Fifty million dollars. That was the offer on the table tonight. Enough to change Abigail's life forever—or ruin it completely.
"You’re meeting with Mr. Rizzo tonight?" Scarlett asked, stepping into Abigail's bedroom.
"Yup. He’s got a deal to offer me." Abigail answered, brushing a curl behind her ear.
"The one worth over fifty million?" Scarlett folded her arms, already suspicious.
"Correct." Abigail turned to look at her sister, who—unlike her, had brown hair. "Just imagine what that kind of money could do for us."
Scarlett frowned. "And you really think he’s giving you that for free?"
Abigail smirked. “Come on. You know how rich he is. Fifty million to him is pocket change.”
Scarlett didn’t look convinced, her voice dropped laced with something like fear. “You know the last girl who took Rizzo’s offer disappeared, right? No calls. No body. Nothing.”
Abigail paused for a second. Then she mentioned. "In different Scarlett. I can take care of myself." She replied masking how much her sister's word meant to her.
"I made dinner."
"I'm running late, sorry I can't..."
"Ahhh, you're unbelievable, Abby." Scarlett groaned as she walked out of the bedroom.
Abigail opened the drawer where her eyes met with the gleaming crest pendant. She didn't even know why she was still keeping the necklace instead of selling it and making themselves quite comfortable because she was sure the necklace might be worth thousands or even millions of dollars.
She closed the drawer, choosing not to wear the necklace that night.
After seeing herself in the mirror, Abigail knew how much prettier she always looked in such a skimpy dress as this.
She stood up, as she slung her green mini bag over to her shoulder as she walked out of her bedroom.
"I'd be on my way, Scarlett." She called out as soon as she walked into the living room.
"Be careful! Call if anything goes wrong, babe." Scarlett shouted from the kitchen.
"Okay!" Abigail responded as she walked out of the house.
The Uber that she had asked Scarlett to order had already arrived. She walked over to the car and slid in, shutting the car door from behind, and the driver drove off.
Unlike every other night, when she went to a club to pole-dance or give lap dances to wealthy clients. This time, she was on her way to what responsible ones would call a business meeting, but she wasn't even dressed like one going to a business meeting; she still kept her stripper facade.
Mr. Rizzo, whom she had known for months, might want something else after discussing whatever with her.
The Uber driver suddenly pulled to a stop and when Abigail took her gaze away from her phone, she realized they already arrived at the hotel where she was to meet the man.