"I hear from the hotel staff that you've already slept with my wife?"
I blew out a ring of smoke and said nothing.
My silence didn't bother him. If anything, he sounded thrilled.
"Ha! They don't call you the top dog for nothing. I knew I picked the right guy! One day. One single day and you already sealed the deal!"
Every word was a needle driven straight into my chest.
"What are you waiting for? Send me the photos. Now."
I looked up instinctively and saw Cordelia watching me from the window above.
She just stood there, silent and still, as though waiting for me to hand down her sentence.
When I didn't speak, the voice on the other end of the line grew impatient.
"Kid, are you deaf? I told you to send me those photos!"
I gripped the phone. My palm was slick with sweat.
The client's patience was wearing thin, and his tone dropped to something cold and hard.
"Kid, I'd think real carefully if I were you. Your mother's surgery can't wait much longer."
My fist clenched on its own. I lifted my gaze toward the hotel.
Cordelia had opened the window. She waved at me, a small, urgent gesture, as if telling me to just hand the photos over and be done with it.
The call was still connected. The client's voice kept drilling into my skull.
One tap. That was all it would take. One tap and my mother's surgery would be paid for.
But the moment I sent those photos, I'd be destroying a woman's entire future with my own hands.
"Kid, since you won't hand them over willingly, I'll just have to come collect them myself."
The line went dead. A chill shot down my spine and I spun around.
A fleet of Rolls-Royces was tearing down the road toward the hotel. At least a dozen of them.
