Chapter 9
#Chapter 9
I gasped in shock. "What fees?"
"What do you mean what fees? I just serviced you twice. That's $280,000. Not a penny less."
His sudden change in attitude terrified me, but I was still struggling to process it.
I clung to a sliver of hope. "Tyler, are you joking with me?"
"Joking?" He sneered. "Look at you. You're old and worn out. What's fun about that? I'm dead serious. $280,000. Not a single cent less. Or I'll send the video to your husband and sell it online."
He gave a cold laugh and waved the necklace at me.
Then he showed me the video on his phone.
I watched my own intoxicated, blurred self on the screen. My face turned green with fury.
"You hid a camera in the necklace before?"
I snatched the phone, trying to delete the video.
Seeing my move, he spoke with an icy tone. "Go ahead, delete it. It's auto-synced to the cloud. To be honest, the video from your first time is already burned onto a disc. Want to see it? Or should your husband see it?"
I was terrified. "What do you want?"
"Granny, are you deaf from old age? I've said it a thousand times. I want money! $280,000 to delete the videos. Or I'll email it to your husband's company."
"Your husband's company is called Winston Group, right?"
The sounds from the video kept playing, a cruel reminder of my foolish mistakes.
I had even thought about cutting ties with them completely after this...
Tyler laughed. "See? Two men working so hard to please you. Your husband could never make you feel like this in a lifetime. Isn't $280,000 worth it?"
"I don't have $280,000. I only have $14,000. Take it if you want."
I threw the prepared bank card at him. This was the severance money we had ready.
"$14,000? You think I'm a beggar? I'll give you three options. First, keep bringing other women to our club. One woman knocks off $140,000. Second, like before, entertain wealthy clients. $70,000 a month. Third, work at our club. Two months of work covers $70,000."
"Oh, and I haven't told you the truth yet. Your dear friend Wendy used you to cover her $140,000 debt. But she has so many videos, it'll take forever to delete them all."
His words filled me with rage.
I never imagined Wendy would scheme against me like this. She jumped into the abyss and wanted to drag me down with her.
No wonder she kept badmouthing Ethan to me. It was all a ploy to pull me into this hell.
And that phone call I got earlier? Her taking out a QuickLoan was probably to pay Tyler back.
Liars!
They were all conniving liars!
"Where is that bitch Wendy? I'll make her pay!"
I was seething, ready to tear that wretched woman apart.
"Don't ask me. I don't care about your drama. You better figure out how to pay me first. I'm not a patient man."
My heart shattered completely.
How could I possibly gather that much money?
I had no income. I couldn't tell my husband or my family.
I couldn't think of any other way. I had to do what he said.
I couldn't drag another friend into this hell. I couldn't endure the torture from those perverted wealthy clients. So I chose the third option.
The next day, I started working at that club.
No fixed schedule.
No days off.
No choices.
Any time a male customer requested me, I had to go.
Thankfully, Ethan was away during this time. Otherwise, him seeing me getting called away every night would have raised suspicions.
He was my only hope now.
I told myself I just had to endure these few months. Then I could break free and start over.
I could return to his embrace.
But this life was pure agony...
At first, I could convince myself to accept it. But as time went on, the torture from those twisted customers pushed me to the brink of collapse.
Sometimes, there were even people with dangerous fetishes...
Whenever I had time, I was in that familiar private room. Singing with them, laughing with them, sleeping with them. Fulfilling their every depraved demand.
One time was permanently burned into my memory. A customer who looked refined and polite requested me. Heๅฆ็ฝ told me he had special preferences but would be careful with me.
I actually felt touched hearing that. But I never imagined his special preference was abuse!
He crazily choked my neck with his hands. He used various tools to leave marks all over my body.
He only let go when I was on the verge of passing out.
That day, if someone outside hadn't heard my screams and called the manager, I might have died by his hands.
But that was just the beginning. Countless similar incidents followed.
I didn't dare to remember.
Every night when I returned home, I would touch my wounds and cry uncontrollably.
I felt like I was sinking in quicksand. No matter how I struggled, I couldn't break free.
Finally, after three months, this nightmare ended.
I was about to leave for work.
The LAPD showed up at my door and blocked my way.