My Price Was Too High

Brittany was on speakerphone with some trust fund kid, giggling like it was her job.

She glanced out the window and sighed.

Ugh, Asher's waiting downstairs again. So pathetic. Anya, do me a favor? Go tell him I'm sick and send him home.

I looked down at Asher. The whole campus thought he was just a broke transfer student.

Only I knew he wasn't.

Last month, I'd picked up a cleaning shift at the city's most exclusive members' club.

I saw him walk out of a private suite, surrounded by men in suits that cost more than my tuition. Even the club owner was bowing his head, all respect.

I grabbed an umbrella and pulled on a thin white tee before heading down.

The rain soaked through the fabric, clinging to every curve.

I walked up to Asher and held the umbrella over him.

"Brittany asked me to tell you to go home."

His eyes lingered on the outline of my chest. His Adam's apple bobbed once.

"Who are you?"

"Anya. Her roommate."

That night, Brittany was at a hotel with her rich boy.

And I led Asher back to my apartment.

I stirred, my body a dull ache.

Asher stood with his back to me, pulling on his worn jeans.

"Awake?"

He turned. His gaze caught on my bare collarbone, and a slow, knowing smirk touched his lips. "Last night, it was good."

My cheeks burned. I dropped my gaze.

Asher walked to the bed and pulled a jeweled bracelet from his pocket. "Didn't have cash on me. Take this instead."

"Just a family trinket. Not worth much. Consider it a...souvenir."

I'd seen one like it before-on the wrist of that club owner.

That night, drunk, he'd slammed it on the table and boasted it was worth a luxury apartment on its own.

Playing the pauper? Did he think I was stupid?

I pushed the bracelet back. "No, I can't take it."

I looked up, letting my eyes glisten. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

Asher's eyebrow lifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "I told you, it's nothing. Keep it. A trinket for a trinket."

"It's a family heirloom,"I said softly. "Even a fake one must mean something to you."

I grabbed his hand and pressed the jewel bracelet back into his palm.

Asher stared into my eyes for a long moment before letting out a soft chuckle and putting the bracelet away.

"Alright, Anya, right? I'll remember that."

Back in the dorm, Brittany was sitting in front of the mirror applying lipstick, a brand-new Chanel bag beside her.

"Well, well, look who decided to show up?" She shot me a sidelong glance in the mirror.

I just went about putting my things away, ignoring her.

Seeing that I didn't bite, Brittany crossed her arms, scrutinizing me.

"Anya, I told you to get rid of Asher. Where exactly did you get rid of him?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked up at her.

"Aren't you with Brody? Why do you still care about Asher?"

Brittany's face instantly flushed, and she sneered.

"Just a warning, I don't want that pauper anymore, but isn't it a bit gross to pick up my leftovers?"

I lowered my eyes, saying nothing else. Arguing with an idiot was a waste of breath.

That afternoon, I got a text from Asher.

"Dinner tonight."

In the evening, I deliberately changed into a dress and waited for him by the campus gate.

Asher arrived precisely on time, his usual cool, detached self.

I walked behind him, silently wondering what his intentions were tonight.

He suddenly stopped. "Anya, last night..."

His words were cut off.

"Well, well, isn't that Asher?"

I turned around to see Brittany, arm-in-arm with a smarmy, rich playboy, looking at us with a smirk.

"What? Got dumped by me, and you're already looking for your next conquest?"

Brittany's gaze swept over both of us, full of contempt.

"Asher, a penniless guy like you, dating? Seriously? What can you even buy her?"

Asher's expression darkened.

I stepped forward, blocking him. "Who I have dinner with is none of your business, is it?"

Brittany's rich boyfriend, Brody, eyed me with interest.

"Is this your friend? She's quite innocent-looking. Why don't you join us for dinner tonight?"

Brittany's face instantly changed.

She quickly tugged at Brody. "Honey, aren't we supposed to see a movie? Don't waste your time with these people."

With that, she glared at me, dragging the man away in a hurry.

Asher looked at me. "You're quite protective."

I lowered my head, exposing a pale neck. "I just thought she was going too far."

He suddenly chuckled, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. "Come on, let's go eat."

To reel in the big fish, a little bait was necessary.

I made sure to track Asher's movements, then changed into my uniform vest and stood at the mall entrance, holding a stack of flyers.

The people coming and going were all loaded, without exception, and they gave me disdainful looks.

"Hello, interested in a gym membership...?"

A flyer dropped to the ground. I bent down to pick it up, but a hand reached it before mine.

My heart skipped a beat. I looked up, and sure enough, it was Asher.

He was wearing a yellow delivery uniform, holding an insulated delivery bag.

"What a coincidence?" He handed me the flyer, a half-smile on his face.

I paused, then my face lit up with surprise.

"Asher? You're here... working too?"

Asher played along. "Just running a few orders."

