Chapter 3

I couldn’t sleep at all throughout the night. My body was heavy with exhaustion and the guilt of what I had done, but my mind was already racing ahead. Daniel. The hospital. The operation. Last night felt like a distant, hazy dream or rather, a nightmare I had willingly stepped into. My muscles ached in places I didn't know could ache, a constant reminder of my sins. But there was no time for regrets now. I had to get out of here, pay for my brother’s heart surgery, and pretend this never happened.

Beside me, Mr. Richard was still asleep, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. His arm was draped loosely over my waist, and I carefully lifted it away, sliding out of bed without waking him. The room was a mess empty champagne bottles on the nightstand, my clothes scattered across the floor. I shivered and pulled the sheet around me for a moment as I stood there, staring at the door. Freedom was just a few steps away, but I felt trapped, like the walls were closing in.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table: 6:15 AM. Early enough to avoid the hotel's peak hours and my colleagues. I needed to leave quickly. I grabbed my phone from the table where I had kept it last night, checking for any messages. Nothing from Doctor Gabriel yet, but that didn't ease my anxiety. Daniel's face flashed in my mind, his pale skin, the tubes in his arms, the way he'd smiled at me before the last seizure. I had to get to him.

As I turned to grab my clothes, Mr. Richard stirred and opened his eyes. He yawned, stretching lazily, the sheet slipping down to reveal his bare chest.

"Morning, pretty," he said, his voice rough with sleep. "Sleep well?"

"Not really," I muttered, bending down to pick up my bra from the floor. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and I hurried to cover myself. "I need to go."

He propped himself up on one elbow, watching me with that infuriating smirk. "In a rush? We could have breakfast. Or something else." His eyes flicked down, and I followed his gaze to see the obvious tent in the sheets, a morning erection. He was very hard. He chuckled, lifting the sheet just enough to show it off, his cock standing proud. "Looks like someone's ready for round two."

I glared at him, my face flushing with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "That's not funny, Mr. Richard. Put that away. I'm leaving. I need to get to the hospital." I turned my back, focusing on dressing, but my hands trembled as I hooked my bra and buttoned my shirt. How could he be so casual about this? Like last night was just another business deal.

He laughed softly, not bothering to cover himself. "Come on, don't be like that. You enjoyed it. Admit it."

"I didn't," I said angrily, though my body betrayed me with a faint ache that wasn't entirely unpleasant. But I pushed the thought away. This was for Daniel, nothing more. I pulled on my panties, then my skirt, my fingers still shaking. "Just stop, please. I have to go."

“Okay, pretty.”

Mr. Richard sat up fully now, the sheet pooling around his waist, his erection still evident. He reached for his phone on the nightstand. "Before you run off, let's settle this. I promised you five hundred thousand for the night, but you were exceptional. Let me make it a million." He tapped on his screen, and my phone buzzed in my hand. I checked it reluctantly a notification from the bank. One million dollars, transferred just like that. My eyes widened.

"Mr. Richard, no. I can't accept this. It was supposed to be five hundred thousand dollars. I’m sorry, but I won't accept this."

He leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head, his morning wood still on display as if to taunt me. "It's not a favor, sweetheart. Consider it a gift. For your brother. You need it for the operation, right? Take it. You earned it."

I shook my head vehemently, my pulse thundering. The money was tempting, but accepting it would make this feel even dirtier. Like I was some kind of hooker. "No. I refuse. Transfer it back." I opened my banking app and initiated the return transfer, my fingers flying over the screen. It went through almost instantly, and I showed him the confirmation. "There. Done. I don't need your money."

He raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "Stubborn as hell. I like that." He smiled. "What do you say we meet up again tonight?"

“I’m not interested,” I said, glaring at him. “I’m not a hooker.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” Mr. Richard said, raising his hands in mock submission.

I opened the door gently to avoid making any sound. I checked the hallway—everything was clear. I was about to sneak out when he suddenly stopped me. I closed the door back in panic.

"Why are you sneaking around like this? Just walk out the door like a normal person," Mr. Richard said.

"Shh!" I hissed, glancing at the door as if someone might burst in. "I don't want my colleagues or your friends to know what happened between us. Please, just let me go quietly. If anyone sees me leaving your room, I will be..."

He chuckled again, but there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "Alright, alright. Your secret's safe. But if you change your mind about the money or anything else, you can take my card."

I glared at him and headed for the door again. My hand hovered on the knob, and I took a deep breath. The hallway outside was empty. I slipped out, closing the door softly behind me, and tiptoed down the corridor, keeping my head down to avoid the security cameras. My heart raced with every step.

At the lobby level, I peeked through the stairwell door. The reception area was busy, guests checking out, bellboys wheeling luggage. I waited until a group passed, then darted out, weaving through the crowd with my face partially hidden by my hair. No one seemed to notice me. I made it to the revolving doors and stepped outside. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I hailed a cab, my thoughts already on the hospital. But as I reached for my phone to call ahead, it rang in my hand. Doctor Gabriel. My stomach dropped. I answered immediately, my voice breathless.

"Doctor? Is everything okay? How's Daniel?"

"Miss Annabel," he said, his tone grave. "We need to talk. Your brother's condition has worsened. I’m not sure he can hold on anymore. We can’t wait till next week to carry out the surgery, we have to do it today. Do you have the money?"

“Yes, Doctor, I have the money. I'm on my way to the hospital. I will be there soon." I hung up, climbing into the taxi and giving the driver the hospital address. As we drove, my mind raced.

The cab sped through the streets, and I stared out the window. Memories of the night flooded back, I felt very dirty and I tried pushing the thoughts out of my head, but the pain in my lower region made it impossible.

We arrived at the hospital, and I quickly paid the driver, rushing inside. The sterile smell hit me, a stark contrast to the hotel's opulence. I headed straight to the ICU. Doctor Gabriel was already waiting for me outside Daniel's room, his face lined with concern.

"Miss Annabel," he greeted me. "Let's step into my office."

I followed him, my heart in my throat. "What's wrong? Is my brother okay?" I asked breathlessly.

He closed the door behind us. "Miss Annabel, we can't delay the surgery anymore."

“Yes, I have the money. Please do the operation save my brother, please,” I pleaded with Doctor Gabriel.

“Then what are we still waiting for? I will have the nurses prepare him for surgery now.”