Chapter 94
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Georgia’s shoulders quivered as if caught in an invisible storm, her fists curling so tightly her nails bit into her palms. Hugo’s sudden appearance had ripped into her with a violence she hadn’t been prepared for, leaving her raw and exposed in ways words couldn’t express. She fought down the rising scream clawing at her throat, forcing herself to breathe through clenched teeth.
Fury burned through her chest like poison. Hugo’s words had sliced through the thin membrane holding her together, laying bare every festering wound she had buried. What did Hugo know of the world she lived in? He was the privileged son of the Silver Stream Pack’s Alpha, shielded all his life by money, power, and the unwavering loyalty of pack guards who bowed their heads at his passing.
What did he know about starving alone in the dark?
When she’d been released from werewolf prison, Georgia had walked out with nothing but a handful of crumpled bills- barely enough to buy a stale pastry and a cheap cup of coffee. Her freedom had tasted like ash on her tongue because there had been nowhere for her to go, no arms open to welcome her back.
No packs in Gabbs would take in a rogue who carried the stain of imprisonment across her skin. Not a single one. And Georgia–she wasn’t even a true rogue. She had no wolf to protect her, no primal strength to keep her alive in the feral shadows of Silent Forest. If she tried to survive there, she wouldn’t last a single day. The beasts would tear her apart before the moon reached its peak.
Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, her fingers numb against the cold glass. She stared at the screen through a sheen of unshed tears, forcing herself to sniff back the rising sob. Slowly, painfully, she raised her head, swallowed the scream lodged in her chest, turned, and walked toward the elevator with heavy, determined steps.
She refused to give in. Even with only forty minutes left before her world collapsed around her, she would fight until her body had nothing left to give. She would bleed for every second
Georgia limped into the elevator, each step sending pain vibrating up her leg like shards of glass digging into bone. But there were more important things than pain. There were always more important things. People like her–people living in dark holes with no way out–didn’t have the right to feel sorry for themselves. They simply survived. That was all.
Hugo’s words dug into her like poisoned claws. As if she hadn’t been torn apart enough.
The moment the elevator doors slid shut, she lifted her gaze to the mirrored wall and forced herself to smile. It was a broken, crooked smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. She whispered softly, almost lovingly to her reflection, “One hundred thousand dollars to go, Georgia.”
Her voice sounded so small in the empty elevator that she almost didn’t recognise it.
Meanwhile, in the lounge of Vetro Club’s Public Relations Department, the other call girls lounged across velvet sofas, their conversation a flurry of giggles and cruel whispers.
“Did you hear? I saw Georgia going around today begging people for work,” one woman drawled as she adjusted her lipstick in a compact mirror.
“She’s so desperate for money it’s pathetic,” another sneered. “But honestly, a woman like her shouldn’t even be allowed in Public Relations. She drags down the entire department. I don’t know why the general manager let her stay.”
“Hasn’t she gone a whole month without getting work?” a third woman chimed in, twirling her hair idly. “She must be losing her mind. She’s been asking every single person in PR today.”
“Ugh, enough about her,” one said with a roll of her eyes. “What a mood killer. Anyway, Mr. Merrick and his friends are here today. Let’s go entertain them.”
They painted fresh smiles onto their faces, slipped their heels back on, and strutted out of the lounge toward the sixth floor, perfume trailing behind them like poison flowers.
Georgia’s chest ached with exhaustion. She had asked everyone–every single person around her–for help. Each rejection dug another grave inside her chest, until her body felt heavy with silent screams. She returned to the lounge, her steps leaden with defeat, her vision swimming.
< Chapter 94
She raised her eyes to the clock mounted above the door. Time was running out, slipping through her fingers like sand she could never clutch tight enough.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Charlotte.
Preston will arrive at Vetro Club in twenty minutes.
Despair clawed at her throat, filling her lungs with ice. Preston was a man who kept his word, no matter how brutal or final that word might be. She knew he would arrive exactly as promised. She knew her time was up.
The door to the lounge swung open with sudden force, slamming against the wall. Georgia startled, her heart leaping in her chest. Charlotte stood in the doorway, her eyes cold but burning with hidden urgency
“Georgia, come with me.”
