C10 Didn't Director Slater Say That I Was Dirty?

"Director Slater, didn't you find me repulsive? What's the point in toying with me?" Juno cut him off, struggling to contain her rage, her voice icy. "Let's not forget, I'm the type of woman who sells herself for a bit of cash. This game isn't worth it."

Zorin's eyes narrowed, ignoring the sting of her words, and he leaned in to whisper, "Shh, pay attention."

Juno was yanked forward by Zorin, and despite the genial smile on his face, she felt a chill spread through her.

"Director Slater, I think you should take your check back. I'm not feeling well."

With his hands clasped behind him, Zorin watched her with an amused look. "Why should I take the check back? You've set your price; what's there to fear? You can't just back out of the business claiming you're unwell. What, after sleeping with me just last night, you're already eager to find someone else?"

He scrutinized Juno, who was scantily clad. Even in bed, she had been modest.

Juno wrapped her coat around her exposed body. Her tall, slender figure, her curly hair cascading over her pale shoulders, and her pretty, delicate face, now flushed from crying, made her seem no different from the youthful, innocent students he remembered.

But the more she resembled that image, the more Zorin found it both laughable and loathsome.

Women, he thought, were all the same: inherently promiscuous, yet always pretending to be chaste and reserved on the surface. It was nothing but a tease.

She was just like the woman in his memory, and the one before him now.

Zorin sneered as he gripped her wrist. "Think the money isn't enough? I'll add more!"

To her, he was just like the corrupt, decadent men outside. In truth, he was no different, except perhaps in reputation and the amount he was willing to pay.

To his surprise, Juno, shaking with anger, suddenly raised her hand and slapped Zorin across the face. "Director Slater! You're supposed to be a cultured man! I would appreciate it if you showed some respect when speaking! You're right! I may sell myself and have no right to choose my clients, but I certainly have the right to refuse them!"

The slap left a vivid red imprint on Zorin's fair and handsome cheek. He tasted the metallic sweetness in his mouth and wiped the struck side of his face.

He didn't get angry; instead, he smiled. "Refuse? Do you think you have the right to refuse? Without my word, you wouldn't even make it out of here tonight. I've grown weary of Miss Fowler's charade of purity."

No sooner had he spoken than Zorin violently tore open the overcoat she was wrapped in, abandoning all pretense of patience and gentlemanly demeanor.

"You're insane! Let go of me!" Juno exclaimed in alarm, clutching her chest.

"If you're not concerned about being overheard, feel free to scream louder," Zorin said with an icy gaze, as if piercing her heart with an invisible blade.

He despised her the most for maintaining an air of chastity despite having compromised herself, like a snow lotus blooming unblemished in the mud.

"Zorin! You maniac!"

Zorin's smile widened as his fingers lightly traced her delicate neck, giving the impression that he could snap it with minimal effort. "Yes, I am a maniac."

"Miss Fowler, perhaps you should... descend into hell with this maniac."