Chapter 4

Kayla's POV- 

*The next morning*

The first rays of sunlight were filtering through the heavy curtains when I finally stirred. Every muscle in my body felt as if it had been put through a grinder; my thighs were numb, aching with a dull, persistent ache that made even the smallest movement a challenge. I sat up slowly, wincing as the soreness was noticeable 

I slid out of the bed, my legs trembling so badly I nearly fell. I walked toward the bathroom, my movement awkward and unsteady. Once inside, I locked the door and leaned against the cold tiles, letting out a broken sob. I turned on the tap splashing cold water over my face and washing away the physical traces of the night, trying desperately to scrub away the feeling of last night .

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to pull my composure together. Do it for her, I repeated in my mind. Do it for Mom.

I dressed quickly in my crumpled clothes, my hands shaking as I buttoned my shirt. On the nightstand, he had left a thick, neat stack of cash. I didn't count it. I shoved the money into my bag, not wanting to spend another second in that room.

Walking out of the hotel was felt like a disaster. My movement was stiff and unnatural, and I could feel the weight of people's eyes on me. I caught and heard whispers from the hotel staff with their judging looks, and murmurs, but I kept my chin up, staring straight ahead. 

I didn't go home. I didn't stop to rest. I took a cab and went straight to City General Hospital.

When i arrived, the hospital was just as sterile and cold as I remembered, but this time, I wasn't coming as a beggar. I walked to the billing office, my heart still racing, and placed the thick envelope onto the counter. The administrator looked surprised, counting the bills with slow, deliberate movements.

"This covers the full deposit," the administrator noted, her tone shifting from dismissive to professional. "We can get the surgical team scheduled for this afternoon."

I didn't wait to hear more. I turned and walked toward the ICU, the weight of the night finally beginning to lift, replaced by a fragile, terrifying sense of hope.

Twenty minutes later I arrived home and collapsed on my worn out sofa, staring at the ceiling, my mind replaying every detail of the previous night—the coldness of the room, the intensity of his touch, and the sting of the pain I hadn't expected. The silence of my apartment felt heavy, almost suffocating.

Suddenly, a sharp, knocking at my door shattered my thoughts. I pulled myself up, my body still feeling bruised and fragile, and went to the door.

When I swung the door open, Sarah stood there, her expression a mix of curiosity and restless energy. Before I could even offer a greeting, Sarah pushed past me, wrapping me in a tight, suffocating hug.

"Girl!" Sarah exclaimed, pulling back to look at me, her eyes scanning my face for any sign of change. "I have been dying to hear everything! How was your night with Mr. Billionaire? Was he good? I need the tea—was his dick big, or was he all talk and no action?"

Sarah’s casual, blunt tone felt like a splash of ice water. She collapsed onto the sofa, already kicking off her heels. "Come on, don’t keep me waiting. You’re lucky I set you up with him. He’s the most exclusive guy in the city. Tell me you at least enjoyed the ride!"

I flinched, the casual tone of Sarah’s words cutting deeper than the physical ache in my body. Tears instantly blurred my vision, hot and stinging as they spilled over.

"Can you hear yourself right now?" I said, my voice trembling with a mixture of raw pain and disbelief. "I just traded everything I had, everything I was, and all you can talk about is size and performance? Do you even see me as a person, Sarah, or just a transaction you arranged? You watched me walk into that hotel room like I was heading to a slaughterhouse, and you’re acting like I just came back from a show. I feel empty, I feel like I'm never going to be clean again, and you’re sitting there talking like this is some kind of joke story?."

Sarah didn't look affected. She simply rolled her eyes, let out a sharp, impatient sigh, and leaned back on the sofa, crossing her arms.

"Oh, save the melodrama for your diary, Kayla," Sarah snapped, her voice cold and cutting. "At least you got the fucking money. Your mom’s bills are paid, she’s getting her surgery, and you’re not going to be homeless. That’s the reality. So, wipe those tears off your face right now."

Sarah stood up and paced the small room, gesturing toward my bag. "You want to cry about your 'lost soul'? Fine. Cry for an hour. But after that, you take whatever is left of that money, you invest it, and you actually do something useful with your life instead of acting like a victim. You chose this, remember? You needed the cash. You got it. Now grow up and use it to get us both out of this hellhole."

*Wow! I can't believe she just said that*

My voice became sharp, laced with a venom I didn’t know I possessed. "Just get out, Sarah! Get out of my apartment!"

Sarah stood her ground, her face turning into a smirk. "Oh, please! You’re acting like you got killed or something! You literally earned a huge amount of money from one night—it's better than spending your time fucking some broke, dumbass boyfriend who can't even raise a fraction of this for you when you're in need!"

That hit a nerve in me, but I didn’t back down; I stepped forward, my eyes forming tears. "At least he was a boyfriend, Sarah! Not a customer! You treat people like inventory because that’s all you know how to be—just a body on a stage, selling yourself for cheap applause and loose change! No wonder your boyfriend left you; no one wants to stay with a girl who has no soul left to give, just a price tag attached to her collar!"

The air in the room vanished. Sarah’s confident, posture shattered, her face going pale before flushing a dangerous, humiliated red.

"You bitch!" Sarah hissed, her voice trembling with genuine, anger.

"Just leave!" I screamed, pointing to the door, my entire body shaking from the adrenaline of the confrontation. "I never want to see you again!"

Sarah didn't say another word. She grabbed her purse, her movements fast and frantic, and stormed toward the door. She paused with her hand on the knob, turning back to glare at me with eyes full of pure hatred. "You think you're better than me now that you've got your precious money? You’re exactly like me, Kayla. You just haven't realized it yet."

The door slammed shut shaking my apartment walls, leaving me standing in the center of the room, the silence rushing back in to suffocate me. I was alone—truly alone—with nothing but the silence, my bruised body, and the money that had cost me everything.