Page 68 of Made to Sin

Just as I was about to walk back to my room, he spoke up. “Why didn’t you change before coming out?”

A lie formed on the tip of my tongue, but I was a bad liar, and the situation was humiliating enough. I didn’t need him to call me out for a lie on top of it.

“A few clumsy actions led my dress to fall into the bathtub, and, from running away, I don’t have much to wear— hence the need to do laundry. My housekeeper packed my bags, and she prioritized comfort, like PJs and athletic wear, over appearance.”

He didn’t say anything about the story or my pickiness to not wear what I already had. Instead, he reached into his linen pocket to grab his wallet, pulling out a solid card.

A shiny, black Amex.

At his wealth, I predicted he would have one, but I have never seen it in person.

Carelessly, he tossed the card onto the coffee table, letting it clatter on the glass before falling flat. “Go buy whatever you want.”

I nearly choked on my spit. “What?”

“I’ll let the bank know to accept everything,” he continued.

He pulled out his phone and typed something on it, most likely to alert the bank of my future spending.

“Is this what your loyalty brings?”

His gaze shimmered with a playful edge. “Maybe.”

I blinked a couple of times, stunned by his financial disregard. Jeez, did rich people throw their money around like it was nothing?

“Well, I can’t even go. I don’t have a driver.”

“I’ll send one for you, and by the end of this week, I’ll find someone more permanent.”

“You know, I didn’t tell you the story to ask for money, right? I’ll last without some fancy clothes.”

His phone dinged.

He looked down and then back up with a smirk. “Everything you swipe for today will be approved without question.”

My mouth fell open. Just like that, I had access to all the money in the world I could wish for.

When I had nothing else to say, he walked toward the door.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To make back the money you’re going to spend,” his tone was impassive, but there was a wicked connotation to it.

I already knew whatever money tactics he was using were not law-abiding, but I didn’t want to be a part of the crimes.

“Well, I don’t want you or your dirty money.”

He shrugged, slid his phone back into his pocket, and measly looked back at me. “It’s unlimited,” was his parting words as he strode straight out of the front door.

I stared at where he was standing. Then to the card. And back to the door.

Wetness touched my right foot, bringing me back to the present, as the forgotten dress created a small puddle of water.

Oh, right, laundry.

—

Two hours later, I returned to stare at the card in front of me. The only difference was that I was dressed and ready for company.

---