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“Who’s going to be tonight’s lucky b*st*rd?”
The thought barely lasted a second before the pounding bass swallowed it, vibrating through the floor and up Ysa Sandoval’s heels. She stood beneath the club’s flashing lights, perfectly at home in a world of smoke, alcohol, and wandering hands. She wasn’t some innocent girl who had stumbled into this life. Ysa was the club’s prized girl—the one men waited for, the one they were willing to pay more for. A college dropout forced to leave school