Brave Girl

IRINA

"You should know, blood is thicker than water, even a stork knows how to repay a favor," my mother quipped.

My grandmother was still crying, she was scared, and even covered her face with her palms. My grandmother should not be able to bear this kind of mental stress anymore. She is not mentally or physically stable.

"I need 100 million dollars," my mother said again.

"Wait, what? That's a lot of money. Mama, I don't have that much money."

"Then how do you explain how you paid off your debt to that Russian loan shark? Did you sell yourself to some rich old man?" she asked.

How could such a lowly insult come out of my mother's mouth? I always felt like I wasn't her biological child. I thought the hurt and resentment would subside after she remarried, but I remained her punching bag.

"Send the money to my account. You think I raised you with my bare hands? How much have I sacrificed for you?" she said again.

"Mama, please!" I whined.

"And don't ever try to show up at my house. That incident is still embarrassing for me. You should never appear in front of your step-brother," she said again and walked away.

My hands trembled when I heard my mother's statement. Reminds me of a disgusting incident. I was framed, harassed, but they said I was a suspect, a seductive bitch.

"Grandma? Are you okay?" Realizing the situation, I comforted my grandmother. She was still crying, rubbing her face for a moment.

While blinking her eyes occasionally, my grandmother sighed, "I'm sorry, who are you?" she said.

"Grandma? It's me," I replied anxiously.

"Where am I? What is this place? Who are you?" she asked, slightly hysterical.

My grandmother's dementia relapsed; this must have been due to the pressure my mother put on her. My grandmother suddenly screamed uncontrollably, and I pressed the emergency button. Several nurses ran into the room. They did their best to deal with my grandmother.

My hands were shaking, and I sat down listlessly on the floor near my grandmother's room door. My phone rang; it was Cessie, but I didn't want to answer.

A chat bubble notification from Cessie appeared, "Irina, let's talk about what you want to talk to me about, sorry I ignored you," she said.

Suddenly, I remembered the offer Miron made: a contract.  There must be something he needs from me to make this kind of offer. If it's about work, can I negotiate with him?

So, what about Daisy? Aren't they a couple? Why does Miron need a contract lover?

Two hours passed, and my grandmother was asleep. This difficult day didn't end there. I want to go home and clean my body. I haven't had time to get into the taxi yet. Two men pulled me, carrying me into the limousine.

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" I gasped, this scene was so deja vu.

"Have you signed the contract?" the man asked, without further ado. I fixed my glasses. This man's face was familiar. I could tell he was Miron's confidant from the moment we met.

Different from the previous one. There were only the two of us in the car. Without ties on my hands, rough grips, and closed eyes. This time, we were dealing with lighter pressure.

"I-I haven't signed it yet."

"Sir Miron doesn't accept any excuses for refusal. You were given no choice at all."

"Can I negotiate with him?"

"Negotiation? You're not in a position to say such things."

I wrung my fingers together, "There's a reason a man like Miron would offer me a contract like this. If I'm useful, then I have the right to profit. That's how a contract should be," I replied.

The man raised his eyebrows. He took out his iPad and showed me the screen. Miron is soaking in the Jacuzzi. The candlelight illuminated his collarbone, almost revealing the veins on his upper arm.

"Sir Miron heard all this conversation," the man said.

I flinched, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to show any fear in front of them. There was only a fake confidence, a toughness, a stubbornness.

"Bring him here!" Miron's voice rang out.

"Where?" I asked.

They didn't answer, but the car was already moving. This night was going to be long and tiring. All I wanted was money and a quiet life with my grandmother. Does bad luck really like me?

I came back to this mansion, even though I had run as far as I could from this place. Damn, really damn.

One of the servants guided my steps, bringing me to meet Miron. The crazy man was soaking there, waiting for me.

"Take off your clothes and come in here," he ordered suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"If you want to negotiate, do it the right way," he said.

My breath hitched. What did he mean by taking off my clothes? It might sound old-fashioned, but no man had ever really seen my body, even if it was half-naked.

But this is an opportunity for me. I may not be afraid of death, but I can't just die, leaving my grandmother in a critical situation.

Clumsily, I took off my top and bottom, leaving only my bra and panties. Clutching my thighs, I felt uncomfortable. To maintain some measure of self-respect, I braved the urge to step into the Jacuzzi.

I chose a position facing him. The water was warm, relaxing, and awkward. It soaked my body until it covered my chest.

 "From the start, I didn't ask you to help me pay my debts. I don't understand that. But, if I were to agree to a contract, I'd want it to be mutually beneficial."

I don't know where the courage came from, but I was so bold as to say what was on my mind. Miron's eyes moved as he looked me up and down, as if he was stripping me naked.

"Well, I need a brave girl like you, not afraid of weapons, because you might lose your life for this contract."

"What?" I muttered, so now I'm really trapped in a mafia environment?