Chapter 6

Apollo was downstairs when Iris flew by, tying down her jacket. "Going somewhere, Miss?" He let his hand slide down to his side respectfully. 

"Yes, get me the keys to the Benz; I have to be somewhere." 

"Somewhere, by yourself?" Apollo was surprised. Iris did not go out late at night, yet here she was- answering as if it was unimportant. 

"Club 45. It seems my donor is out there letting loose. We can't have that, can we?" Her gaze was piercing. 

"I'll take you," Apollo said. 

"I didn't ask. Stay and watch Charlotte." 

"Your sister is not going anywhere. Forgive me, Miss Iris, but I insist on coming." 

Iris stared at his father's loyal guard, crinkling up a mocking grin. "You have twenty minutes to get me there." Getting a reaction out of him was uncommon. It was best to enjoy it while it lasted. 

At Club 45 

'Drink! Drink! Drink!' 

The group chanted wildly. One of the guys held Jake's nose as his mouth suffered the abuse. For nearly thirty minutes, Jake guzzled down any liquid shoved at him- all for a bet orchestrated by his workmates. 

The day started with Larry hinting at an outing planned for the night. "You can't miss this one, Name. The whole department will be there. Well- the interns, I mean." 

Jake had gotten away with such gatherings before, but not this time. Larry went on and on about bonding with their workmates. He also hit Jake with the 'you only live once' adage. When the night turned blue-black, Larry begged Jake to be his wingman in case he got drunk and couldn't drive. 

"I haven't seen you party, go out for air or get laid. What are you? A priest?" Larry was persistent. 

Eventually, peer pressure won. Jake wore a simple outfit and went to Club 45 with his latest roommate. It was little he could do; to show that their friendship ran both ways. 

This was a new environment altogether. Jake felt like a square peg in a round hole. He did not fit in with the boisterous crowd and their idea of having a good time. It was like stepping into sin city without the bloodshed. 

Club 45 doubled as a strip club and lounge. Jake did not have the time to learn about such places since he was used to working day and night. It was an awkward period of forced conversations and naked women swinging their goods in his face.

Larry tried to end the drinking game when Jake wobbled after five shots of strong vodka. The deal was that whoever lost the bet would accept a private lap dance- a condition Jake wanted to avoid for reasons best known to him. Larry knew there was no way Jake could win this because the opponent was a hardened alcoholic with a high tolerance. 

 Larry tactically stood between Jake and the others. "Guys, that's enough. He's wasted."

"What are you, his mum? Jake is a man; he can take it. If not, then he must accept the lap dance." Oliver, another intern, pulled Jake from behind. 

"What?" A tipsy Jake muttered. With a lack of physical orientation, he forgot where to put his foot. The others were so invested in his experience they paid a bouncer to take a secret video. 

"Don't worry, man, we paid extra bucks to make this a special occasion," Oliver spoke with a broad grin, patting Jake hard on the back as he was coerced into a private cubicle. 

Poor Jake was left to his fate without a clue of what was happening around him. His senses were drowned by loud music, his body experienced vibrations from the bass. He was in a different dimension when the exotic danger came in, almost naked. 

"Hold on..." His words were barely audible when what the others called 'fun' began. His blood was hot, his gut churning from the excess alcohol in his system. Jake hissed when his crotch was pressed down by a striper's powder-smooth behinds. As she spun around and mounted him, he was tempted to watch her flexible body bend and shake. 

There were some noises in the background, which he did not take note of. He tried to keep his eyes open when another lady walked in, fully covered. Her face was blurry, but Jake recognized a Breton cap on her head, which he thought looked sexy with that modest jacket. 

"There's two of you? No one said anything...about two dancers." Jake's speech was slurred. 

 Iris stood in front of Jake, perplexed. One look from her sends the stripper doubling out of the room.

"How foolish can you be?" Iris held Jake's jaw, examining him nonchalantly. The young man was too far gone to give a better response.

The Amery heiress turned to her guard. "You know what to do," she said. Apollo was as blank as he could be, but his mind was riled as he picked Jake up. Following closely, Iris secures her identity by blending in with the crowd. 

