CHAPTER SIX

Ivy's POV

"Money first," I say, my voice steadier than I feel, standing in the dimly lit hallway of Eros & Ash. My hands tremble, but I clench them, staring at Allesio. His dark eyes narrow, lips curling into that cold smirk I remember from years ago, only now it's sharper, crueler.

"You think I'd cheat you?" His voice is low, mocking, as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. "You're Clara's daughter, alright. Always about the cash."

My stomach twists. "I don't trust you, Allesio. Transfer it. Now."He scoffs, pulling out his phone. "Fine. A billion dollars, as agreed. One night. You're not worth it, but I'll enjoy watching you squirm."

His fingers tap the screen, and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I check it-ten digits stare back, a sum I can't even process. It's real. It's enough to save Dad.

"It's done," I whisper, throat tight. "Let's get this over with."

"Eager, huh?" He steps closer, his cologne sharp, overwhelming. "Or just desperate?"

"Does it matter?" I snap, brushing past him toward the private room the receptionist pointed out.

My heels click on the polished floor, each step heavier, like I'm walking to my own execution. He follows, his presence a shadow at my back. "You're really going through with this? Thought you were better than your mother."

"Shut up," I hiss, pushing open the door. The room's dark, all velvet and low lights, a king-sized bed dominating the space.

My heart hammers so loud I'm sure he hears it."Touchy," he says, closing the door with a soft click. "Strip."I freeze, my fingers hovering over the straps of the black dress. "You don't waste time, do you?"

"Why should I?" He steps closer, voice dropping to a dangerous purr.

"You're here to sell, I'm here to buy. That's the deal."I swallow hard, my hands shaking as I slip the straps off my shoulders. The dress pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but the lacy underwear they gave me. His gaze rakes over me, cold, appraising, like I'm livestock.

"Not bad," he says, circling me. "But I expected more from Clara's spawn."

"Stop talking about her," I snap, my voice cracking. "This isn't about her.""Oh, it's all about her," he growls, grabbing my wrist, pulling me close. His breath is hot against my cheek. "You think I'd touch you if it wasn't to stick it to her?

You're just a means to an end, Ivy."I yank my wrist free, glaring. "Then do it and get it over with."His laugh is sharp, bitter. "Oh, I will. Lie down."I hesitate, my knees trembling, but I force myself onto the bed, the silk sheets cold against my skin. My heart's racing, my mind screaming at me to run, but Dad's face flashes pale, tubes everywhere. I can't lose him. I won't.

Allesio looms over me, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. "You ever done this before, Ivy? Or is this your first time playing whore?"My cheeks burn, but I hold his gaze. "Does it matter?"He pauses, shirt half-open, eyes narrowing.

"Answer me."

"No," I whisper, barely audible.

"I haven't."He freezes, just for a second, something flickering in his eyes-surprise, maybe guilt.

Then it's gone, replaced by that same hard edge.

"A virgin, huh? That's... unexpected." He leans down, his hands on either side of me, caging me in.

"Makes this even better."

"Don't," I say, voice shaking.

"Don't make this worse than it is."

"Worse?" He smirks, but there's a crack in it, a tremor.

"You chose this, Ivy. You walked through that door."

"For my dad," I spit, tears stinging my eyes. "Not for you. Never for you."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he'll back off. But then he's on me, his hands rough, pulling at the last of my clothes.

"Keep telling yourself that," he mutters, his voice low, almost angry. "Maybe it'll make you feel better."I squeeze my eyes shut, biting my lip as his hands move over me, clinical, detached.

Pain shoots through me, sharp and searing, and I gasp, my nails digging into the sheets.

"Relax," he says, his voice gruff, not quite as cold as before.

"It'll hurt less."

"Don't pretend you care," I choke out, tears slipping down my cheeks.

"Just... do it."He doesn't answer, but his movements slow, just a fraction. It's still brutal, still mechanical, but there's a hesitation, a pause that wasn't there before. I focus on Dad, on the hospital, on the beeping monitors-anything but this.

Anything but him. It's over faster than I expect, but not fast enough. He pulls away, breathing hard, and I curl into myself, my body aching, my heart heavier than I thought possible."Get up," he says, already buttoning his shirt, his voice flat. "We're done."I don't move, my limbs leaden, my mind numb. "You got what you wanted," I whisper, barely audible.

"Happy now?"He doesn't look at me, just grabs his phone from the nightstand. "You got your money. That's what you came for, right?"I force myself to sit up, wincing, pulling the sheet around me.

"You're a monster, Allesio."He pauses at the door, his back to me.

"Maybe," he says, voice quieter now, almost... regretful. "But you're not exactly a saint, either."I want to scream, to throw something, but I just sit there, tears streaming down my face as he walks out. The door clicks shut, and I'm alone, the silence louder than the pain.I drag myself off the bed, my legs shaking, and pull the dress back on. It feels dirtier now, like it's clinging to my shame. I stumble into the hallway, my vision blurring, my chest tight.

"Ivy?" Antonio's voice cuts through the haze, soft but urgent. He's there, at the end of the hall, his face pale, eyes wide with worry. "What the hell happened?"I shake my head, my voice breaking.

"Don't. Please, just... don't."He steps closer, hands reaching for me, but I flinch. "Ivy, talk to me. Did he-did he hurt you?"I laugh, a bitter, broken sound. "What do you think, Antonio? I just sold myself to your brother.

For a billion dollars. For my dad."His face crumples, anger and pity warring in his eyes. "You didn't have to do this. I would've helped you. I told you-"

"No," I cut him off, my voice sharp. "You don't get it. I couldn't take your money. Not after what my mom did to your family. To your mom.

"He grabs my shoulders, gentle but firm. "That's not your fault, Ivy. None of this is your fault."I pull away, wiping my face. "It doesn't matter. It's done. I got the money. Dad's going to live."

"At what cost?" he asks, voice low, almost pleading. "What did this cost you?"I don't answer, because I can't. The weight of it-of Allesio's hands, his words, the coldness in his eyes-is too much. I push past him, my steps unsteady, heading for the exit."Ivy, wait," he calls, following me. "Where are you going?"

"To the hospital," I say, not looking back. "Where else?"

"Let me drive you," he says, catching up. "You're not okay. You can't go alone.

"I stop, my breath hitching. "I'm fine, Antonio. I have to be."

"You're not," he says, softer now, his hand hovering near mine. "Let me help. Please."I look at him, his kind eyes, the ones that used to chase me through the Valentino gardens when we were kids. I want to say no, to push him away like I've pushed everyone else, but I'm too tired, too broken.

"Okay," I whisper, my voice barely there. "But don't ask me about it. Not now. Not ever."He nods, jaw tight, and leads me to his car. The night air hits me like a slap, cold and sharp, but I don't care. I clutch my phone, the billion-dollar transfer notification still glowing on the screen.

It's enough. It has to be.

But as Antonio drives me back to the hospital, I can't shake the feeling that I've lost something I'll never get back. And worse-Allesio's eyes, that flicker of guilt, keep haunting me, like maybe he lost something too.