As a Tool

To Cheesy’s surprise, Daryl didn’t kiss her like she expected. Instead, his large hand tightened around her neck.

“Ugh!” Cheesy choked, her hands scrambling to free herself. But Daryl only gripped her harder, his face cold, emotionless.

“Listen carefully, Cheesy Evelyne,” Daryl hissed into her ear, his voice chilling and sharp. “You’re not going to be my mistress. You’re a filthy, disgusting woman. You’re not even worthy of touching my bed.” His eyes narrowed, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Cheesy stared at him wide-eyed. Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back.

A faint smile crossed her face as her mind wandered to sweeter times—when she and Daryl were in love. She remembered being just eighteen, giving herself to him, believing in their love.

But now? That same man despised her. He wouldn’t even let her touch his bed.

“Then… whose bed should I climb into?” Cheesy asked, smiling as if nothing could break her.

“You’ll be someone else’s mistress,” Daryl replied, his eyes locked onto hers. “A man named Roy.”

Cheesy froze. Her face stayed composed, but her heart sank.

“Roy?” she whispered almost inaudibly.

“Yes. That fat old man has been after a woman like you for a while now. I need his business cooperation—and you’ll be the bargaining chip.” Every word sliced through Cheesy’s dignity like a blade.

But instead of anger, she laughed. Softly. Bitterly. Her eyes stared blankly ahead.

“Fine. I’ll do it. As long as I get paid, I don’t care whose bed I end up in,” she said with a dry tone.

Daryl held his breath, eyes widening slightly in disbelief.

“So, you agree?”

Cheesy looked up at him, her smile sharp. “Didn’t you just call me a cheap woman? Then of course I agree. All I have to do is please Mr. Roy in bed. Sounds like an easy job.”

Daryl clenched his jaw. Part of him had hoped she would say no—but instead, she accepted without a fight. He was furious, though he masked it well.

***

The next morning at 10 a.m., Cheesy was brought to an upscale salon downtown. Daryl waited restlessly, bouncing his knee with impatience.

Hours later, Cheesy stepped out of the treatment room. Her long hair was styled in soft waves, her eyes dramatically enhanced with smoky makeup, and a fiery red dress hugged her slender frame.

Daryl was nearly speechless. Cheesy looked stunning—almost unrecognizable.

“That dress is too revealing,” he muttered, quickly turning away. Then, slipping into his usual cold demeanor, he added, “But it suits a woman like you.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Daryl,” Cheesy replied with a bright smile.

“Don’t embarrass me in front of Mr. Roy,” Daryl whispered near her ear. “If you satisfy him, you’ll get a bonus.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Daryl. I won’t disappoint you,” Cheesy said calmly.

Tch.

Daryl turned his face away, fists clenched at his sides.

Soon after, they arrived at the destination—Mr. Roy’s luxurious bar, filled with elegantly dressed guests. Jazz music played softly, and the scent of cigars lingered in the air.

Daryl escorted Cheesy inside and led her to the exclusive lounge upstairs. There, a rotund man in an oversized suit, with gold rings on his fingers, laughed boisterously with his assistant.

“Ah! Young Master Daryl!” Roy exclaimed when he saw them. “And this must be the lady you promised me? The one who’s going to warm my bed?”

Cheesy smiled politely, even though fear gripped her.

“Yes, just as I promised. Her name is Cheesy,” Daryl replied flatly.

Roy stepped closer, eyes roaming shamelessly over Cheesy’s figure. With a rough motion, Daryl shoved her into Roy’s arms.

“Haha! Wonderful! She’s beautiful, Young Master Daryl! Just my type,” Roy said, sniffing Cheesy’s hair. She held her breath, her body rigid.

“Very, the contract,” Daryl ordered quickly, unable to look at Cheesy any longer.

Very handed over a thick folder, which Roy signed while stroking Cheesy’s arm.

“Excellent! This partnership will be the start of something sweet,” said Daryl. “Let’s hope she doesn’t disappoint you, Mr. Roy.”

Without looking back, Daryl turned and walked out, followed by Very. But before they got far, a shrill scream rang out from the room behind them.

“AAAAAH! DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T!”

Daryl froze in place. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Very looked at him, alarmed. “Young Master, are you alright?”

Daryl didn’t answer. His sharp gaze stayed fixed on the door to Roy’s room, his breathing quickening.