chapter 1

​My name is Jamie, and I’m a single mother. That’s my title now, but it doesn't tell the whole truth. The whole truth is messy, and it starts with me, blinded by a selfish passion. I was with Larry, a man who was good, steady, and kind. He was my rock, but I was restless. When the baby’s father came along—he was fire, he was chaos—I burned my whole life down just to be near him

.

​I cheated on Larry and became pregnant. I left him—the good man—for the baby’s father, convinced our reckless love was worth the wreckage. It wasn't. The moment the baby arrived, the father vanished, leaving me alone with the consequences and the crushing reality of what I’d done.

​I tell you this because I want you to know: I’m not a bad person, but I was once a deeply selfish one. I made a monumental mistake, trading genuine love for a cheap thrill, and now my daughter and I are paying for it.

​The bills piled up, and my lack of a degree was a brick wall at every job interview. Swallowing my pride was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, harder than childbirth. I messaged Larry. The man whose heart I crushed.

​"Larry," I typed, staring at the screen for ten minutes before hitting send. "I know I don't deserve to ask you for anything, especially after what I did to you. But I’m desperate. I need a job. I have a baby to feed. If you know of anything, anything at all, please."

​His reply came back fast, cold, and entirely justified. "I can’t believe you have the nerve to ask me. My company only hires college graduates. And even if they didn't, I don't help people who cheat and lie, Jamie."

​I felt the rejection in my bones. I threw my phone across the bed, tears streaming. He was right. I deserved that. I almost gave up looking right there.

​But then, the next morning, he sent another message. Short and crisp.

​"Go to Izakaya Mori. Ask for Mark, the manager. Tell him I sent you. Don’t be late."

​Larry hadn't forgiven me, but he hadn't left me drowning either. I rushed to the restaurant, and Mark, a young man with unnervingly sharp eyes, interviewed me and offered me a waitress position. It was a lifeline.

​I was only an hour into wiping down tables on my first day when Mark called me over.

​"Jamie, special task. Step into the back office. Now."

​I followed him, my gut churning. Mark closed the door behind us, and when he turned, he wasn't smiling. He was leaning against the desk, and he looked dangerous. He pulled out a massive stack of cash—bundles upon bundles of $1,000 pesos bills—and spread them out like a fan.

​"Listen up, Jamie. The waitress job is fine, but this is better. Confidential. One night. Fifty thousand pesos," he offered, his eyes holding mine, daring me to look at the money.

​Fifty thousand pesos. My debt, my rent, my worries—they all evaporated at the sight of that pile. For a split second, I nearly broke. It’s for the baby, the desperate voice whispered. Everyone sins to survive.

​Mark saw the flicker in my eyes and upped the ante. He pulled another fat bundle from his pocket and threw it onto the desk.

​"One hundred thousand pesos. For one night. You need it. Think about that girl waiting for you at home."

​The temptation was overwhelming, a siren song of financial security. But then, I thought of Larry, the hurt on his face, and how much harder I had to fight now just to earn a shred of respect.

​"I’m not here to sell my body. I know I was wrong years ago, and I live with that mistake every single day," I said, my voice rising with conviction. "But I am not a whore. I'm a mother looking for an honest job."

​Mark stepped closer, his voice laced with venom. "You have a daughter, Jamie. You used to be Larry’s girl, then you threw yourself at another man. You ain't new to this."

​That was the final blow. It wasn't just an insult; it was the truth of my past being used to justify my degradation.

​"If this is the job you are offering, I quit," I declared, pushing past him to the door. "I will find a way to feed my baby without selling myself. I am done being that person."

​As my hand reached the doorknob, Mark started to clap. Slow, deliberate applause.

​He walked over, his expression completely changed—it was kind now, even relieved.

​"Congratulations, Jamie. You got the job." He motioned to the money. "That was a test. Larry didn't just recommend you for a job; he insisted we test your integrity. He needed to know if the woman who hurt him still had a moral compass before he could give you a future here. He needed to know that the selfish version of you was truly gone. You passed. Welcome to Izakaya Mori."