Ch. 1 - A DAMSEL TO BE SAVED

JENSYN

I smiled across the table at my new client, Derek Mills, in a dimly lit corner table of an exclusive restaurant in the city. Around us, the laughter and chatter of the wealthy elites blended with the clinking of silverware and glasses of expensive wine.

My role was simple; act like Derek's doting girlfriend and get paid. This was only our second date, but I already knew enough. Derek was rich, reckless, and engaged to a woman who wasn’t me. A woman who didn’t even know I existed.

But it was just a job. I have been working as an escort for almost three months now. The pay was decent, though it was never enough.

“Jensyn, would you like me to pour you another glass of wine?” Derek asked, flashing me a smile with a playful gleam in his eyes.

I nodded, lifting my glass, even though my stomach twisted. I needed the money too much to let it show. My eyes flicked to the gold watch gleaming on his wrist, the light catching on its sharp edges. 

“Oh goodness!” Derek exclaimed, looking down at the lobster in front of him. “This thing is bigger than my appetite.” His deep laugh rolled across the table, and his friends roared with him.

“You've got your woman to help you with that.” One of Derek's friends teased.

I smiled again, the same way I always did-pretty, polished, and empty. I looked over at Derek's lobster towering over his plate; it was an extravagant display of wealth, just like the watch on his wrist—a Tag Heuer brand product, and it was likely worth more than what I could make in months of hard work.

What if I owned that watch? I thought.

“Let me help you with that, love,” I said, my voice light and thoughtful. “That watch is the first hindrance.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What do you mean?"

I reached across the table, taking hold of his wrist. “It is getting in the way of your big feast.” I playfully tugged at the straps of the watch, pretending to struggle with it. “You can see I’m also struggling with it; let me help you take it off and cut your lobster into smaller bits.”

The men around the table chuckled, thinking it was a genuine romantic gesture. Derek laughed. “You are a wonderful woman, Jensyn,” he winked at me, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

My smile broadened as I tried to mask my growing nervousness. I slipped the watch off smoothly and held it in my hand. “All done," I cooed.

He gave a wide grin. “You are so sweet; thank you.” He said, kissing my hand. I shrugged his gestures off with a forced smile. My mind went back to the weight of my mother’s medical bills. I needed money, I thought. The money I'd get tonight wouldn't be enough. It would never be enough.

My eyes flicked to the watch I held in my hand, cold and expensive. The watch. It could cover part of my bills if sold. The thought flickered through my mind, almost too hard to register.

Stealing? I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus on the conversation again. 

Just take it, I told myself. You could sell it and get the money. Your mom. The thought of my mother, weak and exhausted in the hospital bed with cancer, made my insides turn.

I glanced at Derek, who was laughing with his friends, completely unaware of my internal struggle. He seemed so carefree, oblivious of my emotions. What if I got caught?

But then another voice, one that was low, more desperate cut through. You need this. Your mom needs this.

Without further ado, I reached down and hid the watch in my clutch bag. “Derek, I want to use the restroom.” I got up immediately. I didn't wait for Derek to answer me before I excused myself from the table. I could feel the eyes of Derek's friends following me, but I kept my head high and made my way to the restroom.

In the restroom, the first thing I did was to find another door that could be my escape route. I found one and went back to the sink, staring at my reflection.

I stared down at the watch in my hand, not wanting to feel guilty until I was done with the plan that was formulating in my head; then, I pulled out my phone and typed a message to Derek.

>>I am so sorry for this. I just left the restaurant, and I took your watch with me. I intend to sell it for my mother's cancer treatment. I had no other option except this. Please don’t come after me, I beg you.>>

I looked at the message for a while. Why not just ask for Derek's help? He could help me. Derek had money. He might be willing to lend me.

But then, another voice echoed in my head. What if he wants something else in return? Something… like sex?

No! I could never give him that. With a shaky breath, I swiped my thumb over the screen and hit send. 

My plan was simple: to leave the restaurant, ditch my dress so I could blend well with the others, and disappear.

My hands trembled as I grabbed the hem of my gown, ready to tear it. The elegant dress was the only expensive belonging I had. Ripping it off was a bad option, but I had no choice. I tore it; the rich fabric came with a deafening sound, and I paused, watching the remnants of luxury slip through my fingers. I let my hair down and walked out of the restroom. My eyes locked onto the door I had discovered earlier.

As I stepped outside, the cold air hit me, and I knew I had to make a run. Now.

But then, I heard some people shouting. "Where is she?!"

That was Derek's voice! Wasn't it? I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see him storming out of the restaurant, accompanied by two of the waiters.

I am screwed.

I ran. I could feel the panic setting in, my heart pounding as I dashed down the street. My heels clicked loudly on the pavement. The heels made it difficult to run, and I fell immediately.

Damnation!

I looked back, and heard the restaurant staff shouting behind me, their voices growing louder. “Oh Lord!” I cried out.

“That's her! Get her!”

I sprinted up, my breath coming in quick gasps, my pulse racing. I heard the bone in my ankle snap—a sprain maybe. Pain crept up my leg, but adrenaline shoved me forward. I staggered, half-running, half-limping toward the alley’s end.

The sound of Derek’s voice was growing fainter, but I knew they were still chasing me. I wouldn't give up. I would sell the watch, yeah, pay for my mother's hospital bills, and find a way to beg Derek. The escort company wouldn't go easy on me, but I was ready for the repercussions.

As I turned into the alley, I slammed into something—or rather, someone—solid. Hands first, and then arms. I looked up into the stranger’s face—sharp jaw, blue eyes, and a frown. For a split second, reckless hope flared in my heart, raw and stupid.

"Please," I whispered, voice trembling. "I need help. Please, just get me out of here."

The stranger’s expression was unreadable as he looked down at me. Then, his gaze shifted over my shoulder, his eyes narrowed, taking the frantic look in my eyes.

"What?" He asked, his voice low and steady.

“I NEED to get out of here," I replied. "Please, I’m begging you. Get me out of here!"

The man took a step closer, as if he wanted to walk past me, his gaze scanning the street. Then, without a word, he grabbed my arm firmly and started walking, pulling me along with him towards a car.

We got to the car, and a man was in the driver's seat. The man beside me instructed the driver to drive away immediately. Derek and the staff had finally caught up and they watched as I got into the car.

The man beside me had seen this before I did. “Drive Carlos, and don't you dare step on the brakes. If you have to run them over, do it. Just. Don’t. Stop. Driving.”