would’ve thought that the woman dancing like her life depended on it had lost her job that very day? For Charity, the dance floor was a sanctuary—a place to throw her frustrations into the void. "I'm sorry, Charity. The restaurant has been struggling for several months now, and I really need to let some of my people go. Sadly, you're one of them." It was as if Mr. Oca's words echoed once again in her ears. This made her seem even wilder on the dance floor, as if trying to ease her sadness over losing her job. “Girl, sit down! I’m out of breath!” Milet, her friend, called out over the music. Milet had insisted on treating her to a night out—a luxury Charity could never afford