Ophelia barely remembered the taxi ride home.
The city lights smeared across the rain-streaked window like accusations.
Her body still hummed with unfulfilled tension while her jaw was sore from being stretched around Tristan’s cock, her wrists tender from the handcuffs, and a deep, throbbing ache between her thighs that he had deliberately left unsatisfied.
Every shift in her seat reminded her of her nakedness earlier, of kneeling before him like a discarded toy.
The humiliation sat heavily in her stomach, a cold knot that refused to loosen.
She paid the driver with shaking fingers and stumbled into her apartment.
The moment the door closed, she leaned against it, sliding down until she sat on the cold floor.
Tears came then hot, angry, and exhausted.
She still can’t get over the fact that she had signed her body away to a man who barely spoke, who had watched her beg and cry earlier that night with the same cold detachment.
Her phone rang, jolting her.
It was Marcus Vale again.
“Miss Cater,” he called out voice strained with cautious hope.
“Your father is out on emergency bail. The new charges were dropped, and the judge cited ‘insufficient evidence’ after certain documents mysteriously surfaced. But… It’s not over. The original charges are still active. Regulators have sealed the company’s main offices.”
“So where is my father now?” She was not ready for much explanation from Marcus.
“Due to his health… he has been rushed to the City hospital…” he let out, and she nodded.
Ophelia closed her eyes, relief crashing into fresh anxiety.
“I am coming now.”
Finally, she got to the hospital and found herself being taken to the VIP section.
It was the best for now so angry mobs wouldn’t be aware and marched toward the hospital.
There her father sat on the edge of a hospital bed, wearing borrowed clothes that hung loosely on his frame.
His face bore new lines of exhaustion, and his eyes carried the haunted look of a man who had stared down years behind bars.
When he saw her, he stood and pulled her into his arms.
Ophelia buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the faint antiseptic smell that always reminded her of their shared lab days.
“You did it,” he whispered, voice thick.
“I don’t know how, but you got me out. The lawyers said it was almost impossible this fast.”
Ophelia held him tighter, her heart twisting with guilt.
“I called in every favor I could. Some… powerful people in the medical regulatory circles owed me.” The lie burned her throat.
She couldn’t tell him she had knelt naked and pleasured Tristan, the same man connected to the circle that had abandoned them just to make this happen.
Vicent pulled back, searching her face.
“Ophelia, look at me. Whatever strings you pulled… tell me it wasn’t dangerous.”
“I didn’t,” she cut in quickly, forcing a weak smile even as her cheeks heated with shame.
“Just old academic contacts. Please, Dad. You are free for now. That’s what matters…. All we need to do now is clear your name as fast as possible.”
But it wasn’t full freedom.
As they spoke, Marcus updated them that Cater Pharmaceuticals’ headquarters remained locked down, key research files seized, and several board members under investigation.
The stock had crashed further.
Public opinion painted her father as a villain who had knowingly sold harmful drugs.
Some charges had been reduced thanks to “new evidence,” but the case was far from closed.
Ophelia’s hands trembled as she helped her father gather his few belongings.
The weight of what she had done pressed on her chest until she could hardly breathe.
She had saved him from immediate prison, but at the cost of becoming a secret mistress to a man who could destroy them both if she stepped out of line.
“You should go home and rest my dear, I will be fine here.”
“But dad..”
“You can’t leave your job because of me, this is my fight… You have helped me enough by not making me live in jail for long… so..”
Even though Ophelia wasn’t ready to leave, it was best for her to, so she embraced her father once more before leaving.
Back in her apartment past midnight, Ophelia stood under the scalding shower, scrubbing her skin.
The hot water stung the faint marks on her wrists.
Between her legs, the lingering arousal mixed with frustration made her want to scream.
Tristan had left her on the edge deliberately as a reminder of control.
She hated how her body still responded to the memory of his hand in her hair, his quiet commands, the way he had looked at her like property.
She stepped out, wrapped in a silk robe, and collapsed onto her couch.
Then her phone lit up with a message from an unknown number.
Tristan: Tomorrow night be in the penthouse at 9 PM.
A black dress will be delivered to you.
Wear nothing underneath.
Another message followed and it was the full contract attachment.
Ophelia opened it with dread and read every clause slowly and she couldn’t help but grit her teeth in regret.
She dropped the phone, nausea rising.
This was her life now.
Not a one-time deal but an ongoing arrangement with a man who owned half the city’s medical infrastructure through EliteMedical Empire.
No wonder he could make charges vanish so cleanly.
He hadn’t magically cleared everything, he had applied just enough pressure to secure bail and drop the newest charges while leaving the core case damaged but manageable.
She was still on her phone when a news alert pinged.
Nicholas Draven and Liora Steve Spotted at Exclusive Celebration Dinner – “New Beginnings” After Distancing from Pharmaceutical Scandal.
The photo showed them smiling, arms wrapped around each other.
Ophelia stared at it until her vision blurred.
While she had been on her knees with Tristan’s cock in her mouth, they had been toasting their future.
A sudden, sharp pain exploded along her nerves, her disorder flaring violently from the stress.
She cried out, curling into a ball on the couch as white-hot pain scorched down her spine and into her limbs.
Her vision swam.
For several agonizing minutes, she could only breathe through it, tears streaming down her face.
When it finally subsided into a dull, pulsing ache, she lay there exhausted.
Her phone buzzed again.
Tristan: You need to be off your phone and rest.
You will need your strength.
Read every clause.
Understand what you are now.
Ophelia whispered into the empty, dark apartment, voice hoarse and broken, “I saved you, Dad… but what have I become?”