Infinite Rebate: I Get Richer Every Time I Spend

Gracie sat on the edge of the bed in the red lingerie, phone in hand, and didn’t dial Durnik right away.

She was ready. The outfit was ready. The lighting was ready. Even the soft, apologetic expression she planned to wear on camera was already half-practiced in her mind. Still, her thumb hovered over the screen without pressing anything.

If this went wrong, there would be no soft landing. Durnik was already humiliated, already furious, already dangerous in the way wounded men with money and pride often were. One bad move and she might make everything worse.

She opened her chat with Lucas instead.

Gracie: are you there?

Gracie: I need advice before I call him

Gracie: is it wise to do it now?

The messages went through.

No reply.

She waited, eyes fixed on the screen, watching for the little signs of life that never came. No typing. No read mark changing in any useful way. Just her own messages sitting there unanswered. After a few more minutes, irritation started eating through the nerves.

She called him.

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four.

Nothing.

Gracie pulled it away from her ear, stared at the screen, then called again. Same result. The tone kept dragging on while her frustration climbed higher with every unanswered ring. By the fifth attempt, her jaw had tightened and the soft seduction she had prepared for Durnik was already cracking under real annoyance.

"Why the hell is he not picking up?" she muttered.

---

Meanwhile, Lucas was asleep in the middle of the bed with all three girls still wrapped around him.

Mia had one arm over his stomach. Debbie’s thigh was hooked across his. Daisy was pressed to his other side with her face near his shoulder, breathing slowly against his skin. The room was quiet, warm, and heavy with the leftover ease of everything they had already done. His phone lay somewhere downstairs, completely ignored.

He looked like a man with no intention of involving himself in anyone else’s crisis that night.

---

Back in the hotel, Gracie finally lowered the phone.

The hesitation was gone, replaced by a sharper mood. If Lucas wanted to disappear, fine. She was not going to sit there in lingerie all night waiting for permission to survive.

She reached for her lip gloss, uncapped it, and dragged the applicator slowly across her lower lip, then the upper, pressing her mouth together until the shine settled wet and deliberate under the camera light. In the mirror, she still looked like exactly what Durnik liked best exposed, polished, and soft enough to make a furious man believe he still had the advantage.

Gracie locked the look in place, opened Durnik’s contact, and called him straight.

The call rang through once and died.

Gracie stared at the screen, jaw tight, then dialed again. And again. She was not in the mood to be ignored by two men in one night. If Durnik thought silence would protect him from the conversation, he was wrong.

On the fourth attempt, the line finally connected.

The second his face appeared, the anger came with it.

"You bitch," Durnik snarled. "I swear on every fucking person using TikTok, I will kill you. Do you hear me? I will kill you."

Gracie didn’t show him everything at once.

She kept the camera higher at first, framing mostly her face, bare shoulders, and the upper edge of the red lingerie straps. Just enough to suggest what she was wearing. Not enough to give him the full view yet. Her expression softened on purpose, mouth shiny under the lip gloss, eyes lowered like she already knew she was in trouble.

"I’m sorry, Daddy," she said sweetly. "I deserve it. I deserve all of this punishment."

That only seemed to offend him more.

"Don’t start that shit with me," Durnik snapped. "I know your fucking tricks. You think you can smile and sound soft and I’ll forget what you did? You humiliated me. You made me a joke. And that idiot you think is going to protect you? I’ll deal with him too."

Gracie let him talk.

She shifted slightly on the bed, angling her body so the camera caught the thin red straps and the soft push of her cleavage without fully exposing her yet. Her voice stayed slow, sticky-sweet, deliberately coaxing.

"I know," she murmured. "I was bad, papi. I made you angry. I deserve every word you’re saying."

"You deserve worse," he growled.

"I do." She nodded faintly, almost obedient. "I deserve to be punished. I deserve for you to be rough with me about it. I was ungrateful. I was stupid."

Her fingers moved to the first strap.

Durnik’s rant continued for another second, then started losing rhythm when he realized what she was doing.

Gracie slipped the thin red strap down her shoulder slowly, watching the camera like she was performing only for him. The tiny triangular cup loosened next. She peeled it away from one breast first, letting the soft flesh spill free under the hotel light.

Her nipple remained hidden beneath black tape, crossed in a clear X over the tip.

She did the same on the other side, exposing both breasts while leaving those black taped crosses in place, her voice staying soft and apologetic.

"I’m sorry, papi," she said in that warmer Latina tone, pushing her chest slightly forward toward the lens. "I deserve all of it. Every bad thing you want to say. Every punishment. Look... I’m not even hiding from you."

Then she touched them.

Both hands came up and cupped her breasts, pressing them together slowly, squeezing just enough to make the soft flesh spill around her fingers and around the black taped X over each nipple. She massaged them in front of the camera while she talked, thumbs stroking near the tape without removing it, using her body the same way she used it in private videos when she wanted money to move.

"I was wrong," she continued, lower now. "I should have never crossed you. I should have stayed sweet for you. I should have kept being your good girl instead of making a mess. Forgive me, Daddy... I’ll take the punishment. I’ll be better."

On the other end of the call, Durnik’s cursing finally stalled.

The fury was still in his face, but his eyes had locked onto her breasts bare except for those black taped crosses and refused to leave them. Whatever speech he still wanted to deliver sat useless on his tongue. For a moment he just stared, caught between rage and the exact weakness she had been counting on from the start.

Gracie noticed.

And she didn’t cover up.

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