Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Our bus ride from our remote town lasted for over eight hours. As we entered the heart of Manhattan, New York, the scenery outside the window gradually changed. The simple roads were replaced by towering skyscrapers, glowing digital billboards, and the endless stream of moving vehicles.

Even though it was already morning, the weather here remained cold. The fog mingled with the city smoke, making it feel as if a serious and dark aura always loomed over this place. I could hear the excitement of my companions inside the bus as they stared at the luxurious shops along Fifth Avenue, but my own chest only grew heavier the closer we got to our destination.

The bus pulled up in front of a massive, opulent hotel—The Grand Arizmendi Plaza. It was a famous and renowned establishment throughout New York, owned by a mysterious billionaire.

We lined up in an orderly fashion as we entered through the hotel's back entrance for staff. We were taken straight to a spacious, private locker room where the costumes we were to use were already laid out.

"You will be called again because the gala isn't until tonight," a familiar voice announced from the front.

Standing before me was the same emotionless woman I had faced yesterday at the municipal hall. She wore a formal black suit, her posture perfectly straight, while her eyes remained as cold as ice.

What does she mean the gala isn't until tonight? Does that mean I won't be able to go home to my child tomorrow for his birthday?

A wave of weakness washed over me, causing me to look down.

“For safety purposes, no one knows the exact time of the gala. You will simply be summoned from your quarters. Follow Manager Hills,” the woman said, turning on her heel immediately.

We were led to a staff quarters at the back of the hotel. I saw several concrete, box-like lodgings. Ten women were assigned to each room. My companions were absolutely thrilled because the room was air-conditioned, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I sat down on a chair and pulled out my keypad phone. I sent a text message to my mother.

Mom, please tell Zarek that the gala schedule changed. I won't be able to make it home tomorrow for his birthday. Please tell him that I'll bring a cake when I get back.

I wanted to cry, but I forced myself to think about the money instead. Without it, I would have nothing to spend on our basic needs.

Food was provided for free inside the quarters. It was delicious, but my mind was stuck wondering what my mother and child were eating right now, while I sat here with a lavish meal in front of me.

“Go ahead and eat, Nessa. Don't you like it?” Vivian, one of my roommates, asked me.

“It's not that. I just remembered Z—my Mom. I told her I'd be home tomorrow, but it turns out I can't,” I replied sadly.

“You aren't used to leaving home, are you? That's why your mind is still left behind over there,” Jessa chimed in.

“As for me, I'm going to use my earnings here to find a new future in this place. Life is too hard back in our town, you can't survive there, and my stepfather is a drunkard to boot. I'm done with it. I don't care if I have to sell my body here, as long as I make money,” Marie shared casually.

“Nessa's parents must be really kind, which is why she misses them already.”

“I only have my mom left, and... my child.”

They all snapped their eyes toward me.

“My puppy child, Zarek.”

They burst into laughter. “You crazy girl. Watch your words. If someone else hears you, they might think you tricked them and that you're not actually a virgin anymore,” Bianca said.

I just smiled. May God forgive me for hiding the fact that I am a single mother, but if push comes to shove, I will never deny my child, no matter what he is. Even if everyone ends up thinking I'm insane for giving birth to a dog.

The moment for the party finally arrived. We were gathered once more at the back of the hotel, facing the manager. The paper bags they carried were labeled.

He handed them out to us, containing the outfits we were to wear. We immediately went inside the quarters to change.

When I opened my bag, my jaw nearly dropped. My eyes widened, and my entire face flushed hot with a chaotic mix of emotions, especially shock.

"What is this?!" I whispered softly to myself, my hands trembling.

The decent, simple waiter uniform I had expected was not a shirt and trousers, nor was it a skirt. What I held in my hands right now was a bunny attire. It was a tight, black corset bodysuit that was barely the length of underwear, paired with sheer black stockings, a white collar necktie, and a headband with long, white bunny ears. It even came with a pair of high heels.