I pulled him to sit on the steps by the mall's side entrance, then took out a half-empty water bottle from my bag, a little embarrassed.

"This is all I have. If you don't mind..."

Asher glanced at the bottle of water but didn't take it. Instead, he pulled out an unlabeled bottle from his delivery bag, twisted it open, and handed it to me.

"Drink this. A customer canceled the order."

I took it, sipping slowly. "Are you really struggling for money?"

Asher leaned against the wall. "Yeah, I'm deep in debt. Not sure how I'll even make rent next month."

I put down the bottle and reached out to hold his hand. "It's okay."

I looked into his eyes, my voice firm.

"I can pick up extra shifts. I'll support you. As long as we work together, we'll pay off the debt."

Asher's fingers stiffened. He turned his head, staring at me intently. "Anya, what do you want from me?"

I lowered my head, my cheeks slightly red. "I like you!"

Asher smiled. "Alright, then you support me."

He gripped my hand in return. "Remember, you said it yourself. Don't regret it."

I nodded vigorously. "Never."

Mr. Asher, you said it. Don't come crying later.

Brittany rallied the other roommates to freeze me out, loudly gossiping about me in the dorm.

"So shameless, she'll take any guy."

"Exactly, stealing Brittany's man. She needs to look at herself."

I ignored them all.

The skincare products Asher sent me were accidentally knocked over by Brittany and smashed into a million pieces.

She rolled her eyes. "Who told you to leave your stuff everywhere?"

I silently knelt down to clean up the mess.

Later that evening, while on a FaceTime call with Asher, I was putting ointment on the back of my hand.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked.

"Huh? Nothing, just bumped it accidentally." I hastily hid my hand behind my back.

The camera, however, subtly scanned over the pile of shattered skincare bottles on the corner of my desk.

The next day, Brittany's rich boyfriend, Brody, suddenly had all his cards frozen by his family, and then he unceremoniously dumped her.

Brittany was furious, cursing a blue streak in the dorm and smashing all her makeup.

I knew Asher was behind it.

Someone like him would never tolerate anyone touching what he considered his property.

Even if it was just a toy.

To solidify our relationship, I decided to give him a gift.

I ordered a hand-knitted scarf online.

I specifically requested it to be as ugly as possible, with as many loose threads as possible.

It cost thirty bucks, mainly for the emotional value.

Asher held the scarf, his expression a little hard to describe.

I stood beside him, my face burning red.

"I'm sorry... it's my first time knitting. It's too ugly, just throw it away."

I reached out to grab it back, but Asher dodged my hand.

He wrapped the scarf around his neck. "It's quite warm."

That night, Asher was exceptionally passionate. At a crucial moment, he suddenly paused.

He cupped my chin. "Anya, if I stayed this poor, would you still be with me?"

I hugged his neck tighter. "What are you talking about? I like you for who you are, not for your money."

I looked up, my eyes clear and full of deep affection.

"As long as I can be with you, I'll do anything."

Asher's body stiffened, then came a more intense thrust.

"Silly girl."

My gaze went over his shoulder, landing on the watch he'd casually tossed on the bedside table.

A Patek Philippe Nautilus, already selling for seven figures on the secondhand market.

I silently echoed, Idiot.

The next day, his Ins feed updated with a selfie of him wearing the scarf.

Although he'd blocked most people, at least he was willing to take a step.

That post really got to Brittany.

Dumped by the rich playboy, she remembered how good Asher, her backup, used to be.

Unwilling to give up, she stormed to the guys' dorm building to corner Asher.

But instead, she watched him get into a black Maybach.

Brittany was stunned on the spot.

She rushed back to the dorm with the secretly taken photo and threw her phone in front of me.

"Anya, you idiot, you've been scammed!"

"I knew something was off. How could a pauper look so aristocratic? Asher is clearly just a kept man!"

She grew more and more agitated, as if she'd stumbled upon some shocking secret.

I looked at the photo, a cold laugh forming in my heart.

Brittany, Brittany, your imagination only goes so far.

A script like the City's Crown Prince slumming it was clearly beyond your comprehension.

I pushed her phone away. "Asher isn't that kind of person."

Brittany scoffed, putting her phone away.

"Whether he is or isn't, we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?"

"Anya, you just wait to cry."

Of course, I wouldn't ask.

But an airhead like Brittany, if she really went to confront Asher about being an escort, given his temper, he'd definitely lose it on the spot and expose his identity.

Then, it would be difficult for me to get close to him again.

I looked at Brittany, then let out a cold laugh.

"Brittany, did that rich playboy dump you, and now you're desperate, trying to get back with Asher?"

"So you're putting on this whole show, trying to mess with us so you can swoop in?"

Brittany's face instantly turned purple.

"What are you talking about? How could I ever be interested in a pauper like him?!"

The more agitated she became, the more it proved I was right.

