AYLA
The moment Dr. Dray's name appeared on my phone's screen, I knew something was wrong with Dad.
I sat on one of the silver chairs in the waiting area, my fingers crossed as I waited for Dr. Dray to walk out through the swinging glass door and tell me Dad was still alive.
I wanted to say the 'Hail Mary,' but that'd be stupid—I'd stopped attending church since I was fourteen. God already knew Dad and I needed help, but I'm sure He preferred helping cold-hearted devils like Cassian Moretti.
"Ally," I lifted my head to find Millie and Peter walking towards me.
I felt my heart tighten up with emotions. "Mills, what are you doing here?"
"What do you mean, what are you doing here? You weren't expecting me to leave you here alone, were you?" she said, pulling me into a hug.
What did I ever do to deserve Millie?
"I brought Peter just in case," she muttered before pulling away.
I knew what she meant.
I'd spent all the money I'd found in Dad's savings—I had no idea how he'd gotten that fucking amount of money before the accident—and mine too, and none of it was even enough.
"You shouldn't have," I said quietly.
I felt like a burden, and I hated being one.
"Says the one who'd rob a bank if roles were switched." Millie nudged my shoulders in a playful sneer.
I pressed my lips together and looked away.
As if on cue, Dr. Dray walked through the swinging door. "Ayla."
I turned to face him. Millie stood beside me, giving me full support, and Peter—well, he was here.
"He had a very low blood pressure, and we found out his right vein got blocked, preventing blood circulation. His heart wasn't getting enough oxygen…" Dr. Dray continued with his explanation, but only one thing filtered its way into my head.
I'D ALMOST LOST DAD.
I felt colour drain from my face. I wanted so badly to do nothing but scream and… cry.
Why did life have to be so unfair to Dad and me? I could imagine what he'd gone through.
"But he's stable now. We had to do a little surgery, and the veins are okay now and clear."
I nodded. "Can I see him?"
"Sure," Dr. Dray bobbed his response. "But just you, okay?"
"Okay." I made to move, but his hand stopped me.
"Ayla…" he paused. "We need to talk about the bills."
I spoke before Millie or Peter did. "I'll have it sorted today."
Millie locked fingers with Peter as he moved forward. "Yes, we're here..."
"No." I cut Peter off mid-sentence. "I'll take care of this myself."
"What?" Millie's voice cut through. "What are you doing?"
I turned to Peter, grateful for his support. "Thanks, P, but I want to do this myself."
I turned to Dr. Dray. There was a slight hesitation from him, and I understood—I'd told him the same thing so many times in the past year, but not anymore.
I held his gaze. "This time, I promise."
He let go of my hand, and I ran through the stairs to Dad's room.
I didn't go in. I couldn't—not with the feeling of loss already hanging over my head. I couldn't bring myself to go.
The sound of monitors beeping and those many tubes connected to his body made my heart feel like it was going to burst if I made any sound.
I brushed my cheek with the back of my palm.
Thoughts of Cassian Moretti's deal flashed through my mind as I stood outside the door.
"I've got you, Dad," I muttered, turned around, and walked back downstairs.
"Where are you going?" Millie whisper-yelled from behind as I walked past her and Peter, heading for the exit.
"I'm going to get the money." With that, I disappeared through the door into the afternoon light.
_—---••—---
I had always appreciated beautiful love stories.
I chuckled darkly at how silly I'd been to think life would allow any of that to happen for someone like me—because here I was in C-M Holdings, about to accept an offer by a man tainted by darkness.
He wasn't just asking me to be his personal secretary; he was going to own me and touch me in places I'd never been touched before, just so I'd carry his child.
I swallowed an invisible lump in my throat.
I was about to do the same thing I'd fucking judged girls working as strippers in big casinos for doing—selling their bodies for money. Life had a funny way of humbling the poor.
I clenched my fist as frustration crept up my back.
I needed to stay hopeful. I was doing this for Dad, and besides, we're in the twenty-first century; he would consider IVF, right?
If he had STDs—of which he looked too clean to have—I didn't want any of it.
The familiar brunette appeared; red heels clicked against the tiles as she walked towards me.
"Ayla?"
I nodded once. "Yes."
"Do you have an appointment for today?"
My heart squeezed. "Yes."
It wasn't exactly a lie. He'd given me seven days to decide, and this was the seventh day.
She smiled weakly, like there was a mistake somewhere. "Give me a minute." She turned and disappeared through the glass door.
It took almost thirty minutes before she reappeared. "He's ready to see you."
I nodded, grabbed my purse, and headed for the elevator.
Accepting offers from the devil has its consequences—especially when that devil had the scarred face of the man before me.
