"Get away from me, you filthy gold-digger."
No one would help. No one except—
One of the older men sidled up to me, his gaze crawling over my body with undisguised hunger.
"I'll let you borrow mine," he said, licking his lips. "But you gotta let me cop a feel first."
"I've got money, sweetheart. You've got a nice figure on you." His eyes crawled over me. "How about you keep me company for a while? Play your cards right, make me happy, and maybe you won't have to pay back a single cent."
Before I could react, his hand shot out and squeezed my thigh.
The room erupted in laughter.
Humiliation and rage flooded through me. I shoved the disgusting old man away with all my strength.
He stumbled backward and crashed to the floor. His face twisted with fury. "You ungrateful little gold-digger! I give you an easy way out and you spit in my face?" He jabbed a finger at me. "Ten minutes. If you don't have the money by then, I'll strip you naked and throw you to the wolves. Let's see how long you last."
"I told you I can pay," I said through gritted teeth. "I just need to make a call. Someone will bring the money."
Daisy let out a mocking laugh. "Let her call. Who's she going to reach? Her fellow thieves?"
She turned to the crowd with a vicious smile. "Get the dog leash ready. And the rest of you—" Her gaze swept over the leering men. "—if you want a turn with her, better start lining up. She's not bad-looking, after all."
I forced down my fury and made the call. The moment I hung up, several men closed in around me, their faces twisted with predatory grins.
"Back off!"
They didn't move. If anything, they pressed closer, boxing me in.
"Lucas!" I whipped around to face him. "Tell them to back off!"
He tilted his head, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Why would I? I'm the one who told them to do it."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I stared at him, unable to process what I was hearing. He could fall out of love with me—fine. But this? This was something else entirely.
The seconds ticked by. Someone started a countdown.
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One!"
"Time's up!" The old man rubbed his hands together, grinning. "She can't pay. Strip her! Let's see what she's really got under there!"
Daisy snapped her fingers at the security guards. They seized my arms, pinning me in place. One of them reached for the hem of my dress.
Then the doors exploded inward.
A squad of black-clad figures stormed into the room, moving with military precision. At their head strode a woman whose presence commanded instant attention—Amanda Hughes, the underground queen of South City. Her face was carved from ice and murder as she crossed the room in three long strides and drove her heel into the guard holding me, sending him flying.
"You have some nerve." Her voice cut through the stunned silence like a blade. "Laying hands on my Miss."
