Chapter two

Elizabeth's point of view 

"Your sister's condition is critical. If we don't operate on her soon, I'm afraid you may lose her," the nurse's words hit me like a sledgehammer. 'Lose her' The phrase echoed in my mind as I stared at Jessica's still form lying on the bed, her frail body plugged into various machines like a puppet.  

"Is there any way you can help me? Just do the operation before I get the money," I pleaded, even though I knew it was futile.  

"I'm sorry, we can't. Not without at least a deposit," she responded, her words making my legs feel weak. Jessica was the only family I had left. I couldn't afford to lose her. But where was I supposed to find fifty thousand dollars? I had no money, and the bank had only offered me a fifteen-thousand-dollar loan on the condition that I had a white-collar job.  

"Ms. James, I can only give you three days to bring the money. If not, I'm afraid we’ll have to discharge her. Our hospital can't be responsible for what happens to her," the nurse continued, her voice blurring into the backdrop of my panic. Her words felt like a nightmare. If I didn’t get the money, Jessica was going to die.  

"How much do I need to deposit for the operation to start?" I asked, my thoughts swirling as I scrambled for any solution.  

"At least twenty thousand," she said.  

I nodded, pulling out my phone before she could finish. I scrolled through my contacts—every name, every number. Anyone who might lend me the money. I didn’t care what it took; I’d pay them back, even if it meant working until I was old and frail.  

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I don’t have that much right now," was the reply I got over and over again. Until I reached one name. Victor. My old boss. He owned a strip club downtown where I used to work as a bartender.  

"My, my, my. If it isn’t Elizabeth the Virgin," he sneered, using the nickname he’d given me after firing me when I refused to become one of his strippers.  

"I have the money, and I can give it to you. But only on one condition," he said. My heart skipped a beat. I knew exactly what his condition was.  

"I’m sorry, sir. I just... I can’t do it," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I knew what happened to the women who worked at his club—the “extras” that came with the job.  

"So, you’d rather watch your sister die than give away your precious virginity?" he mocked, his words dripping with derision. His laughter echoed in my ears, predatory and cruel.  

I didn’t respond. My gaze drifted back to Jessica. My innocent little sister. Her life was slipping away before my very eyes.  

"Suit yourself," he said after a long pause. "You’re not that special anyway." He spat the words before hanging up.  

As soon as the call ended, my heart raced, my palms damp with sweat. What was I holding back for? Wasn’t my sister’s life more important than my pride?  

Hands trembling, I picked up the phone and dialed Victor back. "I’ll do it," I stuttered.  

An uproar of laughter erupted from him. "Good girl," he said, his voice thick with devilish satisfaction.  

*********

Victor’s eyes glinted as soon as he saw me, a smile of satisfaction spreading across his face as he stood. “Elizabeth, you’re here,” he said with a smile, as though he’d never truly believed I would come.  

I stepped further into the room, my head bowed, unable to lift my gaze from the gaudy rug beneath my feet. My heart felt unbearably heavy, and I felt like throwing up. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to turn back, but I couldn’t. Jessica’s face flashed in my mind, pale and weak, her life hanging by a thread. 'I’m doing this for her'  

“Let’s not waste any more time. Follow me,” Victor ordered, brushing past me without waiting for a response.  

I followed him, my steps slow and shaky, as he led me to the VIP section of the club. The place reeked of alcohol and sweat, and the irritatingly loud sound of music almost burst my eardrums.  

As we entered, Victor clapped his hands to silence the room. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he called out, his voice dripping with sleaze. “I’ve got a special treat for you tonight. Meet the newest addition to our lineup!” He gestured dramatically toward me.  

I froze under the weight of dozens of eyes, my body stiffening as if I had turned to stone.  

“She may look inexperienced,” he continued with a grin that made my skin crawl, “but I assure you, she’s a pro. And for the right price, she’s open to... extra services.”  

His words sliced through me, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from screaming. My knees threatened to buckle, but I forced myself to stay upright. 'For Jessica,' I repeated silently, clinging to the thought like a lifeline.  

“If any of you gentlemen are interested in spending the night with her,” Victor crooned, “you’ll have to bid for it. The starting price is fifty dollars.”  

The room buzzed with murmurs, and I stood frozen, feeling like an object, a thing to be traded. I tried to open my mouth to protest, but the words died in my throat as Jessica’s fragile image flashed in my mind again.  

“Fifty dollars,” someone called.  

“Seventy,” another voice chimed in.  

The bids climbed, one after another. My eyes darted around the room, landing on the bidders—men with hungry, predatory gazes, some young, others old and ugly. One man in particular caught my eye. His bloated frame and greasy hair made my stomach turn as he shouted, “One hundred dollars!”  

“One hundred twenty!” another voice rang out.  

“Two hundred!”  

The numbers blurred together, the shouts overlapping as the crowd treated me like a shiny new toy. I felt suffocated, like I couldn’t breathe. Just when I thought I might collapse, a deep, clear voice cut through the chaos.  

“Ten thousand dollars.”  

The room fell silent. My heart plummeted, and I turned toward the direction of the voice. I couldn’t make out his face in the dim light, but I saw the broad outline of his frame—young, tall, and strong. My mind raced as I tried to process the situation. 'This might not be so bad after all,' I thought desperately, trying to console myself.  

“Deal,” Victor declared, his voice dripping with greed.  

Before I could fully grasp what had happened, Victor gestured to one of the strippers beside me. “Take her and get her ready,” he ordered.  

The stripper grabbed my arm gently, whispering, “Come on, honey. Let’s go.”  

I nodded numbly, following her as my mind swirled with a thousand thoughts. She guided me to their changing room.  

“Oh, honey, you’ve got all the right goods in the right places,” she said, eyeing me up and down as she rummaged through a rack of revealing outfits. Finally, she pulled out a pink lacy lingerie set and handed it to me along with a matching robe.  

I stared at the fabric in my hands, my fingers trembling.  

“You’ll be fine,” she said with a small smirk. “Room 307,” she added, handing me a key.  

I nodded, clutching the key tightly as I turned toward the door. Victor strode in, his grin wider than ever.  

“Don’t bother, Elizabeth. You can go home,” he said, holding out his hand to stop me.  

I froze, confusion flashing across my face. “What do you mean?”  

“You’re done here,” he said simply, stepping aside to let another man in—a wiry man in a suit carrying an envelope.  

The man handed the envelope to Victor and said something in a low voice before turning and leaving as quickly as he’d entered. Victor opened the envelope, his greedy eyes lighting up at the sight of cash.  

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice shaky.  

“The man who bought your time doesn’t want you anymore,” Victor said with a shrug. “And he’s paid a very generous sum to make sure you never step foot in any club again.”  

I stared at him, stunned, relief and confusion flooding me. “But... what about the money you promised? You said you’d give it to me if I came. I kept my end of the deal!”  

Victor chuckled, shaking his head. “You didn’t do any work, so no, you’re not getting a dime.”  

My legs felt weak, my chest tight. I had already made peace with what I was about to do, sacrificing my dignity for Jessica's treatment. Now this man, this stranger, had intervened, and I didn’t know whether to feel grateful or angry.  

"But..." I tried to protest, but before I could, Victor was already calling security.  

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall in front of him. My mind raced as I walked myself out,  'What am I supposed to do now?'