Crescentia's heart pounded violently. For a moment, she thought he was asking about something else—something far deeper than just sleeping with a man for money.
"What do you mean?" she asked, forcing her face into a mask of indifference. "I'm a hooker. Of course, I've done this before."
Damian's dark gaze locked onto hers, searching.
She held her breath, refusing to let her nerves betray her.
Then, after a few beats of silence, he stepped back, his lips curving into a knowing smirk.
"Strip."
Crescentia stiffened.
The word rang in her ears like a gunshot.
She took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her fingers trembled as they wandered behind her back, grasping the zipper of her dress.
The metal rasped as it slid down, and the soft fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet.
Left in nothing but lace—red, like sin—she stood still as his gaze devoured her, heat simmering in his dark eyes.
Her skin burned under the weight of his stare, but she forced herself not to cower.
"Take everything off." His voice was thick, his jaw clenched.
Crescentia swallowed.
Her hands reached behind her, unhooking her bra. This time, she couldn't look at him.
She let it fall.
Then, her fingers hooked onto the waistband of her panties.
This is for the money. For Noella.
She kept repeating it in her head, as if it would numb the humiliation, as if it would silence the voice screaming inside her.
The last piece of fabric joined the dress on the floor.
A chill ran down her spine, goosebumps rising on her bare skin.
And then Damian smiled.
It wasn't kind.
It wasn't warm.
It was a hunter's grin—one that sent a shiver down her soul.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her body remained frozen, her arms wrapping around herself in an attempt to preserve whatever dignity she had left.
"Why so shy now?" he taunted.
Before she could respond, his lips crashed against hers.
The kiss was slow, deliberate, a contrast to what followed.
The night blurred into an agonizing, endless haze.
The bed creaked beneath them. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and skin against skin.
Crescentia bit her lip so hard, the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
She refused to cry.
Refused to let him see her break.
But just when she thought it was over, he reached for another condom. And another.
Until exhaustion swallowed her whole, and she lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing.
Just like that, her fate was sealed.
She was no longer the daughter of a wealthy tycoon.
She was now a hooker.
**
The next morning, Crescentia woke up with an aching body. She stared at the unfamiliar ceiling for quite some time, thinking about the previous night. She decided to get up when she suddenly heard a knock on the door that made her instinctively pull the blanket on her body.
The door opened, revealing the butler she'd met the previous night. "Good morning, miss. Breakfast is ready so please get ready and come downstairs."
Crescentia blinked at him. Wasn't she supposed to get dressed and leave the next morning? Not sure if this was how aftercare worked after sex.
"I'll be there."
"Good. This is what you're going to wear. The bathroom is already packed with new toiletries you would need," he said, dropping a sunflower dress on the bed. Then he gave a nod and left with quiet steps.
Once the door closed with a soft click, Crescentia stared at the sunflower dress, confusion knitting her brows. She didn't dwell on it for long and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, only to regret it instantly. The moment her feet touched the floor, her knees buckled and a sharp ache shot through her body, as if everything inside her had been violently rearranged.
Then she went to the bathroom to take a shower.
Downstairs,
Damian was already seated at the dining table, a phone pressed to his ear. His expression was sour, his fingers drumming against the table impatiently.
"You keep saying you have a girlfriend and I'm telling you to bring her to the family dinner. And now you don't want to?" His grandmother questioned.
"Isn't my words enough to prove that I have a woman?" Damian questioned back, stabbing a bacon and chewing aggressively on it.
"No offense, but I don't trust you. You've been saying that for over three months already. I just want to meet her, and that's it. Introduce her to the family." Damian rolled his eyes, already predicting what her next words would be. "You want me to die before you bring a woman home right? I see, that's your plan. You want me dead."
Damian was about to argue with his grandmother when he saw Crescentia stepping down the stairs in the dress he'd asked the butler to hand to her.
Her steps were awkward but he had a good idea why.
"I'll be bringing her to the family dinner," he said. Even though his grandma was on the other side of the phone, he could feel her eyes lit up in excitement.
"I'll be waiting," she said and hung up on the call.
"How was your night, darling?" he drawled, his voice thick with amusement.
Crescentia stiffened.
She gave a stiff nod, unsure if they were even supposed to acknowledge each other now.
"I haven't received the money," she reminded him, her voice steady despite the emotions she tried to suppress.
Damian chuckled, resting his chin on his hand. "Always eager for money, aren't you?"
His fingers danced over his phone, and within moments, her phone buzzed.
She checked.
Only half the amount had been sent.
Her eyes snapped to him, suspicion clouding her gaze. "Half?"
"I have another offer for you."
Her arms folded across her chest. "I'm listening."
"I need a girlfriend for a family dinner tomorrow night." His tone was casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "Play the role convincingly, and I'll add an extra fifty grand."
Crescentia stared at him. Of all the things she had expected him to say, this wasn't one of them.
"You… want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?" Disbelief laced her voice.
Damian nodded, as if humoring a child. "That's right."
She hesitated. "Why me?"
His lips curled, but the answer in his eyes was not one she could read.
"Because you're convenient."