Chapter 2

"Vivian, spacing out?"

Carter's deep voice dragged me back to the present.

He had stood up and was now looming right in front of me.

Seven years had sharpened him into a lethal, commanding force.

A custom Tom Ford suit, a Patek Philippe watch worth a penthouse, and an aura of absolute dominance that money alone couldn't buy.

"I heard you specialize in entertaining wealthy old men these days," he said aloud. His tone wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for every person in the room to hear.

Silence fell over the suite.

I lifted my chin and met his burning gaze.

"Where did you hear that ridiculous rumor, Mr. Hayes?"

"Does someone need to tell me?" Carter yanked his tie loose, his lips twisting into a vicious smirk. "Working in a club like this, dressed like this... aren't you displaying your price tag to the highest bidder?"

Chloe giggled behind her hand. "Carter, don't be so harsh. Vivian is just doing what she has to do to survive..."

"To survive?" Carter stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing against mine. "Tell me, Vivian. How much for a night? For old time's sake, I'll put you on a monthly retainer."

His breath ghosted over my lips, smelling faintly of expensive scotch.

The humiliating stares of my former classmates dug into my skin.

I didn't flinch. Instead, I slowly bent my knees and crouched down.

His wine glass had shattered completely. The dark red liquid was pooled around sharp shards, staining the hem of my club-issued white trench coat like bloodstains.

I picked up the pieces of glass one by one.

A jagged edge sliced right across my palm. Scarlet blood welled up, dripping down into the spilled wine.

I didn't stop.

The VIP room was eerily quiet, filled only with the faint clinking of glass shards in my hand.

Finally, having gathered every major fragment, I squeezed them tightly in my bleeding palm.

I stood back up, looking straight into Carter's furious eyes, and smiled brightly.

"Sure thing, Mr. Hayes."

His jaw tightened.

I tilted my head, keeping my voice sweet and steady. "However, my rates have recently spiked. I charge by the minute now. One thousand dollars a minute. Are you sure your black card can handle that?"

Someone gasped audibly.

Carter narrowed his eyes dangerously.

I pulled a cocktail napkin from the tray, casually wiped the blood from my hand, and dropped the ultimate bomb:

"After all, your fiancée, Evelyn Vance, offered me half a million dollars last month just to be your surrogate. And I turned her down."

Boom.

The room exploded into stunned chaos.

"Fiancée?! Carter is engaged?!"

"Wait, Evelyn Vance from the Vance Conglomerate?!"

"Surrogacy?! Are you kidding me?!"

Carter's face darkened like a thundercloud.

His fiancée, Evelyn Vance, indeed came to see me in secret last month.

In an upscale private café, wearing oversized dark sunglasses, she had pushed a blank check toward me.

"Ms. Hall, I know you're drowning in debt," she had said coolly. "Five hundred thousand dollars. Carry Carter's baby for me. He has never truly moved on from you. If our child carries half of your genetics, he'll actually love it."

I had thrown an entire cup of iced Americano straight into her face.

"Ms. Vance, karma always collects its debts."

Turns out, karma was remarkably punctual.

Suddenly, Carter lunged forward, grabbing my wrist in a grip tight enough to snap my bones.

"Repeat that."

Pain flared through my arm, but my smile remained razor-sharp.

"I said: your fiancée, Evelyn Vance, offered me half a million dollars to carry your child."

His pupils dilated in sheer shock.

I took advantage of his stunned state to twist my arm out of his grasp and stepped back.

"It seems you were left in the dark, Mr. Hayes. Not surprising—Ms. Vance made it very clear this was her own little project. She wanted to surprise you once the pregnancy test came back positive."

I cast a sweeping glance across the room, taking in all the pale, scandalized faces of my former classmates.

"So, ladies and gentlemen, do we need more wine? If not, my shift is over. After all..." I glanced at my watch, then back at Carter. "At one thousand a minute, you just wasted three minutes of my time. Shall I put three thousand dollars on your tab, Mr. Hayes?"

Without waiting for an answer, I turned on my heels, pulled open the heavy suite doors, and walked out.

The icy draft of the corridor slapped my face like a lifeline.