Confessions of an Escort:The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy - Chapter 17: Chapter 17

You are reading Confessions of an Escort:The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy, Chapter 17: Chapter 17. Read more chapters of Confessions of an Escort:The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy.

The kitchen doors swung open as two men carried out a basin teeming with squirming eels, each one slimy and about the length of a hand. Their slick, mucus-coated bodies glistened under the light, making my stomach turn.
"No drawing lots this time," Alexander Valdemar announced, tossing a bulging bag onto the table. The weight of it landed with a heavy thud. "Fifty grand inside. Winner takes all."
A woman at the table smirked, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "How do we play?"
Alexander didn't answer. Instead, he ripped open a condom, scooped up a handful of mucus from the basin, and stuffed four eels inside.
"Backdoor insertion," he said flatly. "Last one standing wins. This game is called the Eel Challenge."
The woman's smirk faltered. She swallowed hard, her eyes darting between the grotesque condom and the money. Then, with a sharp inhale, she raised her hand. "Me! I'll do it!"
Others quickly followed, hands shooting up around the room.
My gaze locked onto the cash. Fifty grand. That was enough—enough for the down payment, enough to finally stop dreaming and start living. My throat tightened.
Before I could second-guess myself, my trembling hand went up. "I... I want in."
Alexander didn't even look at me as he tossed a writhing condom my way.
Two men wheeled out a box—earplugs, noise-canceling headphones, a blindfold, and ropes.
They bound us, suspending us midair. The earplugs and headphones muffled everything into silence. The blindfold plunged me into darkness.
Then came the eels.
Their squirming sent jagged, twisting pain through me, like my insides were being shredded. I gritted my teeth, biting back screams.
This was my choice.
I wanted that money. I wanted that house.
A sunlit balcony overflowing with flowers. A fluffy white Samoyed sprawled in the warmth, a sleek Norwegian Forest Cat curled beside it. Me, stretched out on a chaise, one hand scratching the dog's chin, the other cradling a steaming cup of tea as I watched the new park being built in the distance...
A dream I'd clung to for years—now just within reach.
If I could just hold on a little longer.
"Jessica, you have to endure this. You have to!"
The pain was worse without sight or sound, magnified by the void. Time stretched into an endless, agonizing blur.
When they finally lowered me, Alexander yanked off my blindfold and earplugs. He slapped my cheek lightly, studying my sweat-streaked face.
"Hey, bitch. You're not dying on me, are you?"
The other women had been cut down long before me.
My legs buckled. I hit the floor hard, crawling toward the money on pure instinct. Clutching the bag to my chest, I grinned, ignoring the mess of filth and dead eels behind me.
Alexander stared down at me, his lip curling in disgust.
"Disgusting."
The word dripped with contempt.
Disgusting?
I thought of Ethan Roscente. Did he feel disgusted when he was under that sagging old woman?
Did Sophia Evans feel disgusted when she moaned for clients?
Did Vincent Roland feel disgusted when he groveled at Alexander's feet for a deal?
Maybe.
Or maybe not.

End of Confessions of an Escort:The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy Chapter 17. Continue reading Chapter 18 or return to Confessions of an Escort:The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy book page.