Chapter 21
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The specter of death hovered over Georgia, but then a flicker of light pierced the darkness–the memory of Maya.
Her mind snapped back to clarity.
She couldn’t give in–not yet. Maya’s wish still needed fulfillment.
Georgia’s eyes opened slowly. The room brightened as it always did.
She felt like a limp rag doll–bereft of fight–enduring scorn in silence.
Yet she had misjudged those girls.
Raven stepped forward, shoving Georgia harshly.
“Stop pretending to be helpless. You work here as a call girl–don’t act like you’re innocent. Yesterday, begging guests for mercy, you weren’t so high and mighty.”
Still unsatisfied, Raven kicked Georgia’s injured leg, sending her collapsing to the floor.
“Raven, ease up,” someone interjected. They enjoyed tormenting Georgia verbally, but hadn’t crossed into violence–until
now.
Raven smirked. “I barely used any strength. She’s just too weak.”
She snorted coldly and delivered another kick, treating Georgia like worthless trash.
“Enough with the act. Get up! Trying to play delicate princess or Cinderella? Too bad you’re ugly. More like a wicked witch.”
Raven spun, grinning viciously at the other call girls.
“Did I just kick a person or a dog? Honestly, I can’t tell.”
Laughter erupted.
“She’s right. That wasn’t a person.”
“Georgia, why don’t you bark?”
“Crawl on the floor like you did in the private room yesterday.”
Georgia struggled to rise amid the barrage of insults and taunts.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
Charlotte appeared, stunned by the scene before her–Georgia being tormented.
Her face darkened with fury as she glared at the group.
“What are you doing? Get back to work.”
The girls retreated, their confidence shattered.
Raven, still flushed with spite, stood her ground against Charlotte,
“We were just joking during our break. Why make such a fuss?”
Charlotte’s tone dropped cold as ice.
This is how you entertain yourselves? By bullying?”
One of Raven’s allies tugged at her arm, sensing Charlotte’s rising anger.
But Raven, undeterred, sneered at Georgia.
“You? Don’t compare yourself to me. You’re nothing but a dog.”
Charlotte’s slap cracked through the room.
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© Chapter 21
“Charlotte! Why?” Raven clutched her face, tears threatening to spill.
At Vetro Club, no call girl defied Charlotte.
She raised her hand again.
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Raven and the others gasped, watching in horror as Charlotte’s hand shifted–growing larger, fingers elongating, thick dark hair covering the back, nails sharpening into deadly blades.
“Next time, it won’t just be your face that hurts,” Charlotte warned, then her hand reverted to normal.
The mere threat sent Raven trembling, fearing scars that might never fade.
Charlotte was merciless. Rumors surrounded her power–none dared cross her.
Raven fled the lounge without looking back..
Charlotte moved swiftly to Georgia, helping her to her feet, her anger still burning.
She couldn’t bear to witness Georgia’s suffering.
Seeing the bruises, hearing the cruel laughter from guests, yet witnessing Georgia’s stoic silence moved Charlotte.
They shared ghosts from their past.
“Charlotte, is there work for me?” Georgia asked quietly.
Charlotte hesitated, then sighed.
“Take the day off. You’re not in any condition to work.”
“I’m fine,” Georgia insisted.
“There’s nothing for you today. You can’t work nonstop,” Charlotte pressed.
“Fine, I’ll wait here. If any guests want me, just tell me. I may not look good, but I’ll take on any job, no matter how filthy or exhausting. If others refuse, I’ll do it.”
Georgia had never thought she’d sell herself. She assumed her lack of appeal kept her safe.
“Suit yourself,” Charlotte said with a shake of her head before leaving.
Later, as Georgia stepped out of the bathroom on the third floor, someone grabbed her and pulled her into a private room:
“Mr. Wells, this is the Georgia I mentioned.”
Georgia recognized Yvette’s false charm as she introduced her to a middle–aged man lounging on the sofa.
“Georgia, come here. Mr. Wells wants to buy you a drink.”
“I’m allergic to alcohol,” Georgia replied firmly.
Yvette’s smile vanished, replaced by icy rage. “How dare you reject Mr. Wells?”
Glancing at the man beside Yvette, Georgia saw his displeasure.
Reluctantly, she said, “Mr. Wells, it’s true. I nearly died once because of alcohol. If I can’t hold my liquor, I’d only disappoint
you.”
Though the man frowned, he didn’t push her to drink.
But he wasn’t about to let her off easy.
“Then what can y
you do?” he asked.
