The Price of Greed

Barely surviving on the cheapest instant noodles and with only a pathetic two hundred dollars left to her name, Cleo sat alone in a quiet K City coffeehouse. Her empty stomach rumbled a hollow protest in the quiet space as she kept her eyes glued to the entrance, waiting.

When Corbin finally walked through the glass doors, fresh from his mysterious trip, Cleo’s jaw dropped. She almost did not recognize the man she had dated for seven years. Gone was the financially struggling, sickly boyfriend who could not afford a single decent meal. In his place stood an arrogant stranger blatantly flaunting a tailored Armani suit. He wore limited-edition Air Jordans on his feet, gripped the newest model iPhone in his hand, and casually twirled the heavy keys to a luxury Audi around his fingers.

The sickening, undeniable truth crashed over her. Vaughn’s three-million-dollar check had been real all along. Corbin and his mother had maliciously deceived her, stealing the massive sum of money she had sold her body for while letting her starve.

Corbin marched over to her booth and slammed his hands on the table. His face twisted in annoyance as he glared down at her. "Why haven't you been answering any of my calls since the hotel incident?"

Cleo propped her chin on her hand to steady her trembling rage. She offered him a deeply cynical, ice-cold smile. "When exactly are you going to return the massive sum of money you owe me? I cannot believe I was stupid enough to trust your disgusting lie that the check was fake."

Seeing that the jig was up, Corbin instantly dropped his fragile facade of innocence. He sneered viciously. Pulling out his expensive new phone, he aggressively swiped to a hidden album and shoved the bright screen directly into her face.

Compromising photos of her working the floor at the Oblivion nightclub glared back at her. Sloane had clearly provided them to ruin her.

"It is appropriate for me to keep all three million dollars to make up for the severe emotional damage you have caused me. You cheated on me to acquire this money in the first place." Corbin tucked the phone away with a smug, self-satisfied grin.

"Have you no shame, Corbin? We have been together through thick and thin for over seven years. I sacrificed my virginity to save your pathetic life, and you treat me like garbage?" Cleo asked through tightly gritted teeth. Her voice trembled with rage. Her eyes blazed with such intense hatred she wished she could burn him to ash right there in the cafe.

Corbin let out a heavy, dramatic sigh and leaned back in his chair, feigning innocence. "It isn't like I am officially breaking up with you. I can pretend your cheating never happened, though I do not think I will ever marry you now."

The cruel, calculated words felt like a physical plunge into a dark abyss. They had happily sent out their physical wedding invitations just two months ago. Now, he was discarding her like a used tissue while hoarding her blood money.

Drained of tears and unable to shed a single one for this monster, Cleo acted on pure, cold impulse. She grabbed her ceramic mug and splashed the scalding dregs of her dark coffee directly across the crisp lapel of his expensive Armani suit.

"Pay me back, or I will sue you." Cleo glared at his shocked face, issuing a fierce, unyielding threat.

Instead of panicking, Corbin calmly pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket. He slowly dabbed at the dark stain on his chest. Looking at her with supreme, untouchable arrogance, he openly mocked her legal threat. "And what exactly do you plan to tell the judge? That your dirty, whoring money has been seized by your boyfriend? Do you have a single shred of physical evidence to definitively prove that the massive check was ever given to you?"

The insult twisted like a jagged knife deep in her gut. He was right. She had absolutely no physical proof. The check had been handed over, and Corbin had pocketed it without a single paper trail tracing back to her name.

The only person on the entire earth who possessed the power to verify that the check was meant for her was the very man who wrote it. Vaughn Lockwood.

Yet, just thinking about facing the terrifying, manipulative Vaughn again sent shivers cascading down her spine. A crushing realization set in. Great, she must now seek out the devil she had just slapped. Could her life possibly get any worse?