"What are you doing?" Iris raised a brow when Apollo dragged Jake to the back of the car.

"Putting him in the booth, Ma'am. He reeks of alcohol."

"He sits with me," Iris answered. They were in a VVIP parking lot, but that did not exempt them from being surveyed by the CCTV cameras.

"..." With a clenched jaw and a nod, Apolo obeyed. 

 

**

It was the world outside that woke Jake up the following morning. Balcony doors were wide open, allowing the bustle and noise of cars to disturb the enclosure. Jake sat up. One side of his head throbbed mysteriously while the other stung like he had sustained needle wounds. Overall his throat was dry, and his eyes refused to work for a few seconds. 

At last, when his senses began functioning as they should, he discovered that he had been kidnapped- or reappeared in a strange environment—a classy one. 

"You're awake." 

Jake jolted, startled by the strong voice echoing from one corner of the room. He immediately looks left, and the outcome stuns him out of bed. It was his boss! 

"I suppose the alcohol wiped your memory clean." 

"Miss Amery."

"Why drink when you cannot hold your liquor?" Iris tilted her head as she stirred a tiny teacup with a spoon. "You made my bodyguard angry last night. He had to take his favourite suite to the dry cleaners, thanks to you." 

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. Wait, how did I get..." 

"I brought you here." Iris relaxed in her seat, taking a good sip to start her day. "I knew where you were and went there on time to rescue you. Does that scare you?" 

"Rescue...me?" Jake's memory was foggy.

"Was I not clear about not being permitted to drink or smoke? Must I add a curfew to it?" 

"Is this a dream?" Jake took a step back, puzzled by the situation. Soon a laugh brewed in his cheeks. "It's a dream, right? Haha! Of course, there is no way my scary boss would seek me out." Jake turned around. "I'm going to lie down, close my eyes and wake up in the right room."

"You think that I'm scary?" Iris stuck out her neck. Jake, on the other hand, was more interested in getting back to the real world. Glancing at the table, Iris picks one of the cups and hurls it hard at him. She did not miss. 

"Auch! What was that for?" Jake crouched, checking the back of his head for blood. Only then did he notice the macho man standing at the other end of the room; so stiff, Jake mistook him for a statue. 

"This is not a dream, Jake Name. You are one step away from getting back on my bad side. Now, sit. We have a lot to discuss." Iris was stern. 

As Jake slowly pinned his glutes to the chair across the round table, a memory flicked through his mind. The blue Breton cap hiding Iris' hair looked familiar. Again his attention shifted to the blue-black folder resting beside the breakfast tray. 

"I have a proposal for you, Jake." Iris put down the beverage and looked Jake straight in the eye. "In that folder is a contract. A fully furnished mansion and five million dollars await if you sign it."

"A contract? What is this about?" Jake chuckled nervously. What could Iris possibly want in exchange for all that? Did she need a hitman, a spy, his left kidney? What was the catch? 

"It's nothing sketchy or dangerous. You only have to lend me your body."

"What?" Jake's eyes bulged widely at what that statement could mean. 

"Oh gracious, get your head out of the gutters." Iris swung her neck in another direction, but in the next breath, she got back on track. "I will give you all that is written in the contract in exchange for your seeds."

"My seeds?" Jake pointed at himself to be sure Iris was not speaking about another Jake.

"Must I spell it out for you? I need a donor for procreation purposes."

"Wait, let me get this straight...you want me to assist you in making a baby?" Jake slowly took the folder to check its contents. 

"That is correct." Iris nodded. "There are some clauses you must take note of. If I do conceive and bear a child, you will have no association with it; neither can you lay any claim whatsoever. A breach of this will have dire consequences on you."

"Hah!" Jake suddenly felt short of air. The hangover must have been waiting in the corner for this overwhelming news to smash him in the head again. Jake massaged his temple, finding it hard to digest everything. It was a well-planned offer indeed.  

Iris was impatient for a response. In the past, her donors did not skim through the contract twice as long as there were six figures involved. "So what's it going to be, Mister Name? Do you agree to be the paternal donor of my baby?"