What he Wants in Return I
LENA never liked asking for help, especially not from strangers, yet here she was, standing in the quiet luxury of a hotel lounge that looked far too expensive for someone who couldn’t even afford her last semester’s fees.
Her hands wouldn’t stay still. They clutched the strap of her cheap handbag like it was the only anchor she had left. Maybe it was. After all, everything else felt like it was slipping out of her grasp— her education, her future, even her pride.
The lounge wasn’t crowded; it wasn’t meant for crowds. It was the kind of private space reserved for people who made decisions with seven zeros behind them. There were polished marble floors, paintings with no price tags, and the soft hum of a jazz instrumental floating around like a secret only rich