He looked distracting and jaw-slapping fascinating in that grey suit. Did every colour just fit him so perfectly, or was it just me?
My heart skipped, suddenly racing a thousand miles per second the moment he finally looked at me. I adjusted in my chair, feeling my heart drum loudly. I could barely hear the sound of his own breath.
His head tilted to the side as he crossed his long leg over the other.
"I knew you'd come back." His face morphed into something cruel and slightly malicious.
I faltered, my clammy hand tightened on my purse.
A fucking bag of pride!
I honestly wished I didn't have to put myself within reach for this man… I honestly wished.
My cheeks burned red with resentment. "Can we get straight to it?"
His gaze burned my skin as his eyes met mine. "You don't tell me what to do."
Okay, that didn't go as planned.
I forced my sweetest smile. "I have to get back to the hospital and—"
"That's none of my business," he said with disinterest.
That shouldn't hurt. I shouldn't expect any sympathy from him. But it hurt—a little too much.
He let out a sardonic breath and tossed something inside a manila envelope towards me. "I gave you one week to decide, and you fucking move around entertaining other men."
My smile and stomach fell.
There was a dark edge to his tone that suggested dirty things—dirty entertainment I knew I'd never be involved in.
My heart thumped to an awkward beat.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." My response was unexpectedly calm in contrast to the sound of my heartbeat.
His gaze levelled on mine as he motioned to the envelope on the table.
I picked it up, and the sound of my heartbeat drowned out everything around me.
Pictures of Lorenzo Vellani at the coffee shop; another of him when he'd stood under the rain with me; another of me in his car, staring at him.
Was this what he meant by entertaining other men? Accepting an innocent ride home?
If this was 'entertaining,' then another word had to be used to describe what strippers in big casinos did for money.
If I thought I ever resented Cassian, right now I think I hated him so much. I wished the hatred was enough to stop this electricity that surged through my veins each time his eyes met mine.
I hated how much effort I had to put up just to pretend his warm, masculine scent wasn't getting to my head. The scent of that oud and something dark made something pulse between my legs.
This strange attraction sank so deep, my cells shifted and grew heavy as they soaked it in.
I needed to stop this madness. I shot up to my feet and slammed the pictures on his desk.
"Don't you dare insult me like that!" I sneered. "I may be desperate for help, but I'm not a fucking whore!"
His gaze flickered to me like my reaction confirmed something—something that piqued his interest—as dry amusement played in it.
"These pictures mean nothing because nothing happened, and you know that." Rage pulsed within me. "I needed to get home, and that was all."
"Ayla… I'm sure you know desperate people do desperate things." He straightened and came to stand behind me. "And you look too pissed for someone innocent."
My fingernails dug into my palm. I might have as well shot myself in the leg for saying I was desperate because right now, I wasn't sure I would hear the last of it.
I felt the need to prove to him I wasn't the kind of girl he thought I was.
His breath brushed my ear just a little. My heart skipped, and I backed up; my arse brushed against his thigh briefly.
He felt warm—a dangerous kind of warm that made my insides feel like an oven. I pulled away and turned around.
All my anger and defences suddenly deserted me as he stood so close.
His condescending stare burned me and infuriated me.
My brain felt frazzled; I couldn't even think straight.
A strange desire to have him drag my arm and turn me around, so my back could rub hard against his front one more time, filled me.
I was breathless.
He maintained a three-inch distance; his black eyes watched me with slim irritation.
Fuck!
I'd never felt any of this whorish feeling before.
What was wrong with me? How was I going to prove I was nothing like what he thought when I couldn't even control my body's reaction under his gaze?
Frustration rose in my throat. Maybe I didn't need to defend myself. Maybe this was a cue for me to get away from him.
I picked up my purse and made to walk past him.
Cassian grabbed my wrist, his eyes heated. "I never said we're done here."
I could feel the furnace from his body burn into mine.
I blinked once. "Well, I'm done."
The tiniest flicker passed through Cassian's gaze. He scraped his teeth across his bottom lip, maybe in shock I was walking out on his offer.
The action drifted my attention to his mouth, and strange warmth filled my stomach.
His office suddenly felt smaller and hotter as we stood there.
He didn't let go of my wrist—I didn't want him to—we simply stared at one another.
Something dark flickered in his eyes, and the butterflies in my stomach suddenly disappeared.
His jaw ticked in thought. "Let's get straight to the offer."
I wanted him to apologise for what he'd said earlier, but as my gaze coasted to his, the dark storm that looked back at me changed my mind real quick.
The tension in his shoulders told me that was the last thing on earth he was going to do.
I pulled away from his grip and sat back down.