I woke up around two in the afternoon, my head heavy and my body feeling strange, like I hadn't slept enough. Sunlight filtered through the half-open curtains, illuminating a room I definitely didn't recognize. It took me a few seconds to understand where I was. It wasn't my room. Not even close.
The space was large, with light-colored walls and elegant furniture. The bed I was lying in was far bigger than anything you'd find in a normal bedroom, with soft sheets and expensive pillows. Sophisticated paintings hung on the walls, a modern-designed lamp stood beside the bed, and a subtle fragrance lingered in the air, mixed with a faint smell of alcohol from the night before. Everything about that room felt far too luxurious to belong to an ordinary college student.
Still groggy, I sat up on the bed and began looking for my things. My eyes scanned the floor, the armchair near the window, and the table in the corner of the room. I needed to find my clothes… and my phone. I couldn't even remember how I had ended up there.
After a few seconds of searching, I spotted my phone on the floor, partially hidden between my underwear and my shirt. Seeing it brought a sense of relief. At least I hadn't lost everything. I picked it up and placed it on the bed. Speaking of underwear, I realized I was still completely naked. I decided to get dressed.
I put on my underwear and pants, and when I grabbed my shirt, I noticed a horrible smell coming from it. A strong odor of alcohol. I must have spilled some drink on it the night before.
Even so, I had no choice. I had to wear it anyway; I couldn't go home without a shirt. The only thing missing now was my sneakers, and I had no idea where they were. I sighed and sat back down on the edge of the bed, deciding to wait for Vanessa. Walking around a mafia house on my own didn't seem like a good idea, right?
While I waited, I grabbed my phone to kill some time. I opened my contact list and, as always, felt a familiar tightness in my chest. There weren't many names — clear proof of how unpopular I was. There was only one new message, from Nathan, asking if I was okay.
I replied that I was fine and that I had good news to tell him, but not over text. I wanted to see his reaction in person. Just as I finished sending the message, the bathroom door opened and Vanessa stepped out, wrapped in a towel.
"Finally awake," she said as she walked toward the wardrobe. "Don't you want to take a shower too?"
"No…" I answered instinctively, then quickly corrected myself. "I mean, I do, but I don't have clean clothes. It would be a waste of time. I think it's better to shower at home."
Vanessa opened a drawer, took out a white pair of panties, and let the towel fall without any shame, revealing her round, white ass. My dick instantly tingled at the sight of her getting dressed. Even so, I didn't ask to have sex again. She had already showered, and we'd already done it that morning. Since we barely knew each other, I didn't want to come off as a sex-obsessed maniac.
She finished getting dressed with a pair of lightweight shorts and a loose shirt that looked like sleepwear, without a bra.
"If you don't want to shower… at least eat something?"
"I appreciate your kindness, but I'm not hungry," I replied with a smile.
"All right, I won't force you."
"Thanks. Uh… do you know where my sneakers are? I need them to go home."
"Follow me."
I left the bedroom behind Vanessa. Her house was practically a mansion, filled with portraits of family members, sculptures, works of art, and other clearly expensive items. In the main hall, there was a massive white bear-skin rug — something deeply macabre. As we walked toward the front door, I couldn't help but notice a few men in black suits positioned around the house.
Well… I'd rather not comment on that.
Near the door, I spotted my sneakers tossed into a corner. They used to be white. Now they were some strange mixed color and smelled awful. Someone had thrown up on them. All I could do was sigh when I saw them.
"Your sneakers are disgusting," Vanessa commented.
I could only agree.
"DEMITRI!" Vanessa shouted.
A gigantic man appeared almost immediately. He had a grotesque scar on his face, thick eyebrows, a square jaw, and dead, expressionless eyes.
"Take Luke home," Vanessa ordered.
Luke. That's my name.
"Yes, miss," Demitri replied in a deep voice. "Follow me."
"He'll take you home safely," Vanessa said.
Demitri walked out with long strides, and I followed right behind him. Before stepping through the door, however, I gently pulled Vanessa toward me and pressed my lips to hers. She looked at me in surprise.
"Once again, thank you for everything," I said with a warm smile.
I saw a faint blush appear on her cheeks, something unusual for the cold woman who roamed the college campus. Since Demitri was already walking away, I hurried after him, leaving Vanessa behind.
"Oh, Luke! I didn't get your contact," I heard her say.
"We'll talk tomorrow," I replied, already moving.
In truth, I'd wanted her contact from the beginning, but now I had the perfect excuse to start a conversation the next day. Of course, there were other reasons, like the party, but this was a card up my sleeve.
With Demitri as my driver, I got into a white BMW. He stayed completely silent during the entire ride, only stopping when we reached the building where I live. He didn't even bother saying goodbye. Clearly not the friendly type.
The building I live in is considered quite upscale. As I said before, I'm the heir to a company. I don't manage it yet; my uncle, my late father's brother, takes care of everything. My father died three years ago, along with my stepmother. To make matters worse, my mother also passed away when I was still a child.
After my father's death, the company was left to me. It's a modeling agency. We work in partnership with several other companies, which hire our models for commercials, magazines, TV series, movies, and any job that requires a pretty face.
So why am I studying economics? According to my uncle, it was necessary to learn the basics first. The rest — the real, hands-on experience — he would teach me over time.
"Got home late, loser."
That was how I was greeted when I walked in. I live on the top floor, in a duplex left to me by my father. It could've been paradise, if not for the woman in panties sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"Hey, Bianca."
Bianca is my stepmother's daughter. When we first met, I tried to build some kind of relationship with her, but her attitude was always terrible. You know that hot, popular girl, the spoiled princess who treats everyone like trash except her friends? Yeah. That's her. She's always treated me badly.
She's twenty-seven years old and one of the agency's models — actually, the main one. Despite her awful personality, she's beautiful and incredibly sexy. Honey-colored eyes, light brown hair, smooth skin, big round breasts, thick thighs, and an ass that makes the other models jealous.
She lives with me out of pure convenience. She doesn't have to cook or pay bills. My uncle covers all the expenses, and she keeps her salary to spend however she wants. What really gets to me is the fact that she walks around the house wearing nothing but a shirt and panties. Doesn't she see me as a man?
"I went to a party last night…" I tried to say, but Bianca cut me off.
"I don't care."
I gave up. I still imagine that one day we might get along, but it's going to take a lot of effort. Bianca is a complicated woman. I left her laughing at her phone and went upstairs to my room to take a shower. I sank into the bathtub and relaxed, letting the hot water ease my body.
"Tomorrow I have an early class… fuck."
I couldn't help but complain.