Ah, it feels like all this happened just yesterday. It's been three months since my parents died, and now I have to take care of everything. I'm the head of the family. My younger siblings are in boarding school, and I have to make sure they're okay. After our parents died, I could've pulled them out and put them in public school—it would've been easier. But I promised them things wouldn't change. I swore they'd still enjoy life the way they did when Mom and Dad were alive.
I didn't know how hard it would be. Now I have to work—hard.
"Serena," she muttered to herself while wiping down the bar tables, lost in thought.
"Hey! You're always lost in your damn thoughts, girl. Move faster—I'm about to open up, and customers are coming!"
That was Angela, the bar owner. She shouted from across the room, annoyed.
Serena didn't answer. She snapped back to reality, finished cleaning the table in front of her, then headed to the back room to change.
A few minutes later, she approached Angela. The woman handed her $25. Serena took the money silently, checked the time on her watch, and hurried off.
"I'm already late… I have to go," she muttered, pushing open the bar door.
Angela watched her leave. "Things have been rough for that girl," she said under her breath. "I don't blame her for that cold look in her eyes."
Serena raced to her second job—working at a small restaurant, serving food. She arrived just as her boss was standing at the door.
"Hey! Late again. You were supposed to be here by 1:30. It's already 2:00," he snapped.
"I was working my other job," she said, locking eyes with him. "You know how things are for me."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Just get moving. Go change and get out there—customers are waiting."
She did as he said, working non-stop, serving food, taking orders, making sales. From 2:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m., she didn't take a break.
At closing time, the boss called her to the back.
"You did well today," he said. "Even though you came late, I won't deduct your pay. Here—$80."
"Okay," she replied, taking the money.
As she turned to leave, he stepped closer behind her. "Serena… I know you've been through a lot. But that icy attitude of yours—if you don't change it, you'll never find a man who'll love you."
She paused, just for a moment, then walked away without responding.
Serena was beautiful. Slim, dark-haired, with a sharp nose and an unreadable expression.
She left without a word, slipping into the night.
It was time for her main job—the one that paid the most.
Prostitution.
She reached the club without expecting anything special. "Just another night," she thought.
As she entered, the heavy smell of alcohol clung to the air—strong, familiar, and impossible to ignore.
But the moment she walked in, The boss pulled her aside—"You've been booked," he told her. "Before you even got here."
Serena blinked once. No flicker of surprise crossed her face as she turned and walked away, and headed to the back to change into something small and tight.
She wasn't sure what to make of it. Booked before arriving? That didn't happen often.
She turned toward the receptionist's desk.
"Hey," Serena said, approaching. "What room is my client in? Downstairs?"
Eva, the receptionist, grinned. "Serena, you're really lucky tonight. You've finally landed your first VIP client."
Serena blinked. "VIP?"
"And that's not even the crazy part," Eva went on, leaning in. "He paid in advance. Your cut is about fifteen grand."
Serena's face shifted. Her chest tightened. Fifteen thousand dollars. That was more than just a good night—it was enough to walk away.
That's enough to quit this job. Enough to start something. Something clean. A business. A new life, she thought. I just have to get through this one last night. No matter how gross or unpredictable he is. Just this one.
She drifted into her thoughts until Eva snapped her fingers. "Hey. Serena. You okay?"
Serena blinked. "Sorry. Zoned out."
Eva nodded, still smiling. "You're not going downstairs. VIP is upstairs. Room 034. Now go. And do your best."
Serena said nothing. She turned and walked toward the staircase, her expression unreadable.
As she climbed, she breathed in. Then out. Again. Then again. Slow, steady.
Room 034. Let this be quick. One last time, she told herself.
At the door, she paused. Drew a final breath. Then knocked and stepped inside.
What she saw surprised her.
The man was dressed in a sharp suit, seated casually with a briefcase by his side. He wore an expensive Rolex. Clean-cut. Calm. Charming, even.
He stood and stretched out his hand. "I'm Leonardo."
Serena didn't move. Didn't take his hand.
"There's no need for that," she said coolly. "Let's just get this over with. Do what you came for."
Leonardo's expression didn't change. "I've heard about you. Makes sense someone paid in advance without even meeting you. Booked a VIP room, no questions asked."
"Maybe I'm worth it. Maybe I'm not," Serena replied, voice flat. "All I know is, men always want the same thing. So take what you paid for. Then let me leave."
He studied her. She didn't flinch.
She's just like they said, he thought. Cold. Perfect.
"I didn't come here to sleep with you," Leonardo said finally. He gestured to the bed. "Sit. Please."
Serena hesitated. Then walked over and sat down. He joined her, keeping a respectful distance.
"I'm not here for sex. I didn't pay for that," he said. "I want to make a deal. Something serious. And I'll pay whatever it takes."
She turned slightly toward him. "What kind of deal?"
"I'll keep it short," he said. "I don't want to waste time—yours or mine. I'll get straight to the point. And you can decide if it's worth it."
"Okay, go on," Serena said, arms crossed, face unreadable.
"Will you marry me?" Leonardo said with a calm smile, slipping his hand into his pocket as he put on his glasses.
Serena blinked, then scoffed. "What do you mean?