Addicted To His Fake Sugar Baby

ve

n who accepted excuses. He wanted evidence. Text messa

They landed on her desk. A bottle of DayQuil, still sealed in its plastic and c

was desperate, but

o channel the weakness she felt in her bones. She let the fever do the work. She star

, and I feel so weak..." she rasped into

tried again. And again. On the fourteenth take, she didn't act. She just let the exhaustion and th

w for th

ght hand and gripped the cap. Instead of using her palm to apply pressure, she pinched the cap b

he plastic until the skin was an angry red. It was a visible testament to her s

carefully. The background was just a blur of white

oice memo and the

my medicine bottle... Did I make you angry by cancelling our date? I'm so

bed and slid down to the floor, her back against the frame. She pressed her injur

passed. T

a text message noti

er laptop. The email was from a generic b

blur. $150,000. A transfer of one hundred and fifty th

uzzed. A te

ider this a down payment on your recovery. Don't refuse it. And I'

e accepted the money, her part in the deception would be confirmed. If she let the driv

man in New York. She logged into the linked bank account on her laptop

phone. She couldn't let his drive

me, but I don't need a doctor or your driver! I can

moral objection. It was

now. Just let me rest. If you send anyone,

app. She ordered a bottle of NyQuil and a pack of Gatorade for delivery to her building. She

. She could feel him thinking, analyzing, c

the scree

. We'll ta

, her body going limp. The cold sweat on her back s

he couldn't touch without revealing herself. The account itself, drained by her ex, was still functiona

no money, no connections, and a million-dollar debt to a ruthless man.