Chapter 3: Nothing But Money and Sex
Seeing Jacintha fall silent, Raphael sneered. “Cat got your tongue? Hmph, don’t think that just because you have a face like hers, I’ll fall for you. Who do you think you are? No matter how much you resemble her, you’re not even worth a fingertip of hers!”
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"Mr. Wulfhart, I..." Jacintha stammered, her face flushing as if someone had slapped her. Her mind went blank, and her voice trembled, barely audible.
The "her" Raphael spoke of was a woman who looked strikingly like Jacintha — and she was the one Raphael truly loved. The truth was, the only reason Jacintha was allowed to become Raphael’s sugar baby was because her face bore an uncanny resemblance to that woman.
Two years ago, Jacintha had hit rock bottom and desperately needed a large sum of money to repay loan sharks. That’s when she decided to approach the ruler of Wulfhart, hoping for a chance to serve him — to become his woman. She thought that even the pocket money he might toss her on a whim would be enough to pull her out of her misery.
In truth, she was still haunted by her first night at Wulfhart. She couldn’t even be sure who had sex with her that night, because the growls and the sensations she felt didn’t seem human at all. In the years that followed, she suffered recurring nightmares and severe emotional trauma, but to pay her debts and support Jack and Mira, she had no choice but to bury her pain and keep going.
At the time, she hadn’t expected Raphael to notice her — she never thought she was anything special. But the moment he saw her, his icy blue eyes widened, his pupils dilated, and almost instantly, he lunged at her and pinned her to the floor.
The madness of possessiveness in his eyes frightened her, yet at the same time, stirred something deep inside her. His blue eyes were like the calm depths of the ocean, soothing the anxiety in her heart, while his silver hair lent an air of mystery and nobility to his sharply defined face.
Raphael’s appearance completely overwhelmed Jacintha, making her feel as if she had fallen in love with this man at first sight.
Just when Jacintha thought Raphael was about to kiss her, he suddenly turned away. After that, she officially became his "sugar baby". It wasn’t until much later that Jacintha discovered the reason for Raphael’s strange outburst—it was because her face looked too much like the woman he once loved—Sharon Rosenthal—a famous actress.
“Get out of the car!” Raphael’s shout snapped Jacintha back to reality.
She froze, her face pale, staring blankly at Raphael. She couldn’t believe he was throwing her out of the car in the middle of such a heavy downpour.
Seeing her stand there dazed, Raphael lost patience and barked, “Don’t make me say it again!”
His voice was ice-cold, laced with hatred, jolting Jacintha into awareness. Trembling, she reached out and opened the door in panic. The freezing rain slammed into her face.
As soon as she stepped onto the soaking wet pavement, the car sped off, its tires splashing rainwater all over her, drenching her shoes and staining her dress. On the deserted street, lit only by two dim streetlamps, there was nowhere she could take shelter from the rain.
Jacintha stood alone in the downpour, quickly soaked to the bone. Her clothes clung tightly to her body, and even though it was summer, she was shivering violently from the cold. Her face was deathly pale, her lips bluish from the chill.
Watching Raphael’s car disappear into the distance, Jacintha suddenly realized how pitiful and foolish she was. She should never have confessed her feelings to Raphael.
"What right does someone who once sold her body have to speak of love to Raphael? To Raphael, being liked by someone like her could only be an insult.
Between a sugar baby and a sugar daddy, it should always be about money—never about love. That’s the most basic rule in any transactional relationship.
Normally, she kept her feelings for Raphael deeply hidden, never allowing even a hint of affection to slip through in front of him, fearing his disdain. Yet tonight, she couldn’t hold back the emotions stirring inside her.
Perhaps it was because she saw Raphael in a foul mood after being rejected by Sharon, and Jacintha simply wanted to comfort him with a few words. But in the end, she had exposed the love she’d buried in the depths of her heart.
Now, she was despised by Raphael. And it was a consequence she had brought upon herself—for failing to understand her place.
Raphael was a wealthy and powerful man. He came from a noble bloodline, stood at the pinnacle of the entertainment empire, and possessed immense personal value. So many people in the industry yearned just for the chance to be fucked by him, yet never even got close.
Jacintha thought being by Raphael’s side for two years was already more luck than she deserved. So why had she dared to dream of things that were never hers to begin with?
She let out a bitter laugh, her lips curling faintly as her eyes stung. Everything before her seemed blurred, as though veiled in mist. She couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.
It was close to midnight when Jacintha finally returned home. The moment she opened the door, she froze in horror. The living room was in complete disarray. Shards of glass littered the floor, the coffee table, the sofa, the TV—everything looked like it had been smashed apart by someone."
Jacintha's heart tightened, certain it must have been the loan sharks who came.
"Mommy!" Her five-year-old son, Jack, dashed over and clung to her leg. "Those bad people came to our house again! I hate them so much!"
The little boy was so angry his small face flushed red. Jacintha felt both guilty and heartbroken. "I'm sorry, I came home late and scared you."
Jack pressed his lips together, eyes reddening as he looked up at her with a wounded expression. "Mommy, those bad people stepped on and broke my favorite toy plane..."
"Then tomorrow, we’ll buy a new one, okay? Or let me see if I can fix it?" Jacintha coaxed him gently.
The boy stopped crying and broke into a smile. "Okay! You help me fix the plane!"
Jack had a delicate face, smooth fair skin, round big eyes with sapphire-blue irises, and soft, short red hair framing his forehead—utterly adorable whenever he smiled.
Jacintha stared at his face, momentarily dazed. She thought to herself, "They really are father and son. The older Jack gets, the more he resembles Raphael..."
And now, Jacintha could confirm—the man who had slept with her six years ago, the one who took her virginity, was none other than Raphael.