Chapter 2 The Transaction
1126 Words
The man remained still until Megan gathered her courage to climb onto his shoulders, whispering softly, "Mr. Lambert..."
"Phew—"
Liam exhaled sharply, tossing the covers aside as he positioned himself over her. "Your name's Megan, right?" he murmured.
She bit her lip and gave a quiet "Mm."
Under the lamplight, her eyes shimmered with unmistakable shyness. Liam let out a low chuckle before reaching to switch off the light.
Darkness enveloped them, and Megan released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, some tension leaving her body.
His cool fingertips brushed her cheek. "How much does your family need?"
Her fingers twisted in the sheets as she stammered, "F-four hundred thousand."
"Hmm." Liam rolled onto his back beside her. "I've seen your records—your college entrance exam results were impressive. Give me a son, and I'll send you abroad to study. That family of yours... you should cut ties."
His words made her pulse race, but Megan dared not hope.
After a pause, she ventured carefully, "And... if it's a girl?"
Liam closed his eyes, considering. "A girl means just the money. My family... prefers a male heir."
She gave another quiet "Mm," careful to keep her face blank.
"I'm tired," he said finally. "Your turn on top."
"...Okay."
That night held none of yesterday's pain—only fleeting pleasure. When it ended, Liam had already passed out, while Megan lay curled up, staring wide-eyed at the duvet, her mind racing.
***
At dawn, Liam was gone as usual. A stack of bills sat on the nightstand—three times thicker than yesterday's.
The sight pulled a faint smile from her. These days, only cash could make her feel safe.
Once again, the driver took her home. But before she reached her doorstep, sharp whispers cut through the air:
"That's her. A nice girl like her, selling herself like that."
"You're lying! Don't spread such rumors!"
"Ha! The loan shark told me himself—her neck was covered in love bites yesterday!"
Megan froze mid-step, her gaze snapping toward the gossiping women.
The pair exchanged glances before turning away abruptly, pretending innocence.
Her grip on the black bag turned bone-white, veins standing out against her skin. She bit her lip hard, forcing herself to walk on.
The rustling of her bag faded as she left, but the women immediately resumed:
"Heard her gambling dad made her sell herself for debts."
"What kind of monster does that?!"
They jumped when a voice like frozen steel cut in: "Shouldn't you busybodies watch your own husbands instead?"
"Yikes!"
They whirled to find a towering man leaning on a bat, grinning dangerously at them.
Wyatt slung the baton over his shoulder with a bad-boy smirk. "Spotted Uncle Carr ducking into that rub-and-tug joint down the block the other day, Auntie Lane. That ring any bells?"
The woman's eyes nearly popped out of her head before she whirled around, rolling up her sleeves as she stomped off cussing up a storm.
Wyatt gave a cold laugh, then pinned the other busybody with a look. The woman didn't need telling twice—she forced a nervous giggle and booked it out of there.
With a frustrated growl, Wyatt hurled the baton to the ground. His knuckles turned white as his stare bored into the spot where Megan had vanished.
*****
In neighborhoods like this, gossip traveled faster than a t****k trend.
Megan felt it now—the sideways glances, the whispered judgments clinging to her skin like sticky sweat. Their ogling made her want to peel her flesh off, leaving her exposed and raw.
When she finally shoved through the front door, her stomach dropped. The living room looked like a frat house after rush week—again.
"Did they come back...?" Her face went sheet-white.
"Nah." Nolan sat slumped at the table, heaving a world-weary sigh. "Your stepmom's handiwork. Threw a tantrum about divorcing me."
Megan stayed quiet.
Truth was? She got it.
Gambling debts were quicksand—the more you struggled, the deeper you sank. Staying married to that would be downright insane.
Mr. Lambert's words echoed in her skull: *"That family of yours? Cut the cord."*
Her lips pressed into a bloodless line, emotions warring beneath the surface.
From the bedroom came hiccuping sobs. Megan shoved the chaos down and hurried inside.
"Auntie."
She dropped the stuffed money bag beside Sheila, keeping her voice gentle. "There's 150K here. When the sharks come circling, hand it over. Don't let Dad blow it at the tables."
Sheila's tears evaporated instantly. Her eyes lit up like slot machine cherries as she patted Megan's hand with sudden saccharine sweetness. "Megan, honey... my poor girl. Don't you worry, not a penny's going near him."
Something about that smile set Megan's teeth on edge. But she couldn't put her finger on why.
All she managed was a stiff nod.
Outside, Nolan's voice boomed: "Megan! Wyatt's here!"
She yanked her hand free and bolted out.
Wyatt leaned against the wall like the poster boy for troublemaker chic—daring you to call him a nice guy. The second Megan appeared, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the alley.
"Hey!"
His grip bit into her flesh. When they reached a shadowy corner, she finally wrenched free. "Get off me!"
Wyatt caged her against the rough brick, his gaze doing a full-body scan. "Tell me you didn't actually sell yourself."
No marks. No bruises. His shoulders started to unclench—
"So what if I did?" Megan snapped, shoving at his chest. "Move. I'm leaving."
"Megan!"
Fury flashed white-hot in his gaze. He slammed her back against the unforgiving wall, disbelief twisting his handsome features.
"What the hell were you thinking?"Megan was pinned against the rough concrete wall, her flimsy shirt doing nothing to cushion the scrape of crumbling concrete against her skin. She sucked in a ragged breath between clenched teeth before meeting Wyatt's burning gaze with hollow calm. "My father owes forty thousand," her voice was toneless. "The loan sharks swore they'd take his fingers first, then his kneecaps..."
Unable to withstand the fury in his eyes, she turned away, staring at a stubborn dandelion pushing through the cracked pavement. Her whisper cracked, "There was no other way."
"For chump change like that?" Wyatt's fingers dug into her shoulders, his face twisting with anguish. "You'd put yourself on the damn market for this?"
Megan's voice shredded raw as she screamed, "WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" Tears welled as she shoved him back with all her strength. Wyatt staggered, momentarily stunned, but before she could flee, his hand shot out to grab her wrist. The world tilted violently—then his angular face filled her vision, his mouth crashing toward hers.
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