Page 8
She blinked. “For me?”
He turned the screen toward her, stunned. “Twenty five million dollars. Just for anyone who can connect them to you.”
Krystal shot up, legs folded beneath her as she brushed her hair back from her face. “Twenty five million? That would cover every penny I lost by not working these past two years.”
“Cover it?” Darren laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “We wouldn’t just break even—we’d be rolling in money. Back in the game, living big again. This is insane! Should I accept it?”
Krystal, who had been grinning alongside him, suddenly sobered. The excitement drained from her face as a shadow of concern replaced it. She looked at Darren, then shook her head.
“No. Don’t accept it.”
Darren’s smile faded. He straightened up, confused. “What? That’s a shit-ton of money, honey. You want me to negotiate for more?”
She shook her head again, slower this time. Her voice dropped. “It’s exactly because of that kind of money I ended up meeting that rich asshole two years ago. And what did I get out of it?” Her voice broke slightly. “He drugged me. I barely escaped the bar alive. Then I was dragged into some random drugged guy’s car and lost my virginity to him.”
She went quiet, the memories flooding back hard. That night still haunted her.
A hand had yanked her into a Mercedes. She hadn’t even seen who it was—just a blur. The drug in her system had made her vulnerable, unable to fight back or think straight. The man was out of it too. She could tell that he was also given an aphrodisiac. And in that wild, blurry moment, they’d ended up having a one-night stand right there in the car.
It had been her first time.
And she had no clue who the man was.
The shame still clung to her. By the time she had regained enough awareness, she had scrambled into her clothes and ran—confused, panicked—never once looking back at the stranger she had just slept with.
She exhaled shakily. “High money comes with high risks. And Twenty Five million? That kind of money doesn’t come without consequences.”
Darren stared at her for a beat, then nodded firmly. “You’re right. It’s not worth it. We’re not risking your safety for any amount of cash.”
Krystal sat up straight, her knees pulled to her chest. “Did you ever find out who that man was? The one I slept with that night?”
“I tried,” Darren said with a sigh. “I searched everywhere around that bar. Nothing. He must’ve been someone powerful. I deleted the CCTV footage from that night, but all it showed was his back as he stumbled into the car—and yours too. I even checked the license plate. It’s protected. Super confidential stuff. That guy had to be someone rich and very well-connected.”
Just then, Krystal’s phone buzzed on the table. The name ‘Damion’ flashed across the screen.
Her face lit up instantly. A soft smile curved her lips as she snatched up the phone. “Hi, Damion!”
“You finally done with that little vacation of yours?” came the deep, gravelly voice on the other end, laced with a hint of amusement.
“I am,” she said, leaning back into the couch, voice light. “Officially back to work.”
“Good.” His voice turned thoughtful. “I’ve got a patient. I need your help.”
“You’re a doctor yourself, Damion,” she teased, grinning. She was one of the few people who knew the truth—that Damion Cage, the man who ran Bristen Hospital and half of Cage Group, was also a gifted surgeon, though he rarely took on cases. “Why would a genius call another genius?”
He gave a low laugh. “Because I don’t touch nerves. You do.”
Then his voice lowered, serious and clipped. “It’s a high-profile case. The patient is important to someone… very powerful. If she dies on the table, the one treating her is done for. I trust you. Help me out, and I’ll owe you one.”
Krystal stifled a laugh, eyes still on her phone. “Well,” she said smoothly into the call, “I’d be a fool to pass up a favor from themighty Damion Cage. Text me the hospital and room number. I’ll be there soon.”
***
Lorenzo sat behind his desk in his home office, eyes fixed on the photo in front of him.
Krystal’s smile stared back at him.
His laptop sat open beside it, work half-done, completely forgotten. His brow was furrowed, jaw tense, eyes fixed on her image like it could answer every damn question in his head.
He turned the screen toward her, stunned. “Twenty five million dollars. Just for anyone who can connect them to you.”
Krystal shot up, legs folded beneath her as she brushed her hair back from her face. “Twenty five million? That would cover every penny I lost by not working these past two years.”
“Cover it?” Darren laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “We wouldn’t just break even—we’d be rolling in money. Back in the game, living big again. This is insane! Should I accept it?”
Krystal, who had been grinning alongside him, suddenly sobered. The excitement drained from her face as a shadow of concern replaced it. She looked at Darren, then shook her head.
“No. Don’t accept it.”
Darren’s smile faded. He straightened up, confused. “What? That’s a shit-ton of money, honey. You want me to negotiate for more?”
She shook her head again, slower this time. Her voice dropped. “It’s exactly because of that kind of money I ended up meeting that rich asshole two years ago. And what did I get out of it?” Her voice broke slightly. “He drugged me. I barely escaped the bar alive. Then I was dragged into some random drugged guy’s car and lost my virginity to him.”
She went quiet, the memories flooding back hard. That night still haunted her.
A hand had yanked her into a Mercedes. She hadn’t even seen who it was—just a blur. The drug in her system had made her vulnerable, unable to fight back or think straight. The man was out of it too. She could tell that he was also given an aphrodisiac. And in that wild, blurry moment, they’d ended up having a one-night stand right there in the car.
It had been her first time.
And she had no clue who the man was.
The shame still clung to her. By the time she had regained enough awareness, she had scrambled into her clothes and ran—confused, panicked—never once looking back at the stranger she had just slept with.
She exhaled shakily. “High money comes with high risks. And Twenty Five million? That kind of money doesn’t come without consequences.”
Darren stared at her for a beat, then nodded firmly. “You’re right. It’s not worth it. We’re not risking your safety for any amount of cash.”
Krystal sat up straight, her knees pulled to her chest. “Did you ever find out who that man was? The one I slept with that night?”
“I tried,” Darren said with a sigh. “I searched everywhere around that bar. Nothing. He must’ve been someone powerful. I deleted the CCTV footage from that night, but all it showed was his back as he stumbled into the car—and yours too. I even checked the license plate. It’s protected. Super confidential stuff. That guy had to be someone rich and very well-connected.”
Just then, Krystal’s phone buzzed on the table. The name ‘Damion’ flashed across the screen.
Her face lit up instantly. A soft smile curved her lips as she snatched up the phone. “Hi, Damion!”
“You finally done with that little vacation of yours?” came the deep, gravelly voice on the other end, laced with a hint of amusement.
“I am,” she said, leaning back into the couch, voice light. “Officially back to work.”
“Good.” His voice turned thoughtful. “I’ve got a patient. I need your help.”
“You’re a doctor yourself, Damion,” she teased, grinning. She was one of the few people who knew the truth—that Damion Cage, the man who ran Bristen Hospital and half of Cage Group, was also a gifted surgeon, though he rarely took on cases. “Why would a genius call another genius?”
He gave a low laugh. “Because I don’t touch nerves. You do.”
Then his voice lowered, serious and clipped. “It’s a high-profile case. The patient is important to someone… very powerful. If she dies on the table, the one treating her is done for. I trust you. Help me out, and I’ll owe you one.”
Krystal stifled a laugh, eyes still on her phone. “Well,” she said smoothly into the call, “I’d be a fool to pass up a favor from themighty Damion Cage. Text me the hospital and room number. I’ll be there soon.”
***
Lorenzo sat behind his desk in his home office, eyes fixed on the photo in front of him.
Krystal’s smile stared back at him.
His laptop sat open beside it, work half-done, completely forgotten. His brow was furrowed, jaw tense, eyes fixed on her image like it could answer every damn question in his head.
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