Falling for the Contract

Rae’s POV

I wasn’t supposed to say it out loud. But I did.

Sitting on the edge of Zara’s bed, clutching a throw pillow like it could swallow my shame.

“I still haven’t lost it,” I muttered, eyes fixed on the floor.

Zara’s head snapped around. “Wait. Still?! I thought you and Caleb-?”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” I groaned. “We tried. And by tried, I mean... he couldn’t even get it in.”

Zara’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

I sank deeper into the pillow, face burning. “It was awkward. He kept apologizing, saying he was nervous. And I…I just couldn’t stop overthinking. Then his mom called, and that was the end of it.”

Zara blinked. Then covered her mouth like she was about to explode.

And she did. Into laughter.

“Oh my God, Rae. You poor, innocent cupcake.”

“Don’t laugh! I’m so traumatized.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at boys,” she said, flopping beside me. “You deserve better than some soft-spoken college baby who doesn’t know the difference between a G-spot and a G****e map.”

I groaned louder.

“No, listen. I’m serious.” Her voice suddenly dropped to that dangerous whisper she always used right before trouble. “What you need... is a man.”

I side-eyed her. “Define man.”

“Someone older. Experienced. Someone who’s going to ruin you - in the best way possible.”

I blinked. “That’s not helpful.”

Zara grinned like the devil. “I have an idea.”

Oh no.

Not again.

“Zara...”

“Shush. Hear me out.” She reached under her bed and pulled out her tablet. “It’s called Club Obsidian.”

I stared at her like she’d just offered to sell my soul.

“What the hell is that?”

She tapped through the site like she’d memorized the whole thing. “It’s private. Discreet. Invitation-only. Mature, dominant men looking for submissive girls - for one night. One room. No names. No pressure. Just pure experience.”

“You want me to hook up with a stranger?”

“Not a stranger. A fantasy.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

She turned the screen to me.

It showed dim red lighting, silhouettes of women in heels, and a sleek black interface that made it look more like a luxury hotel than a pleasure club.

My heart jumped into my throat. It looked tempting.

“Zara, I don’t know…”

“Rae. You want to actually lose it this time, right? No more awkward fumbling. No more emotionally constipated boys.” She sat up straighter, her face suddenly serious.

“This is about you. You take control by surrendering it - just for one night. And you walk away with a story you’ll never forget.”

I bit my lip.

One night. No strings. No commitment. No labels. Just... a secret.

It was insane.

And yet…

“I don’t have an account.”

“You will. I already signed you up.”

My eyes bulged. “You what?!”

“Relax. I used a fake name. Riley Summers. Sounds hot, right?”

“Zara…”

“And look,” she grinned, tapping the screen, “you’ve already been verified.”

“What does that even mean?”

“That means someone saw your picture and liked it.”

I blinked. “You sent them my picture?!”

“Just your face. Relax. I added filters. You look like a freaking goddess.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Do you trust me?”

I swallowed.

Did I?

Yes. Stupidly, completely, and dangerously.

She grabbed my hand. “Then let me make you over.”

~~~~

Ten minutes later, I was in Zara’s bathroom, staring at the stranger in the mirror.

Tiny black skirt. No bra instead a lace crop top that barely covered my chest. Cherry red lipstick. Glossy hair falling over my shoulders. And around my neck…

A black choker with a tiny gold star dangling from the center.

“I look like I’m asking for something forbidden.” I whispered.

Zara leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with pride. “No, babe. You look like a good girl waiting for someone to unleash her.”

I laughed nervously. “What if I mess it up again?”

She walked over, took my face in her hands, and smiled.

“Look hot. Act innocent. Let him ruin you.”

My phone buzzed. I looked down.

ROOM 47 awaits you.

My breath caught in my throat. This was real. I was doing this.

Zara grinned like a proud mama sending her kid off to war.

“Now go,” she whispered. “And don’t come back until you forget Caleb’s name forever.”

I turned back to the mirror one last time.

Lips red. Eyes wide. Heart racing faster than a sports car.

And in that moment… I wasn’t Rae the good girl.

I was Riley Summers.

The girl who was about to be ruined.