Sensing his displeasure, Emily quickly said, "You are my main patron. As long as I'm with you, I won't have any contact with other men."
Alexander frowned. "What's that smell on you?"
"Perfume. You don't like it? I'll wash it off immediately..." With that, Emily quickly stood up and ran to the bathroom. Knowing how to be a good mistress also required understanding the patron's preferences in the dark. For instance, she had discovered that Alexander disliked any artificial scents on women.
---
Emily quickly took a quick shower. When she finished, she realized she hadn't brought any clean clothes. So she wrapped a towel around her chest, covering her body from her chest to just above her thighs. With her hair dripping, she walked out.
Over the past few days, Emily had learned how to quickly pique Alexander's interest. He liked seeing her blend innocence with cunning, a mix of purity and allure.
She called out softly, "Mr. Remington..."
Alexander turned around, his gaze falling on her, his eyes instantly darkening.
He grabbed her roughly, and with Emily's startled cry, he threw her onto the bed.
Emily knew that Alexander sought women to serve him, and in matters of intimacy, he was stingy with his tenderness and even stingier with his emotions. He never gave women any unnecessary looks or attention.
During this time, Emily had suffered, but she had gradually gained experience. She learned to relax her body and become more sensitive when facing Alexander, making the experience less painful.
But this time, after Alexander tore off her towel, he propped himself on his hands, staring at her without making any other moves.
This surprised Emily. Usually, Alexander got straight to the point within ten minutes, as he was very stingy with his time.
Women were mere playthings to him, an optional spice in his life. Giving them too much time was a waste.
So what was different today?
"Mr. Remington..." Emily felt uncomfortable under his gaze and called out tentatively.
Maybe because of her nervousness, her voice carried a slight tremor, soft and tender, sounding like a gentle caress.
Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly. He had endured for so long, and her one sentence had broken his control. Damn it.
His previously still body suddenly leaned down, kissing Emily's eyes, as if a powerful storm had swept through her body.
After a whirlwind of passion, the air was filled with a lazy, decadent atmosphere.
Emily lay on the large bed, loosely wrapped in one of Alexander's shirts, just enough to cover her hips. Her white feet swung back and forth as she held up the check, questioning Alexander.
"Mr. Remington, is this severance pay, or do you think my service was good and decided to give me a bonus?"
"Don't you want it?" he asked.
Emily smiled and said, "Of course, I want it. But I need to know what it's for."
Alexander smirked, "Consider it a reward. But remember, you belong to me. No more dates."
Emily nodded, hiding her true feelings. "Understood."
She had learned to navigate these interactions, using them to her advantage. She knew she had to stay in Alexander's good graces while planning her next move.
"Good," Alexander said, his tone softening slightly. "Now, come here."
Emily complied, moving closer to him, knowing that her survival depended on her ability to play this role perfectly.
She had to be smart, resilient, and patient. Her ultimate goal was still revenge, and she couldn't afford to forget that.
In Alexander's arms, she whispered, "I'll do whatever you want, Mr. Remington."
He tightened his hold on her, satisfied with her submission. "That's what I like to hear."
Emily closed her eyes, steeling herself for the path ahead. She had to keep her focus and remember why she was doing this. She couldn't let her emotions get in the way.
As Alexander held her, she vowed to herself that she would find a way to turn this situation to her advantage. She would gather the resources she needed, and when the time was right, she would strike.
For now, she would play the part, all the while plotting her next move.
"You don't want it?"
Alexander Remington, dressed in a black silk robe, leaned lazily against the arm of the sofa, one hand resting on the edge.
His robe hung open, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his collarbone and smooth, ivory skin.
His long legs were crossed, and a faint smile played on his sculpted, almost godlike face, tinged with a hint of mockery.
Every inch of him was a masterpiece, and especially now, his collarbone adorned with the pink bite marks she had left on him, emanating a seductive allure.
Hearing his question, Emily quickly clutched the check in her hand, as if afraid it might be snatched away. "Of course not, Mr. Remington. You know money is my greatest love. But... it's not the end of the month yet. This money is so unexpected, like a windfall. I wouldn't dare take it without knowing the reason. Even as a mistress, I need to have professional ethics."
The phrase "professional ethics as a mistress" had become something of a catchphrase for Emily around Alexander. It was a reminder for him, and for herself, that being a mistress was her profession. She was just a mistress, there for the money, and nothing else. Because Alexander was too perfect, she had to guard her heart diligently.
But taking money from Alexander wasn't something she could do lightly. Their relationship was purely transactional: she took his money, and he took her body. Nothing more.
So, every penny had to be accounted for to avoid any future misunderstandings.
Their relationship, to put it bluntly, was a business transaction. Both of them had the same goal: cold, hard cash for survival and, in Emily's case, for revenge.
Emily knew she was tainted and degraded, but what did it matter?
When one's life is at stake, degradation is just a means of survival.
Survival is sometimes the most cruel reality, forcing people into the most desperate choices, like hers...
Alexander lit a cigarette, elegantly blowing a smoke ring.
"Roxanne is coming back tomorrow."
Emily nodded knowingly. So, the main lady was returning. This was hush money, to ensure she wouldn't run her mouth to the future Mrs. Remington.
How ridiculous. As if she would be so foolish. This money was indeed easy to earn.
Three million dollars-a sum many couldn't earn in a lifetime.
If she had had this kind of money back then, she wouldn't have been driven to such desperate straits.
Roxanne Stone was Alexander Remington's fiancée, the only woman he had publicly acknowledged.
The Stone family was a prominent family in the city. Her father was a real estate tycoon, and her mother was a distinguished professor at a renowned university.
Roxanne herself was a beauty with intelligence, charm, and elegance, making her the perfect high-society woman, envied by many men.
Though Alexander had many women come and go, Roxanne had remained by his side for four years.
Emily, on the other hand, was just one of his many mistresses, maintaining a transactional relationship with him for nearly three months.
She was one of the longer-standing mistresses, a fact she sometimes thought she could take pride in.
Holding the check, Emily happily counted the zeros, not sparing Alexander a glance, her smile seductive like a cat's.
Emily was well aware of her position. A mistress is just that-a despised home-wrecker, hidden from public view.
Alexander watched her, his gaze inscrutable. "Remember, Emily. Our arrangement is purely professional. You're not to interfere with my personal life."
Emily nodded, still smiling. "Of course, Mr. Remington. I understand."
She knew the rules of their game, and she played her part well. But deep down, she was always plotting, always planning her next move.
As Alexander turned away, Emily's smile faded. She couldn't let her guard down for a moment. She had to stay sharp, stay focused.
Her ultimate goal was still revenge, and she couldn't afford to forget that.
In Alexander's world, she was just a plaything, a tool. But she would use this role to her advantage, gathering the resources she needed.
She had come too far to turn back now. She would see this through to the end, no matter the cost.