Were their hands made of gold? This place was as shady as it got!
When I brought up James, one of the girls sneered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"You can’t even save yourself and you’re worried about someone else?"
"You came in here, ordered six girls like you were some filthy-rich heir and now you’re whining about three million? Stingy much!"
Her words hit like a slap, but before I could respond, she added with a wicked grin, "If you don’t cough up the cash, we’ll send you straight to Mentor Wilson. He’ll make sure you ‘work’ off the three million."
Panic surged through me and I blurted out, "I’m not going anywhere! Don’t you realize this is illegal? Kidnapping and extortion, this is a crime! Let me go right now!"
"What, you think freeloaders like you have the moral high ground? Pathetic. Fine, if you’re too scared for Mentor Wilson, then pay up! Or I’ll just handle you myself!"
Without warning, she grabbed a beer bottle and brought it down on the back of my head.
Pain exploded as the glass shattered and warm blood began to drip down my forehead, staining my vision with red.