I looked around. The other women were shocked too, but many of them quickly changed anyway so they wouldn't get fired. The $350 USD pay was no joke for people like us who desperately needed money. I remembered the face of my son, Zarek, and the food that Mom and I needed to buy. I swallowed hard. I had no choice. For my family, I would endure this.

Trembling, I put on the bunny headband. The outfit was incredibly short, almost exposing my groin, but I forced myself to stay strong. I slipped into the high heels.

The hours that followed became a blur of frantic activity. The hotel's grand ballroom looked like a palace fit for kings. The music of violins and pianos echoed throughout the space. The attending men—famous billionaires, politicians, and New York businessmen—carried a distinct air of elegance and authority. The women, on the other hand, wore glittering gowns.

No matter how hard I tried to focus on carrying my tray of champagne, I couldn't shake off the fear. I could feel the slimy, predatory, and scrutinizing gazes of the wealthy guests directed at us in our bunny suits. I could see the explicit lust in the eyes of these rich men, who looked like castrated Buddhas.

"Nessa, take this tray of the most expensive champagne to the VIP lounge on the very top floor. Make sure he is the one who receives and drinks it. That is a gift from one of his visitors. Matthew Arizmendi," a senior manager commanded me. "Hurry up, the hotel owner just arrived. Do not dare make a mistake."

"Y-Yes, sir," I answered.

I lifted the tray and stepped into the private elevator heading toward the hotel's penthouse and VIP lounge. My anxiety spiked even further because it felt as though I was about to face royalty. Why me? I should have been happy to be given this task, but I was terrified because I wasn't used to facing such important individuals.

When I reached the top floor, I noticed it was much quieter here compared to the noisy ballroom below. The hallway was shrouded in dim lighting, and the massive glass windows showcased a breathtaking view of the New York night sky. It was a world away from the place I came from, where the only things glowing in the dark were likely the eyes of wolves or whatever evil creatures lurked in the forest.

As I walked toward the door of the VIP room, I kept looking around. I saw a door with a digital scanner on the side. A name was written right above it. I knew that was my destination. Suddenly, the doors of the private elevator at the end of the hallway glided open. A man stepped out, flanked by four hulking bodyguards.

It was the most powerful and wealthiest businessman in all of New York, the owner of the hotel himself—Matthew Arizmendi.

He was tall, with broad shoulders, dressed in an impeccably expensive black suit. His black, wavy hair was slightly messy, and his jawline was razor-sharp. At first glance, he looked like your typical ruthless Manhattan billionaire, but in reality, he secretly ruled this entire city. I swallowed hard.

He's actually quite young. Why did he feel so familiar to me? Well, of course I knew who he was; he appeared in magazines and newspapers all the time. I just never expected him to be this incredibly handsome in person. His hair seemed to look different at times, occasionally looking very curly. Maybe he gets keratin treatments.

I immediately bowed my head to show respect, my hands shaking as I held onto the tray. I didn't actually know him personally. To me, he was just a powerful billionaire who owned the place I was currently working for.

As Matthew walked down the hallway, his footsteps suddenly ground to a halt right in front of me.

He looked at me. I looked up too, offering a small smile. Even with the high heels on, I barely reached his height. His gaze locked onto the white bunny ears I was wearing, traveled down to my tight corset suit, and finally snapped back to my face.

His expression shifted instantly. His fists secretly clenched in intense rage and shock as he stared daggers at me. His jaw tightened for a reason I couldn't comprehend.

"Who..." his deep, baritone voice shattered the silence of the hallway, "...gave you the permission to wear that kind of trash inside my building?”

My brow furrowed at his words. I was utterly bewildered, unable to understand why the billionaire Matthew Arizmendi was so furious about what I was wearing.

Why does he make it sound like it's my fault?

I was just a simple waitress following management's orders to earn a living. I had no idea this kind of clothing was forbidden in his sight. They were the ones who handed it to me; it wasn't like I chose this myself.