Chapter 3

Was Derek blind? This man was the one leaning on me!

I was on the verge of tears. "What am I supposed to do now?"

Derek said, "I hate to ask, but could you help get him into the car and drive him home? Do you know how to drive?"

"Yeah, I can manage."

I was still skeptical. "You two aren't pranking me, are you? Why would I be the only one who can get close to him? What about his parents?"

Derek said, "His parents passed away years ago. His grandfather is his only family, but even he can't get near him when he's drunk."

This was absolutely insane.

I had to summon every ounce of strength I had to haul the six-foot-tall man into the car, then drive him home myself.

Afterward, Derek added me on Messenger, saying he might need me again in the future.

[Get lost! Not happening.]

Then, Derek transferred me $5,000.

I immediately broke into a smile.

[Of course. Anytime you need! Don't hesitate to call, but it'll be this rate every time.]

Two weeks later, late one evening, Derek suddenly transferred me $5,000.

"Ms. Rivera, there’s an emergency situation. I need your help. Sending you the location now.”

I followed the location to the most luxurious club in the city.

When I pushed open the private room door, I found several bigwigs I had only ever seen on television sprawled across the floor.

Soon after, ambulances arrived and whisked them all away to the hospital in a flurry.

The only person left in the room was Jackson, leaning against a wall in the corner, knife in hand. He was drunk but hyper-aware of his surroundings.

Honestly, with his bloodshot eyes and that murderous aura radiating off him, I was too terrified to get close.

My legs trembled as I quickly refunded the money.

[I can't do this. This is too much!]

Derek immediately sent me $50,000. [I get it. Different job, different rate. You need more, right?]

I really had not meant it that way. But it was $50,000! I was just an underpaid office worker. How could I resist that kind of money?

I walked right up to Jackson, all sweet and innocent.

I carefully tapped his shoulder. "Don't kill me. Put the knife down, okay?"

I genuinely did not expect him to actually listen. Jackson stared at me through bleary, drunken eyes for a long moment, then put the knife away.

The next second, his body swayed, and he collapsed straight into my arms.

Oh my God! He was so heavy. I lost my balance, and we both went crashing to the floor.

Fortunately, just before we hit the ground, he twisted around and cushioned my fall with his own body. I landed hard on top of him.

…

Outside the car, Derek was chattering away to Jackson about something, showing him videos on his phone.

It looked like footage from the previous times I had helped out.

I cracked the window open slightly and caught Derek saying, "Sir, that's the situation. I wasn't trying to hide it from you. I just haven't been able to figure out any past connection between you and Ms. Rivera. Why would you trust her so completely when you're at your most vulnerable and defensive? I was planning to report this to you once I had more answers."

Eventually, Jackson opened the car door and climbed inside. I immediately pretended I had not been eavesdropping and buried myself in my phone.

Truth be told, over these past few months, I had racked my brain trying to remember if Jackson and I had ever crossed paths before.

I drew a complete blank. He was one of the city's golden boys, born into a prestigious family with a fortune worth hundreds of millions.