"If you're not interested, then why do you care if he's an escort?"

I pressed on. "Or is it that you just can't stand to see me doing well?"

Brittany glared at me viciously, but in the end, she didn't go confront Asher.

Soon, it was Asher's birthday.

I took out all my savings and maxed out my credit card to scrape together thirty thousand, then went to that upscale watch store I'd scouted earlier.

You have to spend money to make money.

On Asher's birthday, Brittany announced she was dating another rich playboy, Trevor.

"I'm not like some people, who can stomach dating a kept man."

I ignored her, carrying my plastic bag downstairs.

Asher was waiting for me under the tree.

"Asher." Brittany lifted her chin, her face full of superiority.

"Waiting for Anya here? You two are truly a match made in heaven, both reeking of poverty."

Trevor, the man with her, wrapped an arm around Brittany's waist and gave Asher a disdainful look.

"Hey, kid, I heard you used to chase Brittany. From now on, stay away from her. A bottom feeder should know his place."

Asher smiled. "Wishing you both a long and happy life together."

Brittany hadn't expected him to be so straightforward. She froze for a moment, then let out a cold snort and turned to get into a Porsche.

Asher stood there, and I walked over, silently standing behind him.

He turned, his gaze falling on the black plastic bag in my hand.

"What, ashamed of me?"

I didn't speak, instead conjuring a small box from behind my back.

I opened the box and lit a candle.

The wind was strong, so I cupped my hand around the flame.

The orange glow flickered on my face as I looked up, forcing a smile.

"Asher, happy birthday."

Asher's gaze shifted from the cake to the band-aid on my hand.

He stared at me, his previously mocking and cold eyes softening little by little.

I sniffled, holding the cake up to him. "Make a wish!"

The wind blew out the candle.

For the first time, I saw a flicker of guilt in the eyes of this elite scion.

Even if it was just for a second, it was enough.

I handed him the expensive watch that had cost me all my savings.

He opened the box, raising an eyebrow, seeming a little surprised, but he didn't ask any questions.

All the heartfelt words I'd prepared suddenly felt unnecessary.

Asher followed me back to my rented apartment.

I went to the kitchen to wash my hands, carefully calculating the total cost.

Thirty thousand for an entry ticket. This business deal was well worth it.

Asher walked into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around me from behind, burying his head in the crook of my neck.

I turned, and we embraced in a kiss.

He kissed me passionately, then suddenly stopped. "Wait for me."

I watched him walk into the bathroom, his silhouette moving behind the frosted glass.

The phone hed left on the bedside table lit up. A notification glowed on the screen:

"Your savings account has been credited: 0-00,000,000.00. Current balance: 0-034,578,990.50."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

As if pulled by a string, my hand reached out.

I punched in the password-memorized from a hundred stolen glances-and unlocked his phone with trembling fingers.

The first thing I opened was the banking app.

When I saw that impossible string of zeros with my own eyes, a wild laugh almost broke from my throat.

A rush of pure, electric triumph flooded my brain.

I won. I gambled and won.

My life was going to be completely different from today.

The rest of my life, no, the rest of my next life, was set.

But greed knows no bounds.

I wasn't content just seeing his money. I wanted to see his world.

It was the circle I'd only dreamed of entering-the city's so-called "young royalty."

This was the key. My ticket into a world I'd spent years watching from the outside.

I opened Snapchat. Pinned at the top was a group named?The Bet.

My stomach sank. A cold dread crept up my spine.

I tapped it open. The most recent message was a photo.

It was me-wearing that thin white tee, every curve visible, looking up with that carefully crafted mix of humility and invitation.

"Asher, this chick is something else. Body's a straight ten."

"Looks all sweet and innocent. Who knew she was that kind of girl?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. Hands shaking, I tapped on Asher's voice memo.

"She's...entertaining. With a body like that, it'd be a shame not to take her to bed."

I scrolled down.

Every "chance" encounter, every "vulnerable" confession I'd ever made-all of it was there, dissected in real time.

"So, Asher, what's the timeline on this one?"

"Bet she can't keep up the innocent act past next week."

"The best part's gonna be when she thinks she's got you hooked...and you ghost her."

I clutched the phone. Ice seemed to pour down my spine, freezing me from the inside out.

Every clever move, every calculated step-in his eyes, it was nothing but a clumsy, laughable performance.

A wave of shame-raw, humiliating, all-consuming-crashed over me, followed by the fury of being played and a cold, gripping fear of what came next.

The bathroom door opened.

I didn't have time to hide the phone, only to lift my head, stiff.

Asher stood in the doorway, a towel slung low around his hips, water still beading in his dark hair.

He leaned against the frame, pulled a cigarette from a pack, and lit it.

Through the swirling smoke, he looked at me, his face filled with condescending mockery.

"What, Anya? Can't keep playing the game?"