The Slave of Pleasure

Rachel

I arrived home after that surreal encounter with Vincenzzo Moretti, still trying to process everything that had happened. I felt strange, as if I was living a life that wasn't mine. The money he had given me, ten thousand dollars, was in my account, and with it, I was able to resolve some pending issues that had been tormenting me.

I paid the bills that were piling up: rent, electricity, water, and internet. I was also able to buy the medicines that my mother urgently needed. This brought temporary relief, a feeling that at least part of the weight had been lifted from my shoulders. However, reality was still harsh. I knew that this money wouldn't last forever, and that soon I would have to deal again with the financial worries that seemed to haunt me at every step.

I sat down at the kitchen table, where my old laptop was still working with difficulty. I needed to act quickly, I needed a job, a solution that didn't involve something as drastic as what Vincenzzo had suggested. I opened several tabs on job boards, scouring each one for something that would give me hope. I sent my resume to several companies, without any great expectations, but with the urgent need to try something.

As the hours passed, I felt more and more tired. Anxiety tightened my chest, a suffocating feeling that time was running out and that I was in a race against the clock. I wanted to believe that things would get better soon, but with each resume I sent, with each click, I felt a little more defeated.

After a few hours of trying, exhaustion took over. I closed my laptop and rested my head on the table, wishing the world would stop for a moment so I could breathe. It was in that moment of exhaustion that my phone rang, waking me from a near doze. My mother's name appeared on the screen, and a chill ran down my spine.

"Hi, Mom," I answered, trying to hide my nervousness.

"Rachel, honey, the doctor wants to see you," she said, her voice thick with concern. "He said it's urgent."

My mind started to spin. What could possibly be so urgent? Fear took over me. I hung up the phone quickly, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I knew I needed to go to the hospital, but the fear of what I might find paralyzed me. There was no more time to hesitate; I had to face whatever was coming.

I grabbed my things and left the house, praying that what awaited me at the hospital wouldn't be as bad as what my mind was imagining.

I arrived at the hospital with my heart in my throat, trying to stay calm while my mind raced a mile a minute. All I could think about was the serious tone of my mother's voice on the phone and the words "urgent" and "doctor." It wasn't the first time I had received news like this, but anxiety never stopped when it came to her health.

As soon as I enter the waiting room, I am greeted by the doctor, Dr. Moreira, a middle-aged man with a serious expression. He greets me with a nod and leads me to a more private room, away from prying eyes. Each step I take toward that room feels like it weighs a ton.

"Rachel, I'm going to be very direct with you, because this is an urgent situation," he begins, bluntly, as soon as we close the door behind us. The gravity in his voice makes my stomach turn, and I feel a chill down my spine that seems to paralyze me.

"What happened? How is she?" My voice comes out thinner and more fragile than I would like, betraying the nervousness I'm trying to suppress.

He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Your mother is no longer responding to conventional treatment, Rachel. We've tried everything, but now... the only viable option is surgery. A very risky surgery, I might add." My mind refuses to process what he's saying. Surgery? Risky? The words echo in my head, meaningless, as if he were speaking in another language. "And... and when can she have this surgery?" I ask, trying to hold on to any shred of hope. Dr. Moreira looks more tired than ever. "That's the problem. Her health insurance doesn't cover this surgery."

My vision starts to blur at the edges, and my heart skips a beat. "How much... how much will it cost?"

He hesitates, as if he doesn't want to say, but finally says the words, "With tests, pre- and post-op, anesthesia, and everything else, we're talking about something like $150,000."

I feel like the ground has been ripped out from under me. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. My mind automatically tries to find a solution, a way out, but all I can think is that I'm completely screwed. I've just been laid off, the only income I've had recently is Vincenzo's money, and it's barely enough to get me through a few more days.

"You're not serious..." My voz is a whisper, barely audible.

"I wish I could say otherwise, Rachel. But unfortunately, that's the reality," he answers, staring at me with an expression of genuine sadness.

For a few moments, silence reigns in the room, thick and suffocating. I'm on the verge of despair, but I know I can't break down now. "How long does she have? To wait for the surgery?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Dr. Moreira takes another deep breath, looking directly into my eyes. "To be honest, a week at most. We can't wait any longer than that."

A week. Seven days. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

The world seems to be falling apart around me, but all I can think is that I need to do something, anything, to save my mother. Even if it means sacrificing everything I am.

I left the office with my head racing. Everything seemed to be spinning in a whirlwind, but I had no other choice. I turned to the doctor, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Doctor, I need three days. I'll get the money. Schedule the surgery," I asked, looking him in the eye.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

He watched me for a moment, as if trying to understand what I had in mind, but he just nodded.

"Three days, Rachel. I'll do my best to hold things together until then," he replied, with a slight tone of concern.

I thanked him and left, picking up my cell phone with shaking hands as I walked through the cold corridors of the hospital. The walls seemed to close in around me, but I knew I couldn't give in to fear. Not now. Vincenzo. His number was in the recent history. I took a deep breath before pressing the call button. The sound of the ring seemed to drag on for an eternity until he finally answered.

"Rachel?" his voice sounded on the other end, calm and controlled, as always.

"I want to make a deal!" I declared, firmly, even with my heart beating wildly in my chest.

Now there was no turning back.