"Three hundred thousand."
"Your child's condition is deteriorating. They've been moved to a sterile room, so... the costs have gone up."
After a long silence, Seraphina Quinn responded, exhausted and drained, "Tomorrow. I'll transfer the money tomorrow."
Even though she was at her wits' end, Seraphina Quinn hadn't gone to Damian Fairchild for help.
That evening, she called her good friend, Zella Buckley, for help:
"Buckley, can you... can you lend me some money? I'm... a little tight on cash."
Zella Buckley: "How much do you need?"
Seraphina Quinn: "I need... three hundred thousand."
Zella Buckley: "That much? Seraphina, I... I just bought a house. I can't come up with that much right now..."
Seraphina Quinn: "Then... do you know of any part-time jobs that pay well and quickly? If not... even a short-term loan would work."
Zella Buckley was a well-known television host, currently emceeing an engagement party where many investors were present.
She genuinely wanted to help her friend. "Seraphina, why don't you come to the Cloud's End Hotel? I know a lot of investors, and their kids are all looking for tutors. Why don't you come and give it a try?"
"Okay."
Just as Seraphina Quinn arrived at the Cloud's End Hotel, Damian Fairchild stepped out of a black Maybach.
As he casually glanced up, he caught sight of her hurrying inside.
'Tonight is the engagement party for the daughter of the Grant Group, the wealthiest family in the south of the city. What is a disgraced, fallen heiress like her doing here?'
...
Seraphina Quinn was stunningly beautiful. She had a classic oval-shaped face with features that were striking but not gaudy. Even in a faded, stiff denim shirt, she was a breathtaking sight in the brilliantly lit banquet hall.
Someone couldn't help but start whispering.
"Isn't that Seraphina Quinn? What's she doing here?"
"What else? It's the engagement party for the Grant Group's daughter. More than half of the city's powerful and wealthy are here. Of course she's here to fish for a man and sell her body."
The one who said this was Ivy Sharp, daughter of Harold Sharp.
Someone snickered. "Ivy, that's a bit harsh."
Ivy Sharp sneered. "Harsh? She's a bitch who'll spread her legs for anyone with money. Last night, she almost seduced her way into my dad's bed. But then some even richer old man carted her off."
As soon as she finished, someone teased, "Ivy, you're so magnanimous. She almost climbed into your dad's bed and became your new stepmom, and you can tolerate that?"
Ivy Sharp snorted heavily through her nose. "You think I want to tolerate it? I wouldn't dare cause a scene at Miss Grant's engagement party."
But despite her words, Ivy Sharp couldn't hold back. As Seraphina Quinn walked toward them, she flung a glass of red wine right in her face.
It happened so suddenly that Seraphina Quinn didn't see it coming. The wine drenched her hair and face, leaving her in a particularly wretched state.
She raised a hand to wipe the red wine from her eyelashes. As her blurry vision cleared, she finally got a good look at the culprit, Ivy Sharp.
Seraphina Quinn's goal today was to find money, not to start trouble.
Besides, this was the engagement party of her arch-rival, Rosalind Grant. She would endure it.
So, without even glancing at Ivy Sharp, she turned to leave, her expression cold.
Ivy Sharp felt like she had just punched a pillow of cotton. She yelled at Seraphina's retreating back:
"Seraphina Quinn, you're just like your mother—a shameless, worthless slut..."
Seraphina Quinn's steps faltered. Then, she turned around.
Traces of red wine still clung to her face. A dark red droplet trickled from her brow, down the bridge of her nose, and fell.
Amidst the overlapping lights and shadows, she was a mess, yet she stood ramrod straight.
In just a few seconds, she was standing in front of Ivy Sharp. To everyone's utter shock, she raised her hand and slapped Ivy across the face. "Humiliate me all you want, but you're asking for a beating when you insult my family."
The slap stunned Ivy Sharp. She clutched her swelling, red cheek. "Seraphina Quinn, you dare hit me? You promiscuous bitch..."
Seraphina Quinn cut her off.
"This is Rosalind Grant's engagement party. Are you trying to ruin it? It makes no difference to me. I'm already drowning in debt with a ruined reputation. I have nothing left to lose. But you're different.
"Even if your father is the second-largest director of Cathay Bank, he still has to grovel like a dog before the Grant Family, the wealthiest in the south of the city. If you ruin Rosalind Grant's engagement party, what do you think she'll do to you?"
Rosalind Grant was notoriously arrogant and domineering.
Once, a secretary tried to seduce her fiancé. The afternoon she was discovered, her legs were broken and she was driven out of Aurelium.
Ivy Sharp was immediately intimidated.
However, someone who loved to stir up trouble stepped forward to provoke them:
"Seraphina Quinn, everyone in Aurelium knows that Mr. Morgan, Landon Morgan, is your ex-fiancé. You showing up at the engagement party of Mr. Morgan and Miss Grant... isn't it you who wants to ruin it?"
Just then, Rosalind Grant appeared, dressed in an evening gown.
As she approached, Ivy Sharp rushed up to her.
"Miss Grant, you're finally here! This shameless, degenerate slut, Seraphina Quinn, is definitely up to no good at your engagement party. You have to get someone to throw her out! What if Mr. Morgan falls for her tricks..."
Rosalind Grant ignored her.
She walked straight up to Seraphina Quinn.
Ivy Sharp was still talking: "Miss Grant, if Seraphina Quinn hadn't broken off the engagement back then, Mr. Morgan would have been wrapped around her little finger long ago..."
Although Landon Morgan didn't love her, hearing this idiot Ivy Sharp say it out loud in public still made Rosalind Grant feel utterly humiliated.
She raised a hand and slapped Ivy Sharp across the face before turning to Seraphina Quinn, a deep smile playing on her lips.
"I'd also like to know what you mean by showing up uninvited."
Seraphina Quinn made no effort to hide her financial desperation:
"I need money. Buckley said she would introduce me to a part-time job. I didn't know this was your engagement party..."
Rosalind Grant nodded and said:
"It's my big day, so I'm in a good mood. How about this: you kneel and offer me three toasts. The first, to wish Landon Morgan and me a long and happy life together. The second, to wish us a house full of children and grandchildren. And the third, to wish us... eternal fortune and longevity." She paused. "For each glass, I'll give you this much..."
As she spoke, Rosalind Grant held up one finger. "One hundred thousand per glass. How about it?"
Blatant humiliation!
But when faced with utter destitution, her pride was worthless.
Her son was out of money for his medicine. She needed the money.
Just as Seraphina Quinn was about to kneel, a tall, dark figure strode over.
At the same time, a man's voice snapped at Rosalind Grant, "Rosalind Grant, what the hell are you doing?"
Rosalind Grant saw it was Landon Morgan, and her eyes reddened with anger:
"What? Did humiliating her strike a nerve? If you feel so sorry for her, then don't fucking get engaged to me! See if our families will agree to that."
Upstairs, Damian Fairchild, who had been watching everything with cold detachment, let out a short laugh.
The laugh was so scornful that everyone instinctively looked up at him.
He was dressed in a Zhongshan suit, looking as handsome and imposing as a king surveying his domain.
He sneered, his words directed at Seraphina Quinn:
"Seraphina, being humiliated to this extent... why don't you beg me instead? I'm more sentimental about our past than they are. I might just help you out."