After I Jumped, He Finally Believed Me

The cold radiating off him told me everything I needed to know. No amount of explaining would make him believe me.

I watched them walk away, their silhouettes shrinking down the corridor, and I called Rosalie back to say I'd do it. I'd go entertain Mr. Lambert.

In the backstage dressing room at the Rose Lounge, I pressed a powder puff over the blood on my face until it disappeared, then changed into a sequined tube top that barely covered my chest and a tight miniskirt that hugged my hips. Then I walked into Mr. Lambert's private room.

I had just settled onto his bulging lap and started pouring his drink when Silas walked in carrying a contract.

His gaze swept over my exposed outfit and the way I was draped over another man. Pure rage burned behind his eyes.

But he was here for business. He swallowed it down, schooled his expression, and extended a hand to Lambert.

"Mr. Lambert, here's the purchase contract for the Westside property. Take a look and let me know if anything needs adjusting."

Lambert took the contract but didn't bother opening it. Instead he leaned in close to my neck, his lips curling into a sleazy grin. "Sweetheart, you like money, don't you? How about I sell that piece of land and give every penny to you, hm?"

Before I could even respond, Silas's fist was already crashing into the side of Lambert's head.

The room erupted into chaos. Silas tore through it like a storm, and Lambert staggered back, eyes vicious, jabbing a finger at him. "You little punk, you actually dare hit me?"

"If I'd brought my guys today, I'd have put you in the ground! And that Westside lot? Deal's off. Let's see how your company's new project survives without it!"

After Lambert stormed out, the reality settled over me like ice water. Rosalie was going to dock my pay again.

I had to find someone to cover the tab before she walked in.

I met Silas's eyes, then looped my arms around his neck and smiled up at him.

"You scared off my client, Silas. So how exactly do you plan on making it up to me?"

His knuckles went white as he gripped my chin, tilting my face up. His gaze was dark, cutting.

"The three months I was gone. This is what you were doing? Seducing men for money?"

I lowered my eyes and let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

If I hadn't been told he was trapped in the Syndicate Compound, suffering unspeakable things, I never would have been desperate enough to end up here, pouring drinks and sitting on strangers' laps.

He'd lied to me. Stolen my money. And now he had the nerve to stand there and judge me from above?

Something snapped. I grabbed his face between my hands and bit into his lips, hard, tearing at them until the taste of copper flooded my throat. Only then did I stop.

"You already have Penelope. Why do you care how I make a living?"

His expression went terrifyingly dark. In one sharp motion, he ripped the fabric from my chest, exposing the constellation of round, puckered scars where clients had stubbed out their cigarettes on my skin.

He shoved me down onto the couch, pinning me beneath him, when Penelope appeared in the doorway, one hand resting on her pregnant belly.

She took in the sight of me, clothes torn, hair disheveled, and the corner of her mouth curled into an amused little smile.

"Hildie, didn't you say your mom was really sick? Well, guess who I brought to see you."

I lifted my head and saw my mother standing in the doorway.

Her face was ashen. She stared at Silas on top of me, and her eyes went red in an instant.

Her illness had progressed so far that I was the only person she still recognized. She couldn't tell who the man pinning me down was. All she knew was that someone was hurting her daughter.

She lunged forward to pull him off me.

But Penelope caught her arm, smiling sweetly as she explained my line of work.

"Mrs. Henson, Hildie's new job is wonderful. She earns tens of thousands a month just keeping men company. You really don't need to worry about her supporting herself anymore."

"You should be so proud. You raised such a resourceful daughter."

My mother pounded her fists against her own chest, her voice cracking with fury. "Hilda Henson, this is what I raised? A shameless daughter like you?"