Chapter 1: My Escort Service

Sadie's POV

It was impossible not to be impressed by the towering building of the renowned Royalty Hotel. The hotel's stately grandeur seemed to demand adoration, and the name seemed appropriate for such regal architecture.

It's the highest landmark in the whole city, and it could rival those so-called famous hotels outside the country. The buildings around it felt so small next to the hotel. From someone’s point of view, it looked like a ruler standing tall against its people—and this is where I'll be staying for the night.

A spark of excitement tugged at my lips as I realized that tonight could be the night I fulfilled my lifelong dream. But, only moments later, that smile wavered, replaced by the wrenching reality of what I would have to give up to make my dream come true.

"Don't think about it, Sadie. You've been waiting for this day. Remember, you even had a checkup to make sure you're healthy and learned the best time to get pregnant," I thought to myself.

I had done my homework: a week following my cycle was supposed to be the best time to get pregnant. To increase my chances, I even changed my diet—eating berries, leafy greens, and nuts—anything that could give me more chance.

I even asked my colleagues with children for advice on what to do and avoid. But when they heard my questions, they burst out laughing, amazed by the irony—here I was, someone who had never even had a boyfriend, wondering how to boost my chances of becoming pregnant.

I didn't tell them exactly about my plan, because if I did, they might find me crazy. But at this point, I really don't care.

Yes, I never had a boyfriend, and I never planned to have one. I didn't have any plan to be associated with any man—because for me, all men are trash.

Yes, I am seeing someone at the Royalty Hotel, but it is not romantic—or anything like that. It's strictly business… if hiring a man to spend the night with me counts as "business."

And the part about being intimate with a man was frustrating me, since I despised their species. But I had no choice but to do this.

I thought about artificial insemination initially but eventually decided against it. If I was going to go through with this, I wanted to do it the "natural" way—or as natural as my plan could be.

But then again, just like they always say—it was easier said than done. And having intercourse with a man is something I didn't really want to experience.

I was not a lesbian; I had no romantic feelings for women and no desire for intimacy with them. I just couldn't stand men.

I've been a proud member of the No Boyfriend Since Birth club, as I mentioned. Even though I hadn't directly been the victim of male abuse, betrayal, or heartache, I had witnessed the unjust cruelty and suffering men had caused to my kind.

Especially my mother. Just thinking about her made me feel really sad. She had been gone since I was nine, but the pain of losing her never went away, and every memory of her brought a wave of melancholy.

"Enough, Sadie. This is not the time to be emotional; this is the time that you will be a mother," I told myself.

I'm going to stay in the Royalty Hotel for a night to have sex with a man that my friend hired, and that would get me pregnant.

I didn't think of hiring a man at first, but I think it is more convenient and safer if that is the case. Since I'm paying a stranger to have sex with me, then the risk of meeting him again would be almost impossible—and if he did meet me, he wouldn't bother if he got me pregnant as long as I would pay him.

A wicked smile appeared on my lips when I thought of something else—because even if that man did try to look for me, it would be difficult for him to recognize me.

Tonight, I decided to make myself beautiful—wore a bit of makeup and dressed really nicely, which I normally didn't do. But for tonight, I was willing to be the center of attention. And as expected, when I got inside the hotel, all eyes were on me.

Men who were inside the place almost immediately looked at me with either admiration or lust in their eyes. Some of them even came with their girlfriends or spouses—and yet, they couldn't contain their libido when a gorgeous woman was around.

"Typical men," I thought to myself.

I ignored the admiring gazes thrown at me, especially the heated glances from a few of the men in the room. Instead, I strolled proudly to one of the empty couches and sat down.

I took my phone from my purse and dialed Nicky's number.

Nicky has been my best friend since high school, and we are both proud members of the "No Boyfriend Since Birth" and "Men-Haters Anonymous" clubs. Sure, those clubs are entirely made up—but our revulsion for men? Oh, that was as genuine as it gets.

It was Nicky who booked the room for me tonight, and unfortunately, she was so busy with her work that she forgot to tell me which room number she booked.

It was almost two weeks since I last saw her, because she literally stayed in her office this past two weeks because of the case she was handling.

Nicky is a resilient attorney who has dedicated her career to fighting abuse and violence against women and children.

