Chapter 9 Sold to the Stranger

"Ma'am, we're here," the taxi driver's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.

She blinked, startled. The car had already come to a stop. She hadn't even noticed.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly lifted her gaze. The towering five-star hotel loomed before her, its golden lights shimmering against the night sky. It looked luxurious, almost otherworldly-so different from the life she had known.

This was where she would sell her virginity.

Her stomach twisted violently. The overwhelming urge to cry clawed at her throat, but she swallowed it down. No. She couldn't break. Not now.

Not when her father was counting on her.

"Ma'am?" the driver called again, concern lacing his voice.

"S-Sorry..." she mumbled, fumbling for her wallet with trembling hands. She handed him the fare and stepped out of the taxi, her legs feeling like they could give out beneath her at any moment.

The moment she crossed the threshold into the hotel, the air changed. The scent of expensive cologne and freshly polished marble filled her lungs, making her lightheaded. She forced herself to walk forward, her heels clicking softly against the pristine floor as she approached the receptionist.

She gave her name.

The receptionist's expression didn't change, but something in the way they slid the key card across the counter made her stomach tighten. A flicker of understanding flashed in their eyes.

They knew.

She could feel it.

Shame slithered over her skin, but she squared her shoulders, snatched the key card, and walked away without a word.

Her heart pounded harder with each step toward the elevator. Cold sweat formed at the back of her neck. She clenched her hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

By the time she reached the suite, nausea swelled in her throat.

She hesitated.

A single step stood between her and the decision she could never take back.

Her entire life had been leading to this moment. And yet, she still felt like a little girl lost in the dark.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

If she turned around now, what would happen to her father?

He had no one else.

She had no other choice.

Taking a deep breath, she forced her hands to steady long enough to slide the key card into the lock.

Click.

The sound made her flinch.

The door creaked open, revealing a suite bathed in dim, golden light. Cool air from the air-conditioning brushed against her skin, sending goosebumps across her arms.

Slowly, she stepped inside.

The room was massive, drowning her in its opulence. But her gaze locked onto one thing.

The bed.

Circular, impossibly large, and draped in red satin sheets.

A bed meant for seduction.

Her stomach clenched.

Her hands curled into fists as she bit down on her lip, trying to hold back the sting of tears.

A sudden knock shattered the silence.

She spun around, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest.

The door opened.

A man in a crisp black tuxedo entered, carrying a silver tray with a single wine glass.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he greeted, his tone neutral and professional.

"I-I didn't order room service," she stammered.

"Mr. Moretti requested that this be brought to you," the man explained, extending the glass toward her.

Her breath hitched at the name.

Moretti.

So that was her client.

A man she had never met. A man who now owned her for the night.

Her fingers trembled as she took the glass. She hesitated, then lifted it to her nose, inhaling the rich aroma.

Maybe this would help.

Maybe it would numb the fear clawing at her insides.

She tilted her head back and drained the entire glass in one go, feeling the burn slide down her throat.

The waiter bowed slightly and exited, leaving her alone once more.

She turned back to the suite, forcing herself to move, to breathe.

She walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring blankly at the city lights stretching endlessly before her.

How many people down there were living their normal lives, completely unaware of the girl standing up here, preparing to trade herself away?

A bitter sigh escaped her lips as she wrapped her arms around herself.

She didn't know who was coming for her tonight.

Didn't know his face, his voice, his touch.

Suddenly, her head spun.

Her stomach twisted violently as her vision blurred.

She stumbled, reaching for the glass wall to steady herself.

A cold wave of realization crashed over her.

Sh*t.

Something was wrong.

A creeping chill slithered through her veins, tightening around her like an invisible shackle. It wasn't from the air conditioning. It was something deeper-something unnatural. It felt as though she had swallowed ice, the coldness settling in her gut before seeping outward, numbing her from the inside.

Her heartbeat pounded erratically, a frantic drum against her ribs. Her breaths grew shallow, each one catching in her throat like shards of glass. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry, her tongue thick and heavy.

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could will away the creeping dread suffocating her. But the soft creak of the door splitting the silence forced her lashes apart.

A dark figure stepped inside.

Her vision wavered, still blurred at the edges, but she could make out his tall frame, the sharp cut of his suit, the way he carried himself-powerful, deliberate. The dim lighting cast shadows over his face, but the mask covering it concealed all but his lips.

Something inside her twisted violently.

She took a small step back, a silent instinct to flee. But then reality struck her, cold and merciless.

She had no choice. She had already made her decision.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she forced herself to stay still.

The stranger loosened his tie, the simple action somehow more intimate than it should have been. Then, he stepped toward her.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

Would he be angry if she recoiled?

She wasn't sure why, but something about him unsettled her. Maybe it was his silence. Or maybe it was his eyes-those gray depths that pinned her in place, unreadable yet so... consuming.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was deep, rough, edged with something unreadable.