My Scars Are Seeds of Glory

The private room fell silent for a moment, then erupted into laughter and whistles.

"After Michele went under, I heard she hooked up with some rich nobody. Well, at least she's got something to offer."

"Why don't you stick with me from now on, sweetheart? I can offer you what Michele failed to give you five years ago."

"Nice body. Shame it's been used. I'll give you five thousand dollars a week. Does that sound good?"

Laughter filled the room as their hostile gazes roamed over me. I couldn't tell who reached for me first, but soon more hands were groping at my legs.

"Don't touch me!" I cried, trying to pull away. The tear in my abdomen burned through me, making it impossible to get away from their hands.

A flash of derision crossed Michele's eyes. "Alma, what are you playing at? Are you dodging this slowly just to play hard to get?"

At his words, the hands groping me came to a halt.

He shot me a piercing look. "Are you really trying to make some quick money? Out of respect for what we had, I'll let you," he said, unconsciously tracing the skin beneath his tattoo.

He patted a bald, overweight man on the shoulder. "Antonio, you helped me when I was at my lowest. Today, I'll give you a gift."

With that, he tossed a stack of bills at my feet. The edges scraped across my skin, leaving faint cuts.

"If you keep Mr. Esposito satisfied tonight, Alma, all of this belongs to you," he said with a sneer.

Laughter and cheers filled the room as everyone applauded Michele for being generous enough to introduce his ex to Antonio.

I knew Antonio Esposito. He was an infamous sadist and always came up with fresh ways to torture his victims.

I looked straight at Michele. "If I take care of him, does that mean I don't owe you the 50 thousand dollars?"

His eyes flared with anger for a moment before he hissed, "You don't."

I forced a smile and stepped forward, looping my arms around Antonio's neck.

He eagerly grabbed my waist, reeking of alcohol. The stench made me gag, but I forced a smile through it.

"Mr. Esposito," I said sweetly. "Shall we move somewhere a little more private?"

"Of course, sweetheart! Call me Daddy, and I'll take care of you," he slurred, lifting me up and striding toward the door.

"Enough!" A crash sounded as Michele smashed a wine glass.

He stormed forward, yanking me out of Antonio's grasp.

"Alma, for money, you'd put up with this filth?" he roared, staring at me with bloodshot eyes.

I nodded. "Yes. For money, I can do anything."

Michele slammed me onto the couch with pure rage. "Fine! Then serve me, and I'll pay you!"

He grabbed me and kissed me savagely. I bit his tongue and forced him back. "Pay first, Michele. I don't come cheap. 500 thousand dollars for the night."

He froze. Finally, he believed I was a woman who would sell herself for money.

He flung me to the floor, growling, "Get out! You disgust me!"

Pain lanced through my abdomen as my wound tore open again.

I couldn't lift myself. The carpet was soaked in my blood. From my pocket, a donation receipt from five years ago slipped out, landing at Michele's feet.