“Charlotte?” Georgia’s voice came out as a trembling whisper. All colour drained from her face as fear rushed into her chest. “Is he here already?”
She looked so small and helpless that Charlotte felt a sharp pain twist through her heart. She struggled to keep her expression hard, to bury the guilt suffocating her lungs.
Charlotte took a deep breath and said coldly, “Mr. Hill hasn’t arrived yet. Come with me.”
“Charlotte…?” Georgia’s voice was hoarse with confusion.
Charlotte frowned impatiently. “Why are you just standing there? I’ll take you to see some guests I know.”
Georgia pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling under her weight. “Charlotte, I’m coming.”
Charlotte didn’t reply. She turned and led Georgia upstairs in silence. The sixth floor was bathed in warm golden light, the thick carpet soft under Georgia’s shoes as she followed numbly.
“The sixth floor?” Georgia murmured, a flicker of dread passing across her face.
Charlotte stopped in front of a polished door. Her shoulders drooped as if the weight of what she was about to do finally broke her spine. “Only guests on the sixth floor can offer you a hundred thousand dollars.”
She turned to Georgia, her eyes dull with regret. “This is all I can do to help you. I wasn’t supposed to bring you here. There are things I can’t say out loud… but you should know I care about you. I just want to live my life peacefully too.”
Georgia lowered her gaze. She understood. She knew how hard Charlotte must have struggled before bringing her here. “Charlotte… I know. Thank you. I’m grateful. Truly.”
Charlotte nodded once, sharply, then raised her hand to knock. “This is allt can do. Good luck.”
But before her knuckles could touch the door, Georgia’s cold fingers shot out and grabbed her wrist. “Charlotte… do you know who the guest is in this room? What’s his name?”
Charlotte hesitated, then whispered, “It’s Mr. Merrick. Wait–Georgia, where are you going?!”
Georgia’s face turned as pale as the dead. Without answering, she spun on her heel to flee, but Charlotte grabbed her arm desperately. “Where are you going?”
Before Georgia could wrench herself free, the door swung open with a flourish. The man inside was in such high spirits that he answered the knock himself.
“Charlotte, you took your sweet time,” Weston said with an easy smirk, his eyes gleaming with indulgent malice. His gaze drifted to Georgia. He didn’t remember her face, but recognition flickered in his eyes when he saw her clothes. His grin widened mockingly. “Isn’t this Mr. Cooper’s new toy I saw in the elevator earlier?”
He stepped forward and hooked his finger under Georgia’s chin, forcing her head up to meet his gaze. The lights gleamed off his gold rings as they dug into her jaw.
Georgia hung her head stubbornly, refusing to look at him, her body trembling with cold revulsion.
“Hey, look at her. She’s shy,” Weston chuckled, his voice low and cruel. “Guess what, sweetheart? I need to see that face today”
< Chapter 94
© Get 5)
Charlotte tried to reassure her, her voice shaking. “Don’t be scared, Georgia. Mr. Merrick’s just teasing you. He’s very kind.”
Weston paused, studying Georgia more intently, suspicion glinting in his eyes. “What did you say her name was?”
Panic shot through Georgia’s veins like ice. She jerked her chin away and shouted, her voice shaking with terror, don’t tell him!”
“Charlotte,
Weston’s eyes narrowed into dark slits. Charlotte’s heart hammered as she sensed danger thickening around them like smoke.
“Georgia?” Weston whispered, tasting her name like poison on his tongue. His smile vanished, replaced by a cruel hunger. He dropped his hand from her chin, but before she could exhale in relief, his fist tangled viciously in her hair and yanked her head back so hard her scalp burned with pain.
Charlotte screamed, “Mr. Merrick, what are you doing?!”
Georgia’s vision blurred as tears spilled down her cheeks. She blinked up into Weston’s eyes and saw only bloodlust and glee. His lips curled as he licked them slowly, his gaze devouring her with triumphant cruelty.
“It really is you, Georgia,” he breathed. “I never thought you’d become such an ugly, pathetic mess. But no matter what you look like now, I’d recognise you anywhere.”
A deep, bone–chilling terror spread through Georgia’s chest as her knees buckled beneath her. Her face turned as pale as a corpse drained of blood.
< Wolfless, Unbroken
