C16 There Was No Humiliation

"I..." Her voice faltered, an innate refusal on the tip of her tongue, but in the shadows, Hollis's lips quirked into a knowing smirk. He had declared that the indomitable Miss Jenkins would never cast aside her pride to endure such degradation.

"Is it true that if I pick up all the money off the floor within a minute, it's all mine? And you'll add a bonus of 50,000 yuan?"

The word "no" wouldn't come out. Images of the prison, of the simple girl who had been her sole ally, her dying wish for a dream, all flashed before Clarissa's eyes, and she reconsidered... Dignity? Did she even possess any left?

Now, Clarissa had nothing—no family, no relatives, no friends, no past. She was utterly alone.

What use was dignity now?

Young Master Powell chuckled, "Absolutely, my word is my bond." His eyes glinted with a trace of scorn as he gazed down at the woman sprawled on the floor.

"Fine." Her voice was a raspy, dark murmur, too harsh for anyone to care to discern the sorrow laced within. As the onlookers watched, Clarissa prostrated herself on the ground. Laughter rang out, "Young Master Powell, look, doesn't she resemble the dumb dog your family keeps?"

The young man who had tossed Clarissa the money scoffed, "Are you blind? My Roke is a male."

"Oh, oh, right!" The man snickered lewdly, "Your Roke is a male, so she must be the bitch. Hahaha!"

Jeers and mockery swelled around her. Clarissa bit her lip fiercely, scrambling for the money that had been scattered like confetti. She had to crawl and shift to gather the scattered bills.

Clarissa, ignore them, don't let them get to you!

Clarissa, this is nothing. You've endured worse in prison. Be grateful for the mercy of these young masters!

Clarissa, your life is worthless, so what value does your dignity hold?

Clarissa, remember you owe a young girl's life, a dream of Erhai!

Clarissa, you've lost everything. Now that you're alone, use all that you are to repay the innocent life lost in your defense! Fulfill that girl's dream of Erhai!

She heard the outside jeers and laughter, but she just clenched her teeth, the pain sharp but unyielding.

A few pink bills lay before her. Without a second thought, Clarissa crawled forward to retrieve them. Suddenly, Young Master Powell's boisterous laughter rang out, "Hey! Bitch, wag your tail. No wagging, no money."

Clarissa's frame shook, her grip on the money tightening as if to embed the bills into her flesh.

The taunts continued, "Shake it, shake it!"

"Come on, bitch, shake it!"

"Hey, bitch, don't you want the money?" Young Master Powell called out.

Money!... Clarissa stared at the bills in her hand, inhaled deeply, and her hips, still pressed to the ground, began to move stiffly.

The laughter grew louder, "I can't take it! My stomach hurts from laughing!"

"Huff, huff, huff—I've seen all sorts in my time, but never greed like this. It's truly eye-opening!"

"Young Master, the bitch is wagging her tail for you," Young Master Powell sneered, "Won't you reward her?"

Young Master Shen! Hollis?

In a heartbeat, Clarissa's pulse halted. Slowly, painfully, she lifted her head—and her face drained of color.

Hollis sat in the dim light, his presence exuding an air of detached nobility.

His gaze landed on Clarissa, and with a cool detachment, he uttered, "You're truly despicable."

Clarissa's jaw clenched, her breathing erratic. If not for the heavy clown makeup, her complexion would have been ashen as a corpse's.

Thankfully, the ridiculous makeup concealed her disgrace.

After a moment...

Under Hollis's scrutiny, Clarissa forced a radiant smile, "Thank you, Mr. Morgan, for your generosity." No one could see the immense effort it took to push those words through her clenched teeth.

He had scorned her as cheap, and she thanked him for his favor... Was this the same proud, unyielding rose once revered throughout Valecross?

Clarissa inhaled deeply, then turned to Young Master Powell. "Young Master, I've collected all the money from the floor. Will you honor your word?" Young Master Powell gestured grandly. As Clarissa attempted to rise, he casually impeded her, "No rush to get up," he said.

He sauntered over to the crystal table, lifting a glass of wine.

"Before you take the money, allow me the pleasure of offering you a drink."

A glass of whiskey was extended toward Clarissa, who remained on all fours, still grounded.

"I don't..."

Clarissa began to decline when a deep voice slowly interrupted, "Fine wine should be paired with a beautiful woman. It would be a waste for her to drink it."

It was Hollis.

Clarissa cast her eyes down, veiling the bitterness within.

Hollis, what will it take to satisfy your desire to humiliate me?

"Are you implying she isn't a beauty, Young Master Morgan?" Young Master Powell questioned skeptically. "I refuse to believe that the Night Emperor harbors any unsightly people."

He scrutinized Clarissa's face, but to no avail; the heavy clown makeup obscured her true features.

"You doubt it?" Hollis's lips faintly curled, his gaze casually drifting over Clarissa's face. "Go wash it off." His tone was dismissive, tinged with an air of indifference.

Clarissa was about to rise...

"Crawl there," Young Master Powell interjected.

Her complexion blanched once more. Clarissa's hands, pressed against the floor, dug into the ground... Hold on, Clarissa! What is this, really? After enduring three years behind bars, this is nothing!

She complied, crawling to the adjoining washroom. Lacking proper makeup removal tools, she resorted to using hand soap to scrub away the clown makeup. Naturally, it wasn't as effective as makeup remover oil, but... it sufficed to reveal her gaunt, unremarkable face.

Reaching the washroom door, she pulled it open...

"I've grown accustomed to watching you crawl; I find your walking posture intolerable," Young Master Powell said with a smirk, eyeing the woman at the doorway. "What should we do about that?"

Without a word, Clarissa crouched down and resumed her crawl, her limbs weak. She had already spent a considerable time moving this way, and now her face was drained of color from the agony.

The pain was excruciating, yet she bore it with stubborn silence... She claimed she needed no dignity, that she had none to begin with, that she cared nothing for it. But deep down, she'd rather endure a pain no man could stand, preferring to suffer in silence than to utter a single complaint.