Chapter 4

Crystal POV

Hiding in the narrow galley, I leaned against the cold metal cabinet door, gasping for breath.

My hands were still trembling. My stomach was churning; the after-effects of half a bottle of red wine were kicking in.

I dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to keep myself sober.

Crystal, you can't cry. If you cry, you lose.

When you walked away with fifty million, you should have known this day would come. That fifty million?

I didn't spend a single cent on myself. It all went into that bottomless pit. But I couldn't say anything. If I did, Damian, that lunatic, would tear his whole family apart.

Back then, he was on the precipice of securing control of his family's empire; any wrong move would shatter him. So, I had to be the bad guy. I had to be the vain, mercenary, and treacherous woman.

Just then, the intercom in the galley rang. I jumped, hesitated, but picked it up.

"Crystal, Damian wants you back in." It was Tiffany's voice, tinged with schadenfreude. "He said you haven't finished your 'special services'."

I closed my eyes, then opened them, and hung up. I straightened my disheveled uniform and forced a standard professional smile into the mirror. Whether he wanted to hit me or curse me, I had to take it. As long as he paid.

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