Our experiences are peculiarly similar, with a major difference: the pain she experienced was caused by her biological father, but mine was caused by a parent I've never met. My mother's pain, however, began with him and only worsened with the series of men who took his place.

My parents’ story began like a cliché—a sweet, naive girl swept off her feet by a charming playboy. But the plot took a predictable turn: the moment he found out my mom was pregnant, he vanished, retreating to whatever far-off country he’d come from.

He was just as much of a jerk as the others—bolting the moment responsibilities dared to knock.

I could not help but look at myself in the mirror—the look I despised seeing, not because I looked ugly or anything like that, but the opposite.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—my blue eyes gleaming like small shards of the sky, framed by lashes curled just enough to make them stand out. My hair, a mix of soft brown and sun-kissed blonde, fell in effortless waves just beyond my shoulders, capturing the light with a warm, golden shimmer.

My nose, proud and distinct, added character to my face while also complementing the softness of my features. And my lips, which were large, naturally pink, and indisputably kissable, added an attraction that I couldn't deny, even on my most self-critical days.

Most women would give anything to have my beauty, but looking at my reflection, I'd give it all up in an instant to be anyone other than the person I saw staring back at me.

I’d rather be an ordinary-looking woman, who can live a quiet, simple life than be the focus of men's attention.

Growing up with this face was a nightmare for me as a self-proclaimed man-hater. Boys treated me like I was some excellent prize—fighting over me as if I were a trophy waiting to be claimed—and I despised every moment of it.

"Sorry, the person you are trying to reach is not available at this time."

I was jolted from my thoughts when I heard that message. Just to be sure, I dialed her number again, but after a few rings, got the same message.

"Come on, Nicky, answer the phone," I silently pleaded, noticing the gazes from the people around me.

I walked in confidently, but anxiety swiftly set in. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to assume I was just hanging out and abusing the AC—or worse, scoping out the place for a potential customer!

When Nicky still didn't answer, I had no choice but to send a text message—and just to be sure she knew it was urgent, I typed it in all caps.

Ten minutes had passed, but I still didn't receive any reply from Nicky. It crossed my mind to leave, but I decided against it.

"Hi, Ms. Beautiful, are you alone? Maybe I could—"

"No," I replied almost instantly when a handsome stranger approached me. And when he tried to say more, I raised my right hand to stop him—which, thankfully, worked.

It had been five minutes already, but still no reply from Nicky. I was about to dial her number again when my phone finally made a sound.

"Finally," I thought, relieved, as I saw a text message from Nicky.

"Room 612. He's already waiting. Good luck!" she replied.

She seemed really busy, so I decided not to bother her anymore as I stood up and walked to the elevator.

As the elevator doors shut behind me, my heart pounded like a drum—every beat louder than the last. I knew exactly what was waiting for me in that room, and while I kept telling myself it was all for my dream, a small, stubborn part of me wanted to turn back and leave it all behind.

For crying out loud—I’m still a virgin, and I've never been kissed! So, whoever I'm going to sleep with is one lucky bastard.

"You can do this, Sadie," I kept telling myself over and over again. And before I knew it, I finally reached my designated floor.

As I stepped out of the elevator, I took a deep breath before walking toward the sign for room 612.

I tried not to think too much. I didn't want that small voice to win me over and make me forget about my plan.

I had to do this—and if I backed out, then I could say goodbye to my dream of being a mother.

I'm running out of time, and if I don't take action right away, my chances of ever getting pregnant could be lost forever.

I'm already 23 years old, and if I reach 25, the chances of me being pregnant are impossible. With that in mind, I began walking toward my assigned room with newfound determination.

I walked with full focus until I reached the closed door. Taking several deep breaths to calm my nerves, I reached for the handle—only to find it locked.

"What the hell?!" I thought to myself.

There was nothing else to do, so I knocked on the door—but I would make sure, whoever was inside was going to get a piece of my mind.

I knocked three times before the door cracked open, and I was ready to vent my anger. But the words stuck in my throat the moment I laid eyes on him—the man who was about to not only take my virginity, but also help me have the child I so desperately wanted.

"Nice choice, Nicky," I thought to myself, seeing just how drop-dead gorgeous the male prostitute Nicky had hired really was.