Chapter 3

Joan’s POV

“And who the hell are you to interfere? Do you know who my father is?!” Isobel shrieked.

But her bravado was empty. Behind her, Priya and the rest of her minions were already shrinking back. Even Isobel’s massive bodyguards looked paralyzed, completely terrified by the man who had just stepped into the light.

The stranger looked at Isobel with unadulterated disgust. He cut his gaze to her guards, his expression so lethal that none of them dared to breathe, let alone make a move.

“Your father will be deeply disappointed to see his only princess acting like a savage in public,” he said, his voice dripping with a cold, quiet fury.

The authority in his tone was absolute. Before I could even process what was happening, Isobel, her entourage, and her guards completely vanished from the VIP lounge, scurrying away like ghosts.

The stranger wasted no time. He slipped off his tailored suit coat and draped it over my shivering shoulders, the rich fabric immediately sealing out the chill. Before my weak knees could give out, he bent down and lifted me effortlessly into his arms. The intoxicating scent of his woodsmoke cologne swept over me, anchoring my spinning mind as he turned a dark look toward my boss and Tobias.

“Next time you allow spoiled brats to bully innocent people under your roof, I can’t promise your club will still be standing by morning,” he threatened. He didn't wait for Mr. McCall to stammer an apology. “Send the bill for the shattered champagne to my account. All three million of it.”

With that, he carried me straight out of the club. We stepped into the howling December night, the freezing wind biting at my face, before we stopped in front of his car—a sleek, jet-black sports car that screamed pure luxury.

He gently placed me in the passenger seat and walked around to the driver's side. The door clicked shut, locking out the storm.

“I’ll be needing your address,” he said. He gripped the steering wheel, his piercing silver-gray eyes fixing on me as he watched the tears freely track down my bruised cheeks.

I felt bile rise in my throat. There was no point in giving him an address. In short, I didn’t have a home anymore. Rita had made it brutally clear: if I didn't bring back the remaining ninety-five thousand dollars to match the five thousand she took, I shouldn't bother coming back at all.

“Did something happen?” he questioned, his voice dropping lower, more intense. “Is it about what happened in the club?”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I couldn't speak. How could I possibly explain my reality to a man like him? He had just casually volunteered to pay three million dollars for a broken bottle without blinking. How could I now turn around and ask this total stranger to lend me ninety-five thousand dollars? It made absolutely no sense. It was humiliating.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly.

Slowly, I turned my head, his oversized suit coat slipping off my shoulder.

He leaned in closer, the scent of his rich woodsmoke cologne filling my senses. His thumb brushed against my jawline, terrifyingly gentle as he tilted my face up. When his fingers grazed the raw, torn skin where Isobel and Rita had struck me, I winced in pain.

“You’re shivering, and you're bleeding,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “And you look like a girl who has nowhere left to run. So I’m going to ask you one more time—”

“I need you to sleep with me in exchange for a hundred thousand dollars.”

The words tumbled out of my mouth before my brain could stop them. Panic flared hot in my chest, and I instantly squeezed my eyes shut, clenching my fists until my nails bit painfully into my palms. 

The silence inside the car was deafening. When I finally forced my eyes open, trembling, I didn’t see a man looking at me with predatory hunger.

Instead, the stranger was calmly opening a compact first-aid kit. The interior light of the car cast a soft glow over his sharp features as he unscrewed a small bottle of antiseptic, carefully dabbing a dark amber liquid onto a piece of sterile cotton wool.

“You have blood on your face,” he said, his voice entirely even, devoid of judgment. “We should treat that first.”

He leaned across the console, his movements remarkably gentle for a man of his size. I held my breath, seething silently through the stinging pain as he gingerly wiped away the dried blood and dirt where my skin had peeled from the brutal succession of slaps. 

Every touch of the cotton was a sharp reminder of Rita and Isobel’s cruelty, but his hands never faltered. Finally, he pressed a neat bandage to the peeled part, his fingers lingering for a fraction of a second before he smoothly retracted into his own seat.

“You can leave,” he said.

The warmth in the car vanished. His face was a mask of cold stone, his jaw set in a rigid, unyielding line. I knew exactly why. It was the shameless proposition I had just hurled at him.

I glanced desperately at my wristwatch. It was already past 1:00 AM, the dead of night. There was absolutely no way Tobias could pull a miracle out of his sleeve and get that kind of money to me before dawn. 

My mother’s warning echoed like a death sentence in my head: the landlord would be standing at our door tomorrow morning. If the money wasn't there, she would throw me to the wolves.

This man was my absolute last option. I had to make him do it.

“I can’t,” I cried out, the dam finally breaking as tears spilled over the fresh bandage. “I have nowhere to go, please! I just need a hundred thousand dollars... I don’t mind sleeping with you. I'll do whatever you want.”

The stranger didn't even look up as he pulled out a sleek, latest-model iPhone. “Give me your account details,” he commanded flatly.

A sudden, sharp spike of pride and desperation flared inside me, and I shook my head fiercely. I couldn't just take it. I was certain I had lost my job at Lux Club tonight anyway. With everything that had happened, I don’t think my boss would take me back. 

I couldn't bear the crushing weight of being a charity case again, of taking a handout from a god who lived in a completely different universe. I needed this to be a transaction. I needed to give him the only thing of value I had left.

“Can you do that after... after you’re done sleeping with me?” I stammered, my voice cracking.

“Call out your account details,” he repeated, his tone sharpening, his eyes still fixed entirely on his phone screen, completely ignoring my desperation.

In a blind haze of panic, I violently tore at my seatbelt, freeing myself. In the heat of the moment, before he could even register my movement, I leaned across the gear shift, grabbed his chiseled face with my trembling hands, and crashed my lips hard against his.

I would rather sleep with him than take the money for free. I would rather lose my virginity tonight than let him walk away without taking something from me. After all, my body was the only currency I had left to pay him back.

“Hey—”

With an iron grip, he instantly caught my wrists, hauling me back. His chest was rising and falling, his warm breath fanning across my face as he held me firmly at a distance. 

I stared at him in total shock, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. This was the first time in my entire twenty years of life that I had ever kissed a guy, let alone attempted to be intimate with one.

His silver-gray eyes darkened into something terrifyingly intense, swirling with a dangerous emotion I couldn't read.

“You don’t know what you are doing, little Kitty,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, warning growl that vibrated straight through my bones. “I will give you the one hundred thousand dollars you asked for. Just give me the details.”

“No! I need you to make love to me.” I screamed, a sob tearing through my throat.

Yanking my hands out of his grip with a sudden burst of frantic strength, I threw myself forward again, recklessly crushing my lips against his, desperate to drown out the rest of the world.