Alexis rubbed her numb hands together, her breath puffing into white clouds in the freezing air. She stepped closer to the edge of the curb, desperately scanning the empty street for the glowing light of a taxi.
A few cars sped past, their tires slicing through the icy slush. A spray of dirty water splashed up, soaking the hem of her trench coat. She shivered violently, her teeth chattering so hard her jaw ached.
Headlights cut through the darkness. A massive, pitch-black Maybach glided down the street. The engine was completely silent.
Instead of driving past, the luxury vehicle slowed down and stopped precisely in front of her, the sleek tires resting inches from the puddle.
The tinted rear window rolled down with a soft hum.
Alexis squinted against the glare of the streetlamp. The sharp, flawless profile of a man emerged from the shadows of the backseat.
Her frozen brain stuttered. It was him. The gigolo from the hotel.
She stared at the multi-million dollar car, then back at his face. Her mind scrambled for a logical explanation. A sugar mommy, she concluded instantly. He must have a very wealthy, very generous client who lets him drive her car. His services were... exceptional, after all.
Jarrett turned his head. His dark eyes locked onto her shivering frame, lingering on her blue-tinted lips. A cold, mocking smirk touched the corner of his mouth.
He pushed the heavy door open. He stepped out onto the street, his long legs closing the distance between them in two strides.
Before she could speak, Jarrett shrugged off his heavy, cashmere overcoat. He stepped into her personal space and draped the coat over her shoulders.
The fabric was thick and radiated his body heat. Alexis instinctively flinched, raising her hands to push it off.
Jarrett's large hands clamped down on her shoulders, his grip like iron. He held the coat in place, trapping her arms beneath it.
He leaned down, his face inches from hers. "Eight hundred dollars?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Is that what you think I'm worth?"
Alexis swallowed hard, intimidated by the sheer physical dominance he projected. "That was... that was all the cash I had on me."
Jarrett took a half-step forward, forcing her back until her spine hit the cold metal of the Maybach's door. He boxed her in with his arms.
"My rate is one million dollars," he stated, his eyes boring into hers.
Alexis gasped, her eyes widening in shock. "One million? That's extortion! You're insane!"
Jarrett didn't blink. He calmly reached into his suit pocket with one hand, pulled out his phone, and tapped the screen.
A high-quality audio recording played from the speaker.
"You're mine for the night. I bought your time. I'll pay whatever it takes, just take me upstairs." Her own drunken, slurred voice echoed in the quiet street.
Alexis's face burned. The heat rushed to her cheeks, completely overriding the winter chill. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
In the driver's seat, Bruno's shoulders shook almost imperceptibly. He bit the inside of his cheek, staring intently at the road ahead as if the fate of the world depended on it, though a faint tremor at the corner of his mouth betrayed his struggle to suppress a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
Jarrett slipped the phone back into his pocket. "You owe me a million dollars. You will sign a debt contract, and you will pay it off in installments."
Alexis clenched her jaw. She looked down the empty, freezing street. She had nowhere to go. If she stayed out here, she would freeze to death.
She looked back up at his hard, unyielding face. "Fine," she whispered, the word tasting like ash in her mouth.
Jarrett's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. He reached past her and pulled the car door open.
Alexis ducked her head and climbed into the back seat, pulling his oversized coat tight around her.
Jarrett slid in right beside her. The door shut, sealing them inside the warm, leather-scented cabin. The sudden shift in temperature made Alexis's skin tingle.
The car pulled away smoothly. Jarrett reached into the center console, poured a cup of steaming black tea from a thermos, and handed it to her. His movements were fluid, practiced.
Alexis took the cup. As he pulled his hand back, the interior lights caught the edge of his sleeve. A massive, flawless blue sapphire cufflink glinted in the light.
She stared at it. Definitely a sugar mommy, she thought, her grip tightening on the warm cup. No gigolo buys that for himself.
Jarrett leaned back against the headrest, turning his head to watch her sip the tea like a frightened animal.
"Give me your address," he said lazily. "I'll drop you off."
Alexis opened her mouth to give him Ayla's address.
Suddenly, a piercing ringtone shattered the tranquility inside the car.
Alexis dug into her purse and pulled it out. The screen flashed brightly in the dim car.
