Page 20 of Under His Control

“I said I don’t—”

“How much?”

Penelope’s eyes sparkle with anger and she’s even more beautiful somehow. Fuck me. It’s happening again. A sudden spark of attraction for her like that moment I caught her from slipping on ice.

I was disgusted with myself then, and also when I held on to her phone for a longer look at her half-naked body. A fresh batch of self-loathing courses through me now.

I let go of her arm as if her skin turned scalding. Physical contact with her seems as unwise as sticking my hand in fire.

She crosses her arm over her stomach, her expression upset as she caresses her bruise.

“It’s down to thirty thousand,” she says in a reluctant voice.

“Down to? How much was it at the start?”

“Forty.”

“You want me to give you thirty thousand dollars. Just like that.” I scoff and shake my head. “You’re really like your mother. All you see is a living ATM when you look at me.”

She scowls. “That’s not true. Stop comparing me to my mother. I’m nothing like her. The only things we ever had in common were blood, a last name, and constant disappointment in each other.”

And trying to send me to prison.

“I wasn’t expecting the full amount either,” she continues. “Or for you to give it. I wanted a loan.”

“You’re still in the hole if you borrow from Peter to pay Paul.”

“I’m hoping Peter won’t charge me three percent interest every two weeks like Paul does.”

“How did you wind up in this mess?”

She averts her gaze, an uncomfortable look on her face.

“Before she got really sick, Mom wanted to start a nail salon. She asked me to be her business partner and said a man named Cedric Rourke would be an investor.” She shakes her head. “I learned too late he’s a loan shark she borrowed money from because banks wouldn’t lend to her. And since I co-signed the loan, I inherited the debt when she died.”

Whatever skepticism I had left that Penelope is telling the truth disappears. It’s replaced by cold anger. The beginning of the end of my previous life was the night Alyssa asked me for a loan.

She wanted to start a business selling beauty supplements. I told her no. She’d already borrowed nearly a hundred grand from me for two other failed businesses. This latest one carried too much risk to my reputation as a CEO in an adjacent industry.

Alyssa harassed me for the loan because she was sure her idea would make her millions. When I still refused to lend her money, she schemed up a sickening blackmail plan with Penelope—she lured me to have rough sex with her, begged me to choke her, then Penelope rushed into the room to “catch” me.

Give me the money or I’ll go to the police and say you raped me.

I called Alyssa’s bluff and lost.

“You helped her screw me over, then she turned around and screwed you over too.” I smile, though there’s no joy in it. “How does the medicine taste?”

“Like bitter regret.”

Again, the genuine remorse in her tone worsens my mood. She’s a liar. That’s how I want her to stay in my mind. I can’t risk trusting her because she’ll show her true treacherous colours again when I least expect it.

“After this Rourke guy came to your place, you should’ve done what your mother did and run crying to the police.”

“I did. They weren’t helpful.”

“Why not?”

“They said there’s nothing they could do because Cedric didn’t physically hurt me, I didn’t have proof he threatened me, and the loan is something I should discuss with a lawyer.”