Late Return, Gazing at Stars
Chapter 2
Olivia followed Carl into a lavish private room.
The clamor inside died the instant he appeared, everyone rising to their feet in respect. He walked in and took his seat on the central sofa, with Olivia hurrying after him.
Carl slammed a check down hard on the coffee table, his voice icy. “You love to debase yourself, don’t you? Fine. I’ll let you.”
“Get on your knees and toast every single one of my employees. One glass, and I’ll give you twenty thousand.”
“Drink until every person here is satisfied—then this money is yours.”
Olivia’s gaze swept the room. There were at least forty, maybe fifty people. And the check in front of Carl was for one million.
One million.
Enough for the heart transplant she desperately needed.
Pamela moved to pull Olivia back. “Carl, don’t do this. Making her kneel and kowtow—it’s too degrading. She still has some dignity left.”
Olivia took a step back, avoiding Pamela’s touch. “I need the money. Compared to money, what’s dignity worth?”
She strode forward, picked up a bottle, filled a glass, and without hesitation, knelt before one of the men. “To you.”
The man was taken aback, then picked up his glass and clinked it against hers.
Then came the second, the third, the fourth…
Under the assault of strong liquor, her stomach churned violently. Every forced swallow scraped like a blade against her raw throat.
But she couldn’t stop.
She needed money. A lot of it.
Gradually, some grew restless. A stream of humiliating remarks followed, accompanied by wandering hands that landed on her collarbone, her chest, even her thighs.
She didn’t resist.
Olivia could feel the heat of Carl’s glare boring into her back.
Finally, she stood before him again.
She filled her glass once more, then dropped heavily to her already swollen knees, the impact a dull thud against the hard floor.
“Mr. Carl. A toast to you.”
She tilted her head back. Just as her lips touched the rim, Carl’s hand shot out, smacking the glass from her grasp.
A loud crash.
Behind her, the coffee table was kicked over violently. Shards of glass exploded, slicing deep cuts into Olivia’s arm.
But Olivia barely felt the pain. She scrambled forward on her knees, raking frantically through the glass until her bleeding fingers found and clutched the check.
“Olivia!”
With Carl’s gritted shout, the room spun. She was dragged bodily out of the door.
In the dark, empty private room next door, Olivia was thrown roughly onto a sofa. Carl pinned her wrists, his eyes bloodshot with raw hatred.
“Olivia! Do you really have to debase yourself like this for money?!”
Olivia lowered her gaze, not daring to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to live in poverty anymore, Carl. In this world, everything is fake. Only the money in your hand is real.”
“So, even the nine years between us… that was fake too?”
Olivia felt the tears rising, but she forced them back, steadying her trembling voice. “Yes.”
“You were just a bet I placed. My luck ran out. I didn’t have the patience to wait for you to succeed.”
“Carl, asking me this… do you still have feelings for me? Honestly, if you just nod, we could keep seeing each other. Secretly.”
*Slap.*
A sharp crack echoed through the room.
Olivia’s head snapped to the side, her cheek burning.
“A woman like you… the sight of you disgusts me.”
The grip on her wrists vanished. Olivia looked up, her eyes fixed on his tall, retreating back.
Cold. And final.
Carl opened the door. Olivia’s heart suddenly hammered wildly. She opened her mouth to call him back, only to see Pamela appear in the doorway.
Slipping her arm through Carl’s, Pamela smiled with gentle triumph. “All done? We should go.”
“The private jet route is approved. I want to see the island you bought for me.”
The words died in Olivia’s throat.
The door closed, plunging the room back into silence.
Olivia clutched the check in her palm. A silent sob escaped, then another, until she could no longer hold back, collapsing into ragged, broken weeping.
The door opened once more. Hurried footsteps approached, and then Olivia was pulled into a warm embrace.
“What happened? Olivia, don’t cry…”
Carol fumbled, wiping Olivia’s tears away.
Olivia pressed the crumpled check into Carol’s hand. “I have money now, Carol. I have money.”
“I can get treatment. I can pay Nancy’s school fees…”
She cried until she was breathless, gasping between sobs. “I didn’t want this. I really didn’t want this…”
If she’d had a choice, she wouldn’t have trampled the last shred of her dignity.
But time was a luxury she didn’t have.
“It’s okay, it’s over now. With this money, you can get better. The worst is behind you, isn’t it?”
Olivia scrubbed fiercely at her tears, but the hollow, suffocating ache in her chest was killing her.
She knew her life would never truly be whole again.
But even a life riddled with holes—she would fight with everything she had to keep living.
Exhausted, Olivia dragged herself home.
A warm light spilled from their tiny rented apartment. Hearing the door, Nancy—in her favorite pink nightgown—ran out in little slippers and wrapped her arms around Olivia’s legs.
“Mommy!”
“My good girl, look what Mommy brought you!”
Olivia smiled, holding up a strawberry cake.
Nancy’s eyes lit up. She clapped her hands happily. “Strawberry cake!”
Carol watched, frowning, as Nancy skipped off to get her little apron.
“Why haven’t you told Carl he has a daughter?”
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