Chapter 2
1349 Words
WHO WAS HE?
Twenty thousand dollars—that's what it would cost to have her all night. Rosalind could hardly believe it.
“Done, ma’am,” said the graceful transgender stylist who had helped her get ready.
Rosalind looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She was in a five-star hotel room. The stylist did a great job in transforming her that she barely recognized herself. She wore a black bodycon dress that clung to her figure, paired with high stilettos from the same luxury brand as her dress. This was also the first time she used such an expensive perfume.
All of this was for the chance to meet a man whose age and name she didn’t know. She hadn't even seen his face. Her curiosity was piqued—what kind of man was he?
She knew he was a billionaire who hired a woman every week to spend the night with him, but beyond that, she was totally clueless. She didn't know if he was violent, mentally unstable, or anything else.
She wanted to back out at the last moment, but she had already received half of the payment, which had gone straight to her sister Raelyn's hospital bill.
Raelyn was everything to her.
The money had long been needed for Raelyn’s surgery, but despite all her hard work and sacrifices, she couldn’t save enough for her operation. Time was running out, and she couldn't bear the thought of it being too late. So now, she had no choice but to go through with it and take the plunge, even if it meant sacrificing the one thing she had left.
Her dignity.
A uniformed woman entered the hotel room. She looked at Rosalind before speaking, “Sir is waiting in his room now.”
Rosalind swallowed hard.
“Good luck, ma’am,” whispered the stylist.
With knees trembling, Rosalind stepped out of the hotel room. An attendant escorted her to the penthouse. They exited the elevator, then walked down a quiet hallway. At the end of it was an older man, probably in his mid-sixties, dressed in a pristine white tuxedo with a tag that read “Mr. Nar.”
He greeted them and turned to the attendant. “I’ll take her from here. Thank you.” He smiled at Rosalind. “How are you, Miss?”
She couldn’t return his smile.
“I understand how you feel. Come,” he said, guiding her into a spacious suite.
Despite her nervousness, Rosalind couldn’t help but admire her surroundings. The high ceiling of the suite made it feel as if she had stepped into a palace. Although the entire hotel was stunning, there was something different about this suite—maybe because this was the presidential suite?
The room was sparsely furnished, with large, plush sofas in the center and a round glass coffee table. There were no shelves or paintings adorning the sleek gray walls, but the ambiance was overall screaming with sophistication.
If only she could stay here.
"See that door?"
Rosalind blinked as she followed the direction the older man was pointing—a large, imposing door.
"He's inside."
Her throat suddenly got dry.
"I'll leave you now, Ms. Greene. Good luck."
Good luck? What was that supposed to mean? She nodded in response, too anxious to muster any words.
Mr. Nar left her alone, and she took a step toward the door where the man who would be her guest tonight was waiting.
She carefully reached for the handle and pushed the door open. Steeling herself, she stepped into the room.
Honestly, this was not how she imagined her first time would be. She had always been a hopeless romantic, dreaming of the day she would share something so intimate with someone she loved deeply. But life had a way of shattering fantasies, and here she was, about to give a piece of herself to a man she barely knew.
The room was eerily quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning. If it was dark outside, it was even darker inside. Only a few lampshades around provided some dim light. The windows were covered with blackout curtains, so not even a sliver of moonlight could sneak in.
She stepped further into the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness.
Where was he? Where was the man who purchased her for tonight?
Her eyes scanned the room—from the large bed in the center to the table and sofa on the side—until she spotted a tall figure in the shadows.
Her lips parted slightly as she took in his form. The man stood with his back to her, wearing a black long-sleeved polo.
She took a few steps closer. Even from a distance, she could smell a mix of cigarettes, alcohol, and what was undoubtedly a luxurious men’s cologne. It wasn’t harsh; rather, it was intriguingly subtle. She shook her head, bemused by her own thoughts.
“Sir?....” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.
She still couldn’t find her voice, especially now that she was about to face the man directly. Nonetheless, she tried to speak again.
“Sir, I am—”
“I don’t care who you are,” he interrupted coldly.
When he turned to face her, the dim light from the nearby lampshade touched his features. She was momentarily struck dumb by the sight.
The man before her was flawless from head to toe. Despite the soft lighting around them, there was no denying his perfection. He stepped fully into the light and she got a closer look at him.
This man was a prince straight out of a fairy tale book!
His features were a perfect mix of Spanish and American. He had a chiseled jawline, thick, dark eyebrows, a perfectly shaped nose, and sensual red lips. And his eyes…oh god…his eyes were alluringly deep and enigmatic that she found it hard to look away.
She wasn’t entirely sure about his skin color, but she could tell it was smooth. Her gaze traveled down to his broad chest, which was partially exposed due to some buttons of his black button-down shirt being undone.
Was she dreaming? How could someone like him want to spend time with someone like her? With his stunning looks, he could easily bed anyone he wanted to.
"Hey," his cold, commanding voice snapped her out of her daze.
She blinked, suddenly aware of him standing right in front of her.
The man crossed his arms and looked her up and down.
"I don’t need to know your name because we won’t be seeing each other again after this."
He didn't waste more time as he began to unfasten the remaining buttons of his shirt. After that, he reached for his belt next.
She gasped. His body was incredible—he had six-pack abs, broad shoulders, and perfectly sculpted muscles!
She told herself to stay calm. He was young and handsome, not some old, decrepit man like she had imagined earlier. She should be at ease.
But no matter how much she tried to convince herself that everything was fine because a handsome man would be taking her, she couldn’t relax.
Her heart raced as he fully undressed. His belt and pants lay discarded on the carpet, and now he was left in just his black briefs.
"Sir, wait!" she couldn’t help but call out.
He paused and looked at her sharply, his hands still on his briefs. "What?"
Her lips quivered. Her eyes darted on a bottle of red wine on the center table. "C-can I have a shot? Just one?"
One of his thick eyebrows arched, but he nodded in agreement.
Without wasting a second, she rushed over to the wine, hastily uncorked it, and took a swig straight from the bottle. She coughed as she turned back to him, only to choke even more when she saw he had removed his briefs as well.
Once her coughing fit subsided, she stood there, frozen.
"On your knees," he commanded.
Her mouth fell open.
"NOW."
- Writer
