His ruin

The turn of events

"Emilia?"

It took me a second to recognize the woman standing before me.

"Jane?"

Before I could react, she threw her arms around me, nearly knocking me off balance. The coffee i had spilled on her moments ago was completely forgotten as she pulled me toward an empty outdoor table outside a fancy café.

"Oh my God, Emilia..." She took a long look at me, her eyes slowly scanning me from head to toe. "You look... different."

There wasn't an ounce of judgment in her voice, only disbelief.

Good different or bad different. I was unsure if I even wanted the answer.

"Yeah..." I forced a tight smile. "I guess so."

Let me introduce you to Jane.

We were classmates back in high school.

Jane was the type of girl who believed money made the world go round. She never cared much about what people thought of her, and she always chased whatever she wanted without apology.

Looking at her now, she had changed.

She looked elegant, expensive, effortlessly chic.

"Earth to Emilia."

Her voice pulled me back to reality.

"My bad." I rubbed my arms, becoming uncomfortable and impatient. "What were you saying again?"

She laughed softly.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?"

I simply shrugged.

"I was saying..." She leaned forward excitedly, "Why don't you come over to my place this evening? I have something important I want to talk to you about."

The more she spoke, the more confused I became.

"What kind of important?"

She ignored the question and reached into her designer handbag.

"This is my card." She slid it across the table. "My address and phone number are on it. I'll be expecting you."

Before I could ask another question, her phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen.

"I have to run."

She stood, flashed me a dazzling smile, and blew me a dramatic kiss.

"Bye, Emilia!"

"Bye... Jane."

I watched her disappear into the crowd, the business card still resting between my fingers.

What could possibly be so important?

.…..

I sat beside my sister's hospital bed.

She was fast asleep, her breathing slow and peaceful.

Absentmindedly, I stared at Jane's cream-colored business card….

Kensington residence, the address couldn’t go unnoticed.

It wasn't too far from the hospital.

Against my better judgment, curiosity won.

I slipped on my jacket, quietly left my sister's room, and walked outside.

After flagging down a cab, I handed the driver the address.

The entire ride there, one thought echoed in my head.

Please don't let me regret this.

Twenty-five minutes later, the taxi came to a stop in front of a beautiful apartment building in Kensington, West London.

The place screamed wealth.

Glass balconies.

Perfectly trimmed hedges.

Luxury cars lined the entrance.

For a moment, I simply stood there, taking it all in.

"Miss?"

The taxi driver's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Are you planning to admire the building all night, or are you going to pay me?"

"Oh!" Heat rushed to my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry."

I quickly paid him before making my way toward the entrance.

Standing outside, I pulled out my phone and dialed Jane's number.

The call barely rang once before she answered.

Almost as if she'd been waiting.

"I'm outside your apartment," I said.

"I know." Her voice was cheerful. "Room forty-nine. Use the elevator. I'll be waiting."

The call ended. Jane had always been strange, secretive and, to sum up, suspiciously mysterious.

Still, I walked inside, I stepped into the elevator.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of Apartment 49.

Just as I lifted my hand to knock...the door swung open.

Jane stood there wearing a silk white robe loosely tied around her waist. Beneath it, a delicate lace lingerie set peeked through.

"Uh... hi."

"Oh, don't just stand there. Come in."

She stepped aside.

I slowly walked in as the door clicked shut behind me.

"Make yourself comfortable," she called over her shoulder. "I'll be right back."

I wandered into the living room.

It overlooked the open kitchen, decorated in shades of white and gold.

Everything looked.…expensive.

If someone asked me why I had come here, I honestly wouldn't have an answer.

A few moments later, Jane returned carrying a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

"Wine?"

"Sure."

She poured us each a glass before handing one to me.

"Here."

"Thank you."

I took a careful sip as silence settled between us.

Jane watched me. "So..."

She rested her elbows on her knees.

"I know you're probably wondering why I invited you here."

I nodded.

"The truth is..." she sighed. "I'm worried about you."

I frowned.

"When I said earlier that you looked different..."

She hesitated.

"I meant... not in a good way."

"Pffft—"

The wine went down the wrong pipe.

"Ahem"

I doubled over, coughing uncontrollably.

Jane quickly took the wine from my hand and replaced it with a glass of water.

"Easy."

"Ahem"

After a few gulps of water, I finally caught my breath.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

A brief silence followed.

Then she looked me straight in the eye.

"Emilia."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to say something that's probably going to sound crazy."

I nodded slowly.

"I'm a stripper."

"...What?"

I blinked.

Surely I'd heard her wrong.

She smiled.

"Yep,"she continued to smile.

"Stripping gave me everything I have."

She gestured around the luxurious apartment.

"This place, the clothes, the money, my freedom."

"I pay every single one of my bills myself."

She clicked her fingers together, making a clock sign.

"No man pays my rent."

I stared at her in complete disbelief.

"It isn't as terrible as people make it seem, Emilia” She shrugged.

"I've stripped for Italian business people... Spanish CEOs... British millionaires... Scottish bankers..."

"Jane!."

"Name any nationality, and I've probably danced for them."

"Jane, stop, please stop!" I covered my ears.

"I don't want to hear how you sell yourself to those men."

Jane's expression hardened

"That's exactly the misconception."

She gently pulled my hands away from my ears.

"People hear 'stripper' and immediately think of prostitution."

She shook her head.

"That's not what stripping is. It's entertainment, It's confidence, It's owning your body, It's walking into a room and controlling the attention…not giving away your dignity."

She squeezed my hand.

"No one is opening their legs for anybody... unless they choose to."

She looked directly into my eyes.

"Do you want to?"

"No."

My answer came instantly.

"Of course not."

She smiled sadly.

"I know."

She moved closer to me on the couch and held both of my hands.

"Emilia..."

"I see you, I see how exhausted you are, I see how hard you're fighting."

"And I know exactly what it feels like to carry responsibilities that are too heavy for one person."

There was no mockery in her voice.

Only understanding.

"I've been where you are, I know what it's like to have bills you can't pay, to pretend everything's okay, to smile while you're drowning."

She squeezed my hands again.

"I just want to help."

She smiled gently.

"And trust me..."

She chuckled.

"Men love confident, beautiful women with long black hair."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes.

She laughed.

"So..."

"What do you say? Let me help you. Uhhm, "she says, raising an eyebrow.

And if someone had told me that this night would end with the possibility of me becoming a stripper...

I would have laughed in their face.