"Pearl Sanchez is spoiled. Arrogant. Insufferable. Kathy accidentally damaged one painting, and Pearl made her grovel as a maid for three days."
"Someone that entitled needed to be taught a lesson. And look—three years of punishment, and it worked, didn't it?"
His voice dripped with pride. Satisfaction.
As if his little experiment had reformed me. Made me a better person.
Bertram sighed and swallowed whatever he'd been about to say.
There were things he hadn't told Austin.
That day, I had knelt.
I had unbuttoned my own blouse.
"Just five hundred dollars. Please. I'm begging you."
"Austin is sick in prison. He needs medical care. I'm five hundred short."
They had exchanged glances—then burst out laughing.
"Is this really the Pearl Sanchez we used to know?"
"You were so proud back then. Wouldn't wear shoes that cost less than a thousand. Now you're selling yourself for five hundred?"
I could only kneel there and take it. My face betrayed nothing.
What expression was I supposed to wear?
Every shred of pride, every ounce of dignity—ground into dust by reality.
"If you're willing to pay more..."
My voice broke.
"I'll pose however you want."
Their laughter only grew louder.
Finally, the man who had remained silent spoke. He sat sprawled on the sofa, exhaling a lazy plume of cigarette smoke.
"Leave."
"Even if you knelt here and kowtowed a hundred times, we wouldn't help you."
Because Austin had given them their orders long before.
Punishment was punishment.
For three full years, they were forbidden to show me an ounce of mercy or offer me the slightest convenience.
Only then could they properly avenge his precious secretary, Kathy Barnes.
So how did I scrape together that five hundred dollars?
I walked into a hospital and sold my blood.
Later, I took that money to the prison, only to be told Austin had already been released on medical parole.
The cash changed hands until it finally reached one of Austin's friends.
I was so desperate I nearly dropped to my knees.
"Please—please make sure this money gets to Austin. He can't get into any more trouble."
But at that very moment, Austin was with his little secretary at Disneyland, posing for photos like they didn't have a care in the world.
He tossed that five hundred dollars at a staff member like it was a crumpled receipt.
"Dirty money from god knows where. Disgusting."
Just like my heart—trampled without a second thought.