Chapter 7: Escaped, But not free

I tore myself away from the bed, and the relief that rushed through me was so sharp it almost hurt. Behind me, Gerald was begging.

I pretended not to hear him. My hands trembled as I snatched up the briefcase and pulled it open. The cash was still there, clean and untouched. I stared at it, my chest tightening. It was my own money, and he had tried to turn it into a price for my body.

The thought made me feel sick.

"Emilia, you can't just leave me here," Gerald said, scrambling off the bed. "I'll talk to Rui. I'll make him take you back." When I didn't answer, his voice sharpened. "Stop playing deaf. I mean what I said."

Something inside me snapped. I turned to face him, and my voice came out steadier than I felt.

"Rui has already made his decision, and I don't need your help. Did you hear yourself? You want me to give you something in return for my own money."

His face twisted, and he began to shout. I didn't wait to hear what he said. There was no time to change, so I ran in the silk dress, clutching the briefcase to my chest.

"Emilia!"

My heels struck the floor in a frantic rhythm as I raced down the corridor. His voice grew fainter with every step, until my own name sounded like it belonged to someone else. "Don't cry," I told myself. "Not here." But my eyes burned anyway.

Then I rounded a corner and nearly collided with a man in a black suit. A thin wire curled from behind his ear. At first I took him for hotel security, but his suit was too sharp and he stood too still, like a man waiting for orders.

I tried to slip past him.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you the lady who came with Mr. Gerald? Ms. Emilia?"

My stomach dropped.

"No," I said, with all the confidence I could fake.

I kept walking, but he called out, "Wait."

My feet stopped before my mind could decide. I squeezed my eyes shut. What is he going to ask now? And how does he know my name?,Every instinct screamed at me to run, but running would only make me look guilty. Slowly, I turned around.

"I must say," he said, smiling widely, "you look elegant in that dress."

His smile made my skin crawl. The dress felt suddenly like a confession.

"Thank you," I replied, forcing my lips into a smile.

To my relief, that was all he said, and he let me pass.

By the time I reached the lobby, my knees were weak. Every eye turned toward me. It was the dress, I knew. I could almost hear the word "prostitute"ringing in their minds, and the shame burned from my neck to my cheeks.

I'm not. I'm just a woman who trusted the wrong person.

I kept my head high and hurried out. I had parked far from the hotel on purpose, so no one could recognize or trace me. Now I was grateful for it, though the distance had never felt so long. I was halfway there when I glanced back and froze.

That same bodyguard was coming out of the entrance. His eyes found me, and he started walking faster.

"Hey!"

His voice was deep and stern. My fingers went numb around the handle of the briefcase.If Gerald sent him after me, he won't let me go.

I wanted to run to my car and speed away, but I couldn't. If he saw it, Gerald would trace me through the plate number, and then there would be nowhere left to hide.

So I ran.

My lungs burned and my heels slipped against the pavement. I ran until I spotted a narrow gap between two houses, where the walls blocked out the light. I slipped inside and pressed my back against the cold brick, shaking so hard my teeth clicked.

"Please," I prayed silently. "Please don't let him find me. I can't take any more tonight."

Footsteps echoed down the street and slowed. A shadow stretched across the ground at the mouth of the alley. He was standing right there. I clamped my hand over my mouth, certain he could hear my heart pounding. Tears slid down my face, though I couldn't remember when I'd started crying.

Seconds crawled by like hours. Then the shadow shifted, and the footsteps faded away.

I waited a long time before I dared to move. When I finally peeked out, the street was empty. I crept to my car on unsteady legs, climbed in, and drove off without once looking back.

---

By the time I reached home, I felt hollow. The fear had drained out of me and left only exhaustion and a deep, quiet ache. I wanted a hot bath, my bed, and a sleep so long I wouldn't have to think about anything.

But when I stepped into the living room, I stopped. Someone was sitting on the sofa. As my eyes adjusted, the familiar figure came into focus, and my heart skipped.

"Mother?"

"Oh, Emilia!" She jumped up and wrapped me in a tight hug. She smelled of lavender and home, and for a second I almost broke down right there. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too," I whispered into her shoulder, though I was still stunned.

My mother rarely stayed with me, and she had come without any warning. Violet had probably told her to check on me because of the divorce. I should have been angry at the interference, but all I felt was a tired kind of gratitude. Tonight, of all nights, I didn't want to be alone.

Then she pulled back, and her eyes dropped to my dress. Her smile vanished.

"Where were you, dressed like this?"

My throat tightened. "You don't have to worry, Mom. I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Her voice trembled. "What are you doing, Emilia?"

I exhaled slowly, struggling to keep my face calm. "It's nothing. And no, I'm not into prostitution. It's just a dress."

The words tasted bitter, because I knew how I must have looked: smeared makeup, shaking hands, a dress that wasn't meant for a quiet evening. I excused myself and started toward my room, but her gaze followed the suitcase.

"What's in there?"

"Nothing, Mom..."

My thumb slipped against the latch. It popped open, and the money spilled across the floor.

"Ahh!"

The scream came from behind me. Mia was standing in the doorway, and she must have been in the house all along. She and my mother rushed over.

"Emilia, where did all this come from?" my mother demanded.

I dropped to my knees and began gathering the bundles with trembling hands.

My heart ached. I couldn't tell her what had happened tonight. How could I say that a man had tried to take advantage of me, that I had run through the streets like a thief, that Rui had thrown me away and I was still the one being judged? It would break her heart and fill her with worry she didn't deserve.

So I said nothing.

When I looked up, her hand was over her mouth. Her eyes traveled slowly from my face to the silk dress, then to the money in my arms. I saw the fear in them, and worse, the disappointment I was afraid of.

"Emilia," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please don't tell me you've gone into prostitution."