Chapter 92
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reston would arrive tomorrow. That knowledge lodged itself inside Georgia like a shard of broken glass, wedged so deeply she couldn’t extract it, couldn’t ignore its slicing edge. Helplessness sank heavy into her chest. The hours until his arrival felt like a narrowing tunnel with no exit, only darkness waiting at the end. She racked her brain, clawing for solutions, but every thought turned up empty, bitter with the metallic taste of fear. There was no way she could gather the rest of the money in time.
Larkin left her dormitory building without a backward glance, the echo of his footsteps swallowed by the silent corridor. When he finally reached his car, he sat there for a moment in the dim interior, resting his head back against the seat. A hollow ache throbbed inside him, an emptiness that spread through his bones with the chill of winter. It was that cold, pointless void that always came after a game ended, after the hunt was over and the prey lay defeated. He exhaled slowly. almost weary, then started the engine and turned onto the road that would take him back to Sapphire Tide Pack.
His departure stole away the last fragile thread of hope Georgia had clung to. As his silhouette disappeared, so did the faint warmth his presence had stirred in her. She felt her chest cave in on itself. An aching vacancy replaced her brief, flickering illusion of life. She moved through the dorm room in silence, each step numb and mechanical
Larkin had embedded himself in her pain like a thorn that refused to dislodge, burying himself deeper with every touch to her scar. She hadn’t understood it–how his repeated contact wasn’t just about the scar itself, but about marking himself onto her misery, branding her pain with his existence.
He was a predator in human skin, fluent in the nuances of his prey. He had sensed every subtle shift within her. He knew precisely what each touch ignited in her chest. She had remained oblivious to his quiet mastery. In the end, he had won their hunting game without even breaking a sweat.
The following day, the moment Georgia stepped through the threshold of Vetro Club, Charlotte’s voice cut into her from across the lobby. “Georgia, come to the office.”
Georgia trudged down the hall, feeling as if the floor both her were mumbling away piece by piece. When she entered, Charlotte was seated behind her desk, her ey Chapter Unlocked, Enjoy Reading!
“Did you get the money?” Charlotte asked directly, her gaze sharp with worry.
Georgia shook her head, unable to force any words past the dryness of her throat
Charlotte’s brows drew together. “You didn’t ask Larkin?”
Lowering her gaze to the floor, Georgia stayed silent, shame curling hot and suffocating in her chest.
Charlotte’s sigh was a weary, broken thing. “We never know what’s in the minds of guests,” she said softly, her voice a thin attempt at comfort, though both women knew no words could fix this.
A moment of silence stretched between them before Charlotte spoke again, her tone stripped of hope. “Georgia, I have bad news. Mr. Hill called. He’s coming today. But-” She paused to glance at the clock on her phone. “There’s good news too.
He’ll be late. You have another hour.”
Charlotte hesitated, her eyes flicking up to meet Georgia’s. “Georgia, I have a hundred thousand dollars. But I can’t give it to you.” She spoke plainly, guiltless, her expression hard with the burden of her own limits. She had already helped hide Georgia’s earnings from Preston’s spies. She had done all she could.
Georgia nodded and managed a hollow smile. “Thank you, Charlotte. You’ve already done enough. I understand… and would’ve done the same in your place.”
Turning from the office, she closed the door behind her and stood in the hall for a moment, gathering what little remained of her composure. She would find a way to get the money, or she would accept whatever fate Preston decided for her.
There were no other choices.
She pressed the elevator button and stepped in, the walls reflecting her hollow–eyed face back at her. As the doors slid open on the next floor, her body went rigid.
Standing outside the elevator was a man she had not seen in years. His eyes widened at the sight of her, shock loosening
his lips
“Georgia…” he whispered, his voice trembling
Blood drained from her face. Her throat seized up before she forced out in a soft, detached voice, “Sir, you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m not Georgia.”
She reached out to press the button to close the doors, desperate to shut him out of her sight.
“Wait!” The man shoved forward, forcing himself into the elevator before the doors shut. He grabbed her wrist, his grip trembling but firm “Georgia, it’s you. I’d never mistake you for anyone else.”
“I’m not. Sir, please let go. You’re mistaken,” she said, her tone icy and controlled, though every bone in her body was vibrating with tension.
He clutched her shoulders, his voice cracking with emotion. “Georgia, how could I not know you? I’m your brother. I’m so sorry. I think about you every day. It’s my fault–I’m useless, Georgia, has anyone hurt you in there? Why do you look so….. broken?”
Something inside her snapped. Rage boiled up from deep within, swirling with betrayal and hatred until she could barely see straight.
“Stop it! Just shut up!” Her voice rose, ragged with suppressed fury.
She stared at him, her eyes blazing. “You miss me? You feel guilty? It’s been three years. In all that time, did you or anyone else from Silver Stream Pack ever visit me in that hellhole they called prison? You’re asking how I’ve been? Look at me. Look at what I am now.”
“Georgia, I’m sorry Hugo Cooper whispered, shame creasing every line of his face.
She let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Sorry? I would’ve been grateful if even once–just once–you or any of your pack had come to see me. But don’t bother apologizing. We don’t owe each other anything anymore.”
She stepped back from his grip and squared her shoulders. “Now get out of my way. I have to make money.”
“Make money?” he echoed, confused
She turned her face to him, her eyes hollow and flat. “Yes. Make money from men, of course. Why else would I be working here? For fun, like you? No. I’m here to please guests, to make them happy. That’s how I survive.”
Hugo recoiled as if struck, staring at her as though she had turned into a stranger before his eyes. His voice cracked with anger and disbelief. “Georgia, how could you. How could you let yourself fall this far? This isn’t you. You’re the girl who used to stand proud in front of Preston, unbreakable. You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying. You can’t be… this.”
Georgia clenched her jaw so tightly she thought her teeth might shatter. For a moment, her vision blurred with tears she refused to let fall.
Then she forced herself to look at him, to see not the brother she had once adored, but a man standing between her and survival.
“Let me borrow a hundred thousand dollars,” she said, her voice even, almost polite. “W
“We share blood, don’t we? I was your sister for many years. Help me, Hugo. Just this once.”
He hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his features. “What for?”
“I owe Preston money,” she said flatly, letting his name hang heavy in the silence between them. “It’s nothing to you, but it means everything to me. Please. Just this once.”
If there had been any other way, she would never have lowered herself like this. She wouldn’t have stood here asking him for anything. But her options had withered to nothing. This was the only path left.
For a brief, fragile second, hope flickered in her chest–hope that perhaps, this time, her bloodline would save her.
But as soon Hugo heard Preston’s name, his expression shifted. Guilt and fear flickered in his eyes, and he stammered, “I’m sorry.”
The world tilted. Georgia felt her knees buckle under the weight of his rejection. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice thin, almost childlike in its disbelief.
Chapter 92
“Back then,” Hugo whispered, his face pale, “Mr. Hill sent a message to Silver Stream Pack. He said… he said we could only choose one–him or you.”
He swallowed hard, shame warping his voice into something barely recognizable. “Georgia, I’m sorry. Our parents… they’re getting old. They’re fragile.”
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