Though, he still needed to give this woman more leniency and appreciation.
After all, he had been using her service for the past four years, the longest duration that Vincent had ever kept a condom.
There was a long silence between them until Vincent opened his mouth;
"So, what do you want?" Vincent asked straight to the point.
"Ah, w—what do I want—"
Of course, Priscilla had sothing that she wanted to say. She wanted Vincent to catch that fat whale Chloe, drag her to the bathroom, and let Priscilla get her revenge by beating the shit out of her.
But she couldn't outright say that.
Whenever she wanted sothing or wanted Vincent to do an errand for her, she would say it after sex. Because Vincent would be in a good mood and would just nod and accept whatever request Priscilla had.
'This is obviously not the right mont for that request….'
Hearing no response from Priscilla, Vincent repeated his question;
"I said, what do you need? I know that you want sothing, right? Is it money? I thought I've given you enough for four years, but I guess that's not enough."
Priscilla was stunned by the accusation and even more stunned when Vincent ripped a blank check and then wrote fifty thousand dollars in it.
He stuffed the check inside Priscilla's cleavage and said, "Here's your money. Don't you dare blackmail after this, or I might have to solve the problem with a bit of force."
…
Priscilla looked down and grabbed the check squeezed between her tits. She checked the number, and it was true. He gave her fifty thousand dollars.
Priscilla was humiliated. She couldn't believe that Vincent would put a price on her for a asly fifty thousand dollars!?
She wanted to rip the check in front of him to show that she wasn't a cheap whore, but then she rembered that she barely had enough money to support herself in her bank account.
Of course, she had money in the form of expensive bags and jewelry that Vincent had bought for her for the past four years. But those held sentintal value to her, and she refused to sell them unless she needed to.
So, she refrained from ripping the check and simply hid it behind her back.
Vincent watched her movent and scoffed, full of irony and ridicule, when he saw how she accepted the check reluctantly, "You get what you want, leave alone."
…
Priscilla didn't move an inch even after Vincent told her to leave, but she lowered her head as she didn't dare to look straight at him, staring at her with his displeased gaze.
The sa gaze that he often gave to Chloe.
"What now? Do you want more money?" Vincent sighed. He was about to rip another blank check and wrote fifty thousand dollars again, so Priscilla would get a hundred thousand dollars.
But Priscilla quickly refused, "That's not what I want…."
'Besides, I don't need that kind of small money when I can have you, Vincent. I am going to be Mrs. Gray in the future after all,' Priscilla said in her heart, still trying to convince herself that she deserved the title.
"Then what do you want? Say it quickly, I have things to do."
"I—" Priscilla tried to find a good sentence to start the conversation. "I t Chloe today."
Vincent's heartbeat skipped for a second. His gaze darkened, and he inquired more, "Where and what ti?"
"In a cheap diner in downtown Brooklyn. I t her around two in the afternoon, she was having her lunch alone ...." Priscilla replied.
"Did you take a picture of her?"
"Huh? Why would I take a picture of her? That's a waste of space in my phone!" Priscilla retorted quickly.
She couldn't imagine having to save that fat whale's picture in her phone, 'Yuck, that would take half of my phone storage, ewwww….'
Vincent clenched his fist instantly. He wanted to rip this bitch's mouth for talking shit about his wife.
But he controlled himself from doing so. He wanted to see what this bitch had to report.
"Then, what's her current condition?"
Priscilla started to get annoyed when Vincent kept asking about Chloe's well-being. Obviously, he should've asked about her condition first.
'Ugh, why did he beco so affectionate to that fat whale? There's sothing seriously wrong about him!'
However, Priscilla replied reluctantly, "She is putting on so weight…."
"PUTTING SO WEIGHT?!"
"Y—Yes…"
"So she looks normal now?"
"No… she's still thin. But not as thin as before…." Priscilla replied. She knew that Chloe's weight had fluctuated extrely for the past four years.
When she first t her, Chloe was obese. She was simply unkempt, fat, and ugly. That was why she kept calling her fat whale or blobby to tease her because the image of fat Chloe was already ingrained in her mory.
But after three years, she lost so much weight that she was practically skin and bone.
Vincent gritted his teeth.
'All my hardwork for the past ten years to keep her either extrely obese or thin as paper will be in vain at this point,' Vincent thought. 'I have to make her starve to near death by her own free will again once she returns. Or if she's already fattening herself, I need to make her extrely fat and disgusting again.'
The more Vincent imagined the sexy and gorgeous young Chloe who made everyone fall in love, the more pissed off he got.
'What did that asshole do to my wife? Did he make her feel safe and happy, so she will start bettering her body again? HAH, what an idiot! You're supposed to make her ugly and unwanted!'
Priscilla witnessed the range of emotion that Vincent showed on his face. She got concerned because Vincent was supposed to be a very unreadable and unpredictable man.
He never showed too much emotion unless when he was laughing at Chloe, who cried and begged to be left alone.
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