The Offer

We pulled up in front of a private club.

The place instantly set off every warning bell I had.

Diego greeted the bouncers at the door like old friends—too comfortable, too familiar—and we walked straight in. The club wasn’t open yet. A few staff members moved around the main floor, adjusting lights, setting tables, and preparing everything for the night ahead.

Young guys and girls dressed as waitstaff drifted through the space, each focused on their tasks like it was just another ordinary shift.

We headed directly to a room in the back.

Diego knocked on the polished wooden door, and a smooth feminine voice invited us in.

Inside, behind an immaculately organized desk, sat a stunning blonde woman. She rose the moment she saw us, and I got a better look at her. She wore a tight dress that clung to every curve, the generous neckline leaving very little to the imagination—deliberate, calculated.

Her body was the kind that made people stare.

“Ágata, this is the guy I told you about,” Diego said, introducing me without much ceremony.

I glanced at him, unsure how to act, the nerves twisting uncomfortably in my chest.

Ágata stepped closer.

Her sweet, intoxicating perfume reached me before she did, wrapping around us like a warm, dangerous promise.

“Damn, he really is beautiful,” Ágata murmured, letting her gaze slide slowly down my body and back up. “But can he actually handle the work?”

Diego just shrugged, unfazed.

“I haven’t explained the details yet, so I don’t know,” he answered, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

This was already too strange for my liking.

“Just say it already, Diego,” I snapped, irritation bleeding into my voice. “So I can decide if I’m walking out or not.”

Before he could speak, Ágata stepped in smoothly.

“At my club, we provide exclusive services,” she said calmly, studying every flicker of my expression. “This isn’t for just anyone. We cater to magnates… men who are used to getting exactly what they desire.”

So far, nothing sounded truly alarming.

“Our discretion is everything,” she continued. “Downstairs, it’s dancing, drinks, the usual club experience.” She paused for a beat. “But if a client wants more—if he takes a liking to one of the waiters—he can invite him up to the VIP area. Some prefer to book directly.”

A quiet unease began to coil in my stomach, even though I still wasn’t sure why.

Ágata watched me a moment longer before delivering the rest.

“The VIP area has its own private bar and private suites. There, the client chooses exactly what he wants…” The pause was brief, but it carried weight. “…including whether he’d like to hire a companion for the night.”

The smile that curved her lips wasn’t casual at all.

“Your friend here,” she said, nodding toward Diego, “works as both a waiter and a luxury companion.”

For a second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

The words were clear, hanging in the air between us, but my brain refused to process them. Companion. Selling my time… maybe even my body.

My heart slammed against my ribs, loud and erratic, as if trying to outrun the meaning I still didn’t want to accept.

I turned to Diego, searching his face for any hint that this was some twisted joke. But there was nothing playful in his expression. Just a calm, steady smile—serious, knowing, and utterly real.

The second the words left her mouth, my legs gave out. I dropped onto the sofa without waiting for an invitation.

Diego settled beside me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

“That’s why I warned you,” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost regretful. “I know you need the money, Stevan. You can think I’m trash for doing this, but it was the only way I could think to help you.”

I didn’t answer right away. The weight of it all pressed hard against my chest. I knew Diego wasn’t trying to be cruel. He was just… being Diego. Still, the thought of going up to the VIP area, of selling something I’d never given to anyone, lodged a thick knot in my throat that refused to budge.

I lifted my gaze to Ágata. She watched me with the calm professionalism of someone who had seen this exact reaction a thousand times before.

“The waiter part…” I started, choosing every word carefully. “I can do that. But going upstairs to the VIP area… I can’t.”

Ágata drew in a slow breath, crossed her arms over her chest, and tilted her head slightly, as if searching for any crack in my resolve.

“Fair enough, kid,” she said, her tone firm—understanding, but completely unsentimental. “I need staff, but only people who are willing to go all the way up there.”

She paused for a moment, her sharp eyes never leaving mine.

“Diego already told me about your mother. The commissions from upstairs… I can guarantee they’d solve your problem in no time.”

She kept explaining, still in that cool, calculated tone, as if she could sense the crack in my resistance and was gently feeding it.

“Down here, the commissions are much more modest,” she said, waving a hand vaguely. “But would you at least be willing to sit and drink with the clients?”

That part I could handle. Serving drinks, smiling, pretending to be comfortable. No problem.

But the rest…

No.

Never.

Because I was still a virgin. Not for lack of desire or opportunity, but because the moment my mother’s illness got worse, I had simply stopped living for myself. Every overtime shift, every sleepless night, and every single cent I saved went toward the treatments her insurance refused to cover.

There hadn’t been room for anything else—for anyone else.

How could I allow myself to have sex, to let go, to lose myself in someone else while she fought alone against that cold hemodialysis machine? It felt like the most selfish thing in the world. Like choosing pleasure would be a betrayal of the one person who had always put my well-being before her own.

So I waited.

I waited for the day I could look her in the eyes and tell her everything was going to be okay, that she didn’t have to suffer anymore. Only then would I let myself feel something without the crushing weight of guilt.

Until that day came, my body wasn’t mine to give. My life wasn’t mine to live.

I swallowed hard, the familiar ache settling deep in my chest as I met Ágata’s expectant gaze. The truth sat heavy on my tongue, but I kept it locked behind my teeth. Some things were too personal to share with a stranger, no matter how understanding her expression tried to be.