Chapter 4

Alex's voice came through the receiver, thick with sarcasm. "And here I thought you actually had some backbone."

My face went hot instantly, as if I'd been slapped in front of a crowd.

In that single moment, he had ground every last bit of my dignity into dust.

I bit down so hard on my lower lip that I tasted blood, and that was the only thing that kept me from crying.

"You're right. I don't have a backbone." My voice came out so hoarse I barely recognized it. "Alex, please. I'm begging you. Lend me a hundred and sixty thousand. I... I swear I'll pay you back."

"Pay me back?" He laughed again, and there was nothing but scorn in it. "With what? That thousand dollars a month you make at the gas station? Emily, you really don't know your limits."

The shame and humiliation crashed over me from all sides. My hand was shaking so badly I could barely keep hold of the phone.

"Then... what do you want me to do?" I heard myself ask, my voice trembling with a kind of desperate pleading that I hated even as I heard it.

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then he said, "Come to the Summit Club. Top-floor VIP lounge. I'll give you one hour."

And with that, he hung up, clean and quick.

I just stood there, staring at the dark screen, completely frozen.

I knew exactly what the Summit Club was. It was the most expensive playground in all of Emberton, the kind of place only people in Alex's world could afford.

So what did he mean by asking me to go there? A bad feeling began to take root in my chest.

But I didn't have a choice. My mother was still in the hospital, and that money was the only thing standing between her and death.

I dried my tears and took the fastest cab I could find to The Summit Club.

*****

Standing outside that gilded entrance, watching the well-dressed men and women glide past, I felt more out of place and ashamed of myself than I ever had before.

My faded T-shirt and worn-out jeans might as well have been a neon sign announcing that I didn't belong.

A doorman stopped me at the door, his eyes sweeping over me with undisguised skepticism. "Do you have a reservation, miss?"

I took a deep breath and gave him Alex's name.

His attitude shifted instantly. He gave a small bow and escorted me to the private elevator that served the top floor.

When the elevator doors opened, I found myself at the end of a long, lavish hallway facing a heavy carved wooden door, shut tight.

I stood there, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I knew that whatever awaited me on the other side would likely be more humiliation than I could bear.

But I had no other choice.

I raised my hand and pushed the door open. The lounge was dimly lit and hazy with cigarette smoke.

Alex sat on the central sofa, his legs crossed, his posture both relaxed and aristocratic.

A few wealthy heirs whose names I didn't know lounged around him, each with a pretty young woman nestled at his side.

And right next to Alex sat Claire White, as unmistakable as ever.

She wore a white Chanel dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders and her makeup perfectly applied, pouring him a drink with a sweet, practiced smile.

The moment I stepped inside, every pair of eyes in the room turned to me at once.

Some were curious, but most of them simply looked amused like they were settling in to watch a show.

The moment Claire saw me, her smile faltered for a split second before settling back into its usual poised elegance. Still, there was a flicker of something in her eyes, a hint of quiet triumph that was easy to miss.

Alex glanced up at me, his gaze distant and indifferent, like I was nothing more than an unwelcome interruption.

He idly swirled the wine in his glass, the deep red catching the light with a hypnotic shimmer.

"You made it," he said, his tone colder than the air-conditioned room.

I lingered by the doorway, suddenly unsure of myself, my hands awkwardly hovering as if I didn't quite belong anywhere.

"Sit." He motioned to the empty seat across from him.

After a brief hesitation, I forced myself forward and took the seat.

One of the guys let out a low whistle, his grin edged with mischief. "Alex, who's this? Someone new?"

Alex didn't answer right away. Instead, his eyes settled on me, and a faint, unreadable smile curved his lips. "Emily, do you know what today is?"

I stared at him, completely at a loss.

"It's Claire's welcome-back party," he went on, his tone unhurried.

The realization hit me like a weight dropping straight into my chest.

So this was where he had been—by her side, celebrating her return.

And I, it seemed, was nothing more than an unwelcome interruption, an awkward presence ruining the moment.

Claire chose that moment to speak, her voice soft and composed. "Alex, don't be like that. Ms. Lane wouldn't have come all this way unless it was something important."

As she spoke, she looked at me with a gentle, almost sympathetic expression, one that somehow still carried a quiet sense of superiority. "Ms. Lane, it's been a while. How have you been?"

The polite concern on her face only made my stomach turn.

I didn't respond to her. Instead, I kept my eyes on Alex, forcing myself to speak. "Alex... I need the money."

"No need to rush," he cut in, sliding a line of drinks across the table toward me. "You want the loan? Fine. Finish these first."