Chapter 2

　　I saw a strange glint flash in her eyes. Into those irises, once swirling with rage, crept the first glimmers of curiosity, of amusement. They were lovely eyes, the kind that folded into crescents when she smiled. And they were folding now, crinkling sensuously, smiling with an allure that could captivate anyone.

　　"I knew from the start you were something else, didn’t I?"

　　"I took it well. Couldn’t you give me just one chance?"

　　Hah. She shook her head, but the smile remained.

　　"Go on, then. Where were we?"

　　"I said I wanted to borrow my tuition money from you, Ma’am."

　　She gave a slight nod, a silent permission to continue.

　　"In place of interest," I said, my voice steady, "I will offer you myself."

　　She leaned in and blew gently on my searing cheek. The strong scent of her tobacco enveloped me.

　　"Your body becomes mine the moment you take my money, so that’s not a very compelling offer, is it?"

　　"I’ve heard you have a taste for women, Ma’am."

　　"A girl accepted into a prestigious university shouldn’t concern herself with such vulgar talk, should she?" she purred, a small laugh escaping her.

　　She pressed a light kiss to the burn on my cheek, then moved her lips to my ear.

　　"Tell me," she whispered, her husky voice a sticky caress against my eardrum, "exactly what kind of ‘taste’ did you hear about?"

　　"The rumor was… that you are intimate with them."

　　"So what? You want to fuck me?"

　　"If you’ll permit it, Ma’am. Yes."

　　"You want to go to university that badly?"

　　I nodded, the movement restricted by her tight grip on my hair. But I was sure she could feel the desperation radiating from me.

　　"What makes you so sure you’re my type?"

　　"Nothing. But I was sure I wouldn’t be rejected outright."

　　"Why is that?"

　　"Because I’m prettier and smarter than the women who have been in and out of your house."

　　I had to have some leverage. I was betting my entire life; I couldn’t charge in without a calculated risk. Objectively, I had a decent face and a strong, healthy body. Without my mother’s connection to Madam Big, I would have been violated or abducted by the beasts in this neighborhood long ago. That was the nature of Pagye-dong.

　　A child could be bought and sold for less than the price of a meal. Here, people were not people; they were products. I had felt the countless gazes that devoured me as I grew up. I knew my value as a commodity. And I was certain she would see it, too, even if only for a moment of curiosity.

　　"…And what if I just take my time with your body and refuse to give you the money?"

　　"There would be nothing I could do. But I believe you’ll give it to me."

　　"And why is that?"

　　"Because you’ve always had that much integrity."

　　Her grip on my hair loosened. She let go, rising from her chair to sit on the edge of the table. Her eyes, still fixed on me as I knelt on the floor, held something new: interest, intrigue, perhaps even the flicker of desire.

　　"Go make some coffee."

　　The tension in my face finally broke with a twitch. A shy, awkward smile touched my lips as I slowly rose to my feet. I had heard that line many times before. It was a signal. The women who received that order and went to her room for a "coffee errand" wouldn’t emerge until the next day, sluggish and marked with dark bruises on their necks and chests.

　　I was old enough now to understand what those marks meant.

　　"You don’t like it hot, do you?"

　　"You know me well. The temperature is important."

　　"Yes," I confirmed. "Lukewarm."

　　She liked everything lukewarm. Soup, coffee, the temperature of a room, bathwater. She enjoyed a moderate warmth that wouldn’t startle the body. I poured a little milk into the freshly brewed black coffee and stirred, gauging the heat of the cup with my hand. When it was cool enough to drink immediately, I turned back to her.

　　She was perched on the edge of the table, wearing only her button-down shirt, bare from the waist down. When she saw me looking, she spread her legs wide in a brazen invitation.

　　"Ma’am…"

　　"It’s too hot down here," she said, her voice a low purr. "You know I like it lukewarm. Come and cool me down."

　　I ran, the coffee cup still in my hand. I crossed the office in a single dash, the perfectly prepared drink splashing onto the floor. Neither of us cared. The order was just a signal. She needed me to put out the fire.

　　Of course. She couldn’t stand the heat.

　　I scrambled to her, burying my face between her open thighs. The queen was burning up, and she needed to be cooled, and my satisfaction was irrelevant. Only hers mattered. Only then could I breathe. My tuition, my future, my very life—it all depended on this.

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