I walked towards the hospital, my body trembling uncontrollably. My mind couldn't rest, as I still hadn't secured the money needed for Uncle Martin's surgery. I had tried calling friends and colleagues, but none of them were willing to lend me the money.
"Hello, can you lend me some money? I'll pay you back as soon as possible. I need it for—" My word was cut off by the rejection on the other end of the line.
"No, I can't lend you any money. I know what your salary is as an ordinary employee. Don't call me asking for loans; find someone else." This was my last attempt to borrow money. Once again, I was rejected because of my modest office job and salary.
I was becoming increasingly desperate to save Uncle Martin. My job position was always seen as the lowest by my friends and colleagues.
I kept walking slowly, my body feeling weak, but I had to see Uncle Martin at the hospital. As I reached the crosswalk, I walked without noticing the red light. A car almost hit me.
The headlights blinded me, and the blaring horn snapped me out of my chaotic thoughts. My heart raced twice as fast, and I went into shock.
"Hey! Why aren't you paying attention to the road?!" The driver yelled at me, blaming me.
"I'm sorry, sir." I bowed briefly, acknowledging my mistake. I was so startled that my heart raced even faster, making my entire body feel weak.
Suddenly, my vision blurred, my head throbbed, and I felt a sharp pain. Before I completely lost consciousness, I saw someone step out of the car's back door and approach me. I glimpsed their long legs through my blurry vision. Before I could see their face, I passed out.
I didn't know how long I was unconscious. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an unfamiliar room. I didn't know where I was, but I had an IV drip attached to my arm. This didn't feel like a hospital. The place looked more like a private room.
I lay on a large bed, with small tables on either side. The room had windows covered by curtains, blocking my view outside. This place was too luxurious to be a hospital, even in a VVIP room. The other thing that surprised me was the deep voice that sounded familiar. "You're awake."
I recognized the voice, and my body froze. I swallowed hard several times, hoping it wasn't who I thought it was. But my eyes widened as soon as our gazes met. I knew him—he was my boss, Mr. August. A man known for his cold and rigid demeanor, surrounded by rumors of being cold-blooded, a killer, or even gay. These rumors weren't unfounded, especially since Mr. August had never been seen in a relationship with a woman.
"Mr. August," I whispered his name softly. I was genuinely afraid to address him or even make direct eye contact.
In truth, I felt sorry for Mr. August because he seemed unable to enjoy his life. It was evident from his behavior at work. Mr. August was a workaholic; if there was the slightest mistake, everyone would feel the impact. As far as I knew, he was the last person to leave the office, long after everyone else had gone home. However, no one knew the real story of his life.
"Tell me, did you plan all this? Are you trying to get my attention?" I was stunned by Mr. August's question. This time, his demeanor suggested that the rumors might be true.
I could see him scrutinizing me, trying to figure out what I was doing. "Of course not, sir. I apologize if this incident has inconvenienced you." I quickly answered, hoping to dispel any suspicion.
I had heard many times that Mr. August had a peculiar attitude. Many said it was why he remained single.
Unfortunately, I saw the disbelief in Mr. August's eyes. "In any case, I've taken responsibility. You can leave once you're feeling better."
Mr. August still seemed indifferent towards me. He didn't care about my condition, only noting that I seemed fine. This didn't surprise me, given his cold and rigid nature.
I was taken aback by his words. The man stood up, but then I remembered my uncle. Before I lost consciousness, I was on my way to the hospital to check on him. But now, I found myself in this unknown place.
"Thank you, Mr. August. May I ask where I am?" I inquired to confirm my whereabouts. I also wanted to know why he had brought me here.
He turned and looked at me sharply before responding, "At my house. I didn't want to cause a scene by taking you to the hospital. It was quite a hassle to find you unconscious in front of my car."
No wonder this place looked so luxurious and different from an apartment or hospital. It made sense he brought me here, given his explanation. But my mind was in turmoil, and I couldn't stop worrying about Uncle Martin's medical expenses.
"I thought this was a hospital. It turns out this is your house, sir. I remember trying to reach the hospital before I lost consciousness. But now I'm here." I was utterly confused, thinking about my uncle's condition.
"I called a doctor for you. The doctor said you're fine. So, you don't need to go to the hospital after this," Mr. August misunderstood my words. His eyes showed suspicion, making me anxious.
"No, sir, that's not it. I need to go to the hospital to see my uncle. He's sick and being treated there." I explained while looking at Mr. August, hoping to ask for his help.
Mr. August was a powerful man at my workplace, and seeing his luxurious house, I was sure he was very wealthy, owning several buildings and being a renowned businessman. I believed Mr. August could help me and lend me the money needed for Uncle Martin's surgery. However, I was scared to voice my request. I swallowed hard several times, trying to stay calm.
"Of course, your uncle's situation is none of my business. I don't care about that. But you were unconscious in front of my car." Mr. August seemed indifferent to my words. I understood why he acted this way—he was very cold and often ignored those around him.
I nodded, trying to stay calm, but my heart pushed me to speak and ask for his help. I looked at him several times, but I was always too scared. Mr. August's sharp gaze made me uncomfortable.
"I think you can leave now; your condition isn't as bad as you think." His deep voice made me swallow hard. I raised my head, mustering the courage to look at him.
This time, I had to say it. "Mr. August, can I borrow some money from you? My uncle needs it for his surgery, and I've tried everything, but no one will help me." I paused, thinking of what to say next to avoid his rejection.
He continued to look at me sharply, waiting for me to continue. "I'll do anything you want, sir. I'll even become your servant."
I couldn't think clearly; I spoke my mind out of desperation for Uncle Martin's surgery money. My head bowed, I anxiously awaited Mr. August's response.
Seconds passed, and Mr. August remained silent. He made no move to respond to my plea. As he moved toward the door, I called out, "Mr. August!"
Ignoring me, he continued to walk until he stopped and turned to face me. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath for his likely unfavorable answer.
"So, what is Mr. August's answer to my request?"