Crescentia left for Clara's place later that night, her heart aching as she thought of Noella lying alone in the hospital. Guilt gnawed at her, but Dr. Nathan had reassured her before she left. He had promised to check on Noella after his rounds and had also instructed the nurses to monitor her condition closely. That eased the tension in Crescentia's chest—at least a little.
She knew Clara's address by heart, but Clara had already confirmed she was home for the night.
The journey to Clara's apartment felt like an eternity, even though it was only a few blocks away. Her hands were clammy as she approached the small, modest building. The neighborhood was dimly lit, illuminated only by the streetlights. Even though it was well past 4 a.m., the streets were still alive—proof that the city never truly slept. People walked by, some in hushed conversations, others laughing drunkenly.
Crescentia hesitated before ringing the doorbell, a shiver running down her spine. As if Clara had been waiting, the door swung open almost instantly.
"Are you okay? Come inside quickly," Clara said, glancing up and down the street before pulling Crescentia in. She locked the door behind them, her brows furrowed in concern. "I told you to wait till sunrise. It's dangerous at this hour. What if something had happened to you?"
Warmth bloomed in Crescentia's chest. Clara was three years older, and in many ways, she treated Crescentia like a younger sister. But guilt settled in just as quickly—she felt like she had done nothing but bring Clara trouble, from the incident at the club to this.
"Don't worry, I brought a fork," Crescentia said, lifting the utensil as if it were a weapon.
Clara sighed, rubbing her temple. "A fork, Cress? Seriously?"
Crescentia only shrugged, forcing a smile. But deep down, she knew that no matter how much she tried to act tough, she was terrified.
Clara shook her head and led her to the couch.
"About what you told me earlier…" Clara hesitated, watching her carefully.
"I need to raise the money as soon as possible," Crescentia interrupted, her voice firm. "Noella needs urgent surgery. I'm sure I'm already fired anyway."
Clara exhaled heavily. "Not exactly. I spoke to the owner. He's willing to let you stay, but…" She hesitated, then sighed. "Being a hooker isn't as easy as you think. It's not just about the money, Cress. It's dangerous. Some girls have been diagnosed with some nasty diseases. Some have ended up in the hands of psychopaths—men who enjoy hurting women." Her icy blue eyes locked onto Crescentia's. "Yes, we have rules. Yes, we sue any client who harms the girls. But is this really what you want?"
Crescentia swallowed the lump in her throat. She already knew this wasn't going to be easy. But she didn't have time to second-guess herself.
"I'll only do it once or twice," she said, gripping the hem of her shirt. "And if you're worried, I'll carry this fork with me wherever I go."
Clara stared at her, searching for any sign of hesitation. Crescentia held her gaze, silently pleading.
"Please," she whispered. "Noella is all I have."
Clara closed her eyes for a moment before exhaling in defeat. "Fine. I'll set you up."
A few hours later, Clara handed Crescentia a small bundle of fabric.
"Here, try this on."
Crescentia judged the fabric as if she was staring at some kind of abomination in her hands. "What's this?"
"That's my new piece of lingerie. I've not worn it before and since you don't have any, you're going to be wearing that," Clara replied, searching deeper into her closet.
Crescentia held up the red lace panties, her eyes nearly bulging at how small and thin they were. "This barely covers anything."
"Yeah, that's the point." Clara rummaged through her closet again before handing over a matching bra. "And this is for you."
Crescentia's gaze flickered to Clara's chest, taking in the generous curves that the older woman had. A twinge of envy struck her. "Wait—where did you even get this? You're like… way bigger than me."
"I had this before I hit puberty." Clara smirked. "Now, let's get the camera ready."
Crescentia clutched the lingerie tightly, her skin crawling. Every part of her was screaming that this was a bad idea. But she wasn't going to back down. She was an adult now. Magnus had said it himself—she needed to make sacrifices if she wanted to survive.
She changed into the lingerie and stepped into the living room, where Clara had already set up a tripod and camera.
"All set?" Clara asked.
Crescentia nodded stiffly.
The photoshoot began. Clara guided her through different poses, instructing her on how to move, how to arch her back, and how to look seductive. It was awkward at first, but Crescentia forced herself to go through with it.
By the time they were finished, it was almost noon.
"Are you ready?" Clara asked as she prepared to upload the photos onto the club's private app.
Crescentia hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then she exhaled. "I'm ready."
A single click—and the photos were uploaded.
Her stomach twisted. Never in her life had she imagined she would resort to something like this. But when she thought about Noella, about her frail body hooked up to machines, Crescentia steeled herself.
"How long do you think it'll take before someone—"
"No way!" Clara suddenly gasped. "Cress, someone already made an offer. A hundred thousand dollars."
Crescentia choked on her saliva. "What?"
"There's no profile," Clara said, scrolling. "But he's one of our top five clients. Oh, and he wants you there by six p.m. That gives you four hours to get ready."
Her hands trembled as she accepted the offer.
Clara helped her with her makeup, styling her hair into soft curls before dressing her in a sleek, black dress.
"When will you be back?" Noella's weak voice asked over the phone.
"I should be back tomorrow," Crescentia said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I have some business to take care of. I'll call you later."
She hung up before Noella could ask anything else.
Clara walked her to the cab, squeezing her hand. "Be careful."
Crescentia nodded, stepping into the car.
Her mind raced as she stared out the window, thinking of all the ways her life could change with this money. She could pay Noella's hospital bills, rent an apartment, cover her college tuition… Maybe even start her own business.
Before she knew it, the cab pulled up in front of a massive mansion.
Her breath caught.
The towering estate was bathed in golden light, its grand structure both intimidating and beautiful.
She paid the driver, approached the gates, and gave her name. The gates opened smoothly, and she walked up to the entrance.
Heart pounding, she hesitated before ringing the bell.
The door swung open, revealing a man in a crisp butler's uniform.
"I'm Crescentia Belmore, and I—"
Her voice trailed off as her gaze landed on the man inside.
Familiar sharp eyes. That arrogant smirk.
"Hi, sweetheart."
Her stomach dropped.
'Mr. Bad driver.'