"Only a twisted kind of possessiveness can make me feel loved."
"Evelyn Hartwell, just try not loving me."
————————
"Um... do you have that kind of medicine here...?" A young girl stepped into the shady little shop and asked in a stiff, awkward voice.
"Yep." The shop owner moved like he'd done this a thousand times, reached into the cabinet, and tossed over a box of emergency seventy-two-hour pills. "Fifteen bucks."
"No, not that." Her whole face turned red on the spot, like she wished the floor would just open up and swallow her.
She glanced at the line of words on the counter that she could barely understand, then spoke in a voice soft as running water, "I mean the kind... that makes you cooperate on your own no matter if the other person is a beast or something worse... that kind of medicine..."
The moment she said it, she dropped her head even lower, too embarrassed to look up.
"Hss... yeah, got it." The owner paused, weighing her words for a second, then pulled out a packet of medicine. "Mix it with water five minutes before you do it."
"Okay... how much is this...?" She looked up, and in her clear eyes there was a flicker of hope, like she'd finally seen a way out.
"Fifty dollars." The black-market owner raised five fingers and stared straight at her.
So expensive.
Evelyn Hartwell dug the scattered bills out of her pocket and counted them again and again. No matter how she counted, it still wasn't enough for fifty.
Then she turned her head and sneaked a glance at the black luxury car parked outside. Under the warm sun, its body threw off a sharp golden shine.
His men probably wouldn't lend her money, would they?
She didn't want to do this at all, but she had no choice.
If she couldn't buy this medicine and that man got upset because of it... then there was a very real chance she'd never make it back home...
The girl's lashes trembled. She clutched the money so tightly it wrinkled in her palm, like tears might fall any second.
"What, didn't bring enough money?"
Evelyn snapped back to herself and gave a small hum. Her sweet, soft voice shook with a trace of tears. "Boss, could you make it a little cheaper? This is all I have on me... or... I can come back next time and pay the rest..."
"Just what you've got in your hand will do." The owner pointed at the cash she was clutching, snatched it over, and counted it fast. Round it up, and it was basically fifty.
She looked young, and honestly, he ran a shady shop anyway. Most of what he sold was overpriced stuff that couldn't even make it into the regular market. No need to squeeze a little girl for every last cent.
The owner stuffed the money into the drawer, then looked her over with a nosy, gossip-loving grin. "You're this young, and you're buying this kind of medicine? What, no interest in your boyfriend anymore?"
"I..." Evelyn Hartwell hesitated.
Then she stopped herself. Forget it. She had already gotten out safely. That foreign man was loaded. Once she finished what she had to do, she'd take the money and go back home.
She picked up the medicine and turned to leave.
But then her eyes suddenly caught a poster on the wall. There were a few lines of traditional Chinese on it, words she could actually read. She turned back and asked, "In this shop... you can handle anything, right?"
"Of course!" The owner slapped his chest and declared it with full confidence. "My place is a globally all-powerful, completely aboveboard black shop!"
"Then..." Evelyn Hartwell paused, her voice getting smaller. "Do you do... repair surgery here?"