THE HUSTLERS

Episode 10:The rival’s shadow

Finally, Alexander stood up to leave. “Rest now, Jane. You’ve been through enough today.” He gave her one last reassuring nod before stepping out the door.

Once outside, Alexander walked to his shiny dark car parked in front of the crumbling building. He opened the driver’s door and slid inside. The moment he was alone, he inhaled sharply, drawing in a deep breath as if releasing tension. Then, slowly, a creepy smile spread across his handsome face — the kind, concerned expression melting away into something colder, more calculating. His eyes narrowed slightly, and the corners of his mouth curled in a way that no longer looked warm.

He picked up his phone from the center console. His fingers moved quickly as he dialed a number. The call connected after a couple of rings. Alexander’s voice changed when he spoke — lower, confident, with a hint of satisfaction.

“We have access to her now,” he said clearly into the phone. “Madam Cynthia won’t have this one. She is best suited for our business. I will bring her in myself in three weeks.”

He listened for a moment to the response on the other end, his creepy smile widening just a fraction. The conversation was short and direct. After a few more quiet words, he ended the call and placed the phone down. He sat there for another second in the car, staring at the door of Jane’s apartment building with that same unsettling expression. Then he started the engine and drove away slowly into the quiet streets of Willow Creek as the afternoon light began to fade.

Inside her room, Jane had no idea about the call or the smile. She lay on her thin mattress, surrounded by the new provisions — the milk, bread, fruits, and the large stack of cash. Her bruises ached, but the food and medicine had eased some of the pain. Exhaustion pulled at her heavily. She thought about Alexander’s kindness, the hospital discharge, the ride home, and the generous gifts. For the first time in a long while, someone had taken care of her without asking anything in return — or so it seemed. Yet deep down, the dilemma with Madam Cynthia still lingered in the back of her mind, mixing with this new encounter.

The day had been long and painful, but it ended with unexpected help. Jane closed her eyes, the milk and soup warming her empty stomach, and let sleep finally take her. The provisions sat quietly on the table, a small comfort in her lonely world. Tomorrow, Alexander had promised to check on her. For now, she rested, unaware of the darker plans unfolding around her.

Madam Cynthia sat in her elegant office far from the quiet streets of Willow Creek. The room was filled with soft light from a large window, expensive furniture, and the faint scent of her favorite floral perfume. She held her phone to her ear, listening carefully to the voice on the other end. Her intel — a trusted contact who kept eyes on everything in the underground world — was speaking quickly.

“Madam, I have news. Black Streak Company is interested in the girl too. They have been watching her. They want Jane for their operations.”

Madam Cynthia’s grip tightened on the phone. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into the smooth surface. Fury rose inside her like a storm. Black Streak Company. The name alone made her blood boil. It was run by her twin sister, the one person she hated more than anyone in the world.

She and her sister had once been close, growing up together in a difficult home. But after their parents died, everything changed. The inheritance, the pain, the competition — it tore them apart. Their paths had not crossed in years. They became rivals, each building her own dark empire in silence. Madam Cynthia had built Cynthia’s Helping Hands, luring struggling girls with promises of money for her dog business. The videos sold well through her partners, the Dog Men.

Her twin sister had taken a different route. Black Streak Company sold young ladies directly to wealthy men for money. It was a cold, transactional business — girls traded like goods, sent to private clients who paid top dollar for companionship and more. Since Cynthia had grown up poor and fought hard for every dollar, money was always a strong pull. The thought that her sister might take Jane — the perfect, resistant girl she had personally targeted — filled her with rage.

“How dare she,” Madam Cynthia whispered after ending the call. Her voice was low and sharp. She stood up and paced the room, her expensive heels clicking on the floor. Jane was special. The girl had turned down the first offer, showing strength that made her videos potentially more valuable. She was broke, lonely, with no family — the ideal type for the dog business. The horror waiting for her would break her slowly, but the money from investors would be huge. Madam Cynthia wanted her. Needed her. And now her hated twin was trying to snatch her away.