Bad Luck

I said goodbye to Diego with a tired wave and headed home.

The apartment was quiet when I arrived. My mother was already sleeping peacefully in her room. I paused in the doorway for a moment, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. The sight brought a quiet wave of relief… and a new, heavier weight pressing down on my ribs.

I took a fast shower, letting the hot water scrub away the smell of alcohol and someone else’s cologne. The second my head hit the pillow, exhaustion pulled me under like a tide.

If every night is like this… maybe I really can handle it.

That was my last thought before everything went dark.

The alarm went off far too soon. Only a handful of hours’ sleep. My body protested, heavy and aching, as I dragged myself out of bed. I stepped straight into another shower, turning the water as hot as I could stand, letting it pound against my shoulders. I wished it could wash away more than just the fatigue—the growing feeling that I was slipping into something that didn’t belong to me.

I silently prayed the day ahead would be kinder than the last.

I was almost certain my boss would be even more unbearable. After all, the company president was arriving tomorrow. I never understood all that nervous energy. I was the one doing nearly all the actual work. And, as usual, I had no doubt he’d shove the presentation onto me at the last minute.

I had breakfast with my mom. She watched me closely, searching for any sign of exhaustion so she could lecture me about slowing down. I avoided her eyes as much as possible. The moment I finished eating, I left.

On the way to the office, I grabbed an energy drink. I needed to stay sharp. This double life, I could already tell, was going to consume me faster than I wanted to admit.

The moment I sat down at my desk, my boss called me in. He shoved a list of tasks across the table without even looking at me. I left his office as quickly as I could, trying to spend the least amount of time in his presence.

I fired off a quick text to Diego—“I’m coming tonight too”—then slipped my phone away. He was probably still asleep.

The day blurred past in a rush of deadlines. I delivered everything on time, no complaints. When the clock finally hit quitting time, I headed straight for the club.

As always, I called my mom before going inside.

“I’m fine, son. Don’t worry about me,” she said, using that gentle voice she always put on to keep me from stressing.

It helped. A little.

In the locker room, I took a quick shower, changed into the uniform, and started helping the other waiters set up the tables. The girls were assigned to the upper area.

The main floor was still empty, but the air already carried that heavy, electric tension that promised a long night.

Just before opening, Ágata called me into her office.

The serious look on her face made my stomach twist.

“Sit down.”

I obeyed. She slid a thick envelope across the desk. When I opened it, my eyes widened. The amount was far more than I’d expected—enough to cover at least two more of my mother’s sessions.

Ágata watched my reaction closely, then folded her hands.

“Stevan, Diego isn’t coming in tonight. He’s not feeling well.” She paused, letting the words settle. “We have a reservation for the VIP area this evening, and the client is one who always requests him. I need you to go up and handle it.”

My stomach clenched hard.

I had been crystal clear from day one: I wouldn’t go upstairs. I wouldn’t do that. Why the hell hadn’t Diego warned me?

Before I could refuse, Ágata continued, her voice far too calm to be comforting.

“I know what you’re thinking. But this client doesn’t request a companion. He just wants a waiter. If he drinks too much, you help him to the room and let him rest. Nothing more.”

She leaned forward slightly.

“You can relax. He won’t harass you. This one comes here to drink and unwind, that’s all.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. Going upstairs. Being alone with a stranger in a private room. I didn’t know this man. I had no idea if I could trust him—or what they really expected from me up there.

“So?” Ágata pressed, tilting her head as she watched me. “Your cut will be much higher, and you need the money. You don’t have to sleep with him. Just serve the drinks, keep him company, and talk if he starts a conversation. Alright?”

I drew in a slow, shaky breath. If those really were the conditions… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.

When I left her office, the club was already open, though still filling up. I moved on autopilot, keeping my mind busy with trays and orders. Until Ágata called me over again.

“The client is waiting.”

My heart shot up into my throat.

“Stay calm and do everything right. You’ll be fine,” she said, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

There was no way to stay calm.

I had no idea what was waiting for me upstairs.

I drew in a deep breath and climbed the stairs. Ágata had already arranged for the snacks he’d ordered to be brought up. In the VIP corridor, security stood at strategic points—some club staff, others clearly private bodyguards.

Diego had told me they were there to prevent anything from going too far. Everything on this floor had to be consensual.

Still, the feeling that I was about to cross a line I’d drawn for myself refused to leave me.

I reached the door, took one last steadying breath, and knocked.

“Come in.”

The voice was firm. Confident. Deep.

I pushed the door open, legs stiff like they no longer belonged to me. He stood with his back to the entrance, broad shoulders perfectly framed by a tailored gray suit that looked like it had been sewn onto his body.

I stopped in front of the sofa, heart pounding so violently I was sure he could hear it.

When he turned around, the air left my lungs.

He was older than me. Elegant. Impeccable. Devastatingly handsome. I was used to dealing with powerful men at the company, but none of them had this kind of presence. There was something about him that commanded attention—like every sharp line of his face and every inch of his body had been deliberately, perfectly sculpted.

His gaze slid over me slowly, deliberately, taking his time. A treacherous heat crawled up my neck and flooded my face. My entire body reacted before my brain could catch up.

Fuck.

It was the only word that came to mind.