Chapter 3 The Last Resort

CHAPTER THREE

Ivy's POV

I sighed and stood, walking ghostlike past the hospital corridor outside.

The cold air gushed harshly at me. I held my hands out to flag down a cab before remembering I didn't have money, nothing at all.

I took another look at the golden card in my hands and typed the name into my search bar.

Sex. Trade. Money.

That was all. I felt my throat constrict at the realization of what the card was for.

To sell myself for money. A trickle of tears fell down my face because, as disgusting as I thought it was, I was considering it.

I clenched the golden card tighter in my hand, my tears blurring the words printed across it. The thought of where it could lead made bile rise in my throat, but the alternative-my father's lifeless body-was worse. Still, there was one last door I could knock on before throwing myself into that darkness.

The Valentinos.

The man my mother had left my father for. A man who had wealth spilling from every corner of his life. If anyone could write the kind of cheque I needed tonight without blinking, it was him. And if my mother still had even the tiniest speck of humanity left, she'd listen.

I stepped out of the hospital's sliding doors, the cold night air slicing against my skin. My arms wrapped around myself as I walked toward the road. When a yellow cab slowed to a stop beside me, I waved halfheartedly.

The driver rolled down the window, his eyes scanning me. "Where you going, miss?"

I hesitated. "Valentino estate. Rosewood Drive."

His brows shot up, as if he weren't expecting that answer. "That's far... you got fare?"

I swallowed hard, shaking my head. "No... but it's an emergency. My father's in the hospital, and-" My voice broke without warning, tears slipping free.

The man's face softened. He sighed, glancing around before waving me in. "Get in before I change my mind."

Relief flooded me. "Thank you... thank you so much."

The ride was quiet except for the occasional sniffle from me. My mind was running in loops-replaying my mother's cold voice over the phone, wondering if she'd even let me through the front door.

By the time we pulled up to the massive wrought-iron gates of the Valentino estate, my stomach was twisted into knots. I stepped out, clutching my coat tighter around me, and approached the guard booth.

One of the men stepped out, blocking my path. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Mrs. Valentino-my mother," I said, forcing my voice to sound steady.

His brows furrowed. "Your mother?" He gave me a slow, skeptical once-over. "She's not expecting visitors. Especially not-"

"I just spoke to her," I cut in quickly, lying without blinking. "She's expecting me. You can call her if you want, but she'll be very upset if you keep me standing out here."

He didn't look convinced. "Ma'am, you need to wait here-"

That was all I needed to hear. I darted past him.

"Hey! Stop! Damn!" he grunted after me.

My legs moved faster than my thoughts. The sound of his heavy boots pounded after me, but I knew this house-every corner, every shortcut-from when I was a little girl chasing butterflies through its halls. I weaved around the side garden, cut through the open terrace, and sprinted through the side hallway.

I was just about to be caught-his shadow loomed close behind-when I threw myself through the archway into the living room.

The warmth hit me first, then the smell of expensive perfume. My mother was there, sitting on a cream velvet couch, surrounded by at least twenty glossy shopping bags from every exotic brand imaginable. A delicate glass of champagne rested in her perfectly manicured hand.

She looked up, startled at first... then her lips curved into a faint smirk.

"Ivy," she drawled, her voice rich with condescension. "How... dramatic."

The guard burst in a second later, panting. "I-I tried to stop her-"

I didn't wait for her to speak. My knees buckled, and I dropped onto the plush carpet in front of her.

"Mom... please. I need your help."

"Ivy, look at me," she said, setting the glass in her hands on the table.

"You called me. We talked about this barely thirty minutes ago, and you think running into this house is going to make me change my mind?" she taunted, lifting my jaw with her finger.

"Mom, please, just this once. I'll handle the rest myself, take care of everything. I just need you to please help me. If I don't get the money before the next 48 hours, Dad's going to be taken off life support. I don't have anything left! Please!" I begged, crawling closer.

"Ivy, stop!" Her husband barked, standing and moving toward me.

"Mr. Valentino..." I rasped, but something else happened. A harsh slap resounded against my cheek, throwing my face sideways.

My eyes burned with hot tears that threatened to spill over. My cheek throbbed, the sting pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat.

I swallowed, forcing myself not to touch the burning skin. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

My mother leaned back lazily, crossing one leg over the other, her stilettos dangling in the air. "Do you see what you've become, Ivy? On your knees, begging like some stray animal." She let out a low, humorless laugh. "Pathetic."

"Pathetic?" My voice cracked under the weight of my own disbelief. "You left Dad for this-for money-and now you can't even give a fraction of it to save his life?"

Her eyes hardened, her lips curling into something venomous. "You think I owe that man anything? He was weak. And weakness is contagious."

Something inside me broke. I could hear Mr. Valentino muttering something under his breath, but I barely registered it. My entire focus was on the woman in front of me, the woman who had given birth to me but now looked at me like I was a stranger trespassing in her palace.

"I'll pay you back," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Every cent. I'll do anything."

For the first time, her expression shifted-not to kindness, but to something calculating. Her eyes flickered over me in a way that made my stomach churn.

Then she smiled. Slowly. Coldly.

"I don't think I'm the one you should be asking," she said finally. "There are... other ways to get what you need. And from the looks of it..." She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "...you already have an invitation."

Her gaze dropped deliberately to the golden card still clutched in my fist.

I froze.

Her lips curved higher, as if she'd just checkmated me in a game I didn't know we were playing.

"I suggest you use it, darling," she said softly, almost like a lullaby. "Because begging me will get you nowhere."

The room spun. My pulse roared in my ears.

And I knew... she'd already decided to let my father die.