Chapter 7
507words
He mocks, "You really think you're worth your weight in gold?"
I already anticipated he would say that.
"You previously spent one million just to hear a 'good night'."
"Now it's five hundred thousand for a whole night, and it's the real person live version."
"Mr. Theodore, you're getting a bargain."
I coldly retort, not yielding an inch.
Theodore stares at me intently.
After a long while, he reluctantly compromises through gritted teeth.
"Deal."
He sneers, unbuttoning his shirt collar, revealing a large area of pale skin.
"If you can't make me fall asleep."
"Even if it's just one second short."
"I'll make you cough up every penny of this money."
"Now."
He suddenly grabs my wrist.
A tremendous force comes upon me.
The world spins around.
I'm thrown onto that spacious king-sized black bed.
The mattress is soft like a trap.
Before I can get up, a burning hot body presses down on me.
"What are you doing?"
I frown, pushing against his chest.
"The service only includes voice, not physical contact."
"Five hundred thousand."
Theodore buries his head in the crook of my neck, his voice trembling with pain.
"For such an expensive price, how can I not collect some interest?"
"Don't move."
His arms lock around my waist.
His whole body wraps around me like an octopus.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
And that strong scent of cedar and male pheromones that belongs to him.
"I need a pillow to hug."
He closes his eyes, his eyelashes trembling.
"You are my debtor, and also my asset."
"If you don't want me to take you right now, shut up."
"Sing."
This is blatant humiliation.
He's treating me like some high-class escort charged by the hour.
Or like before, his mute wife whom he could mold however he pleased.
I stare at the ceiling, restraining the urge to kick him off the bed.
I came here to make money.
I came here to repay a debt.
He is a client.
Also a pitiful madman.
Taking a deep breath.
I open my mouth.
Siren's voice flows through the dim bedroom filled with ambiguous tension.
Deep.
Gentle.
With a specific frequency that can smooth out the wrinkles of neural pathways.
This is science.
And also magic.
The body in my arms, as tense as stone, stiffens for a moment when the sound begins.
Then.
Visibly softens.
The violent rage, like a beach smoothed by the tide, gradually recedes.
Theodore's breathing changes from rapid to steady.
The hand gripping my waist slowly relaxes its force.
But he doesn't let go.
Instead, he holds on tighter.
He nuzzles his head against my neck.
Like a large dog seeking comfort, completely without the aggression he shows while awake.
Ironic, isn't it?
The man who screamed threats at me during the day.
Now curled up in my arms, relying on my voice to sustain him.
I continue humming coldly, looking at the rain outside the window.
Theodore, you are asleep.
But I am awake.
This hunt has only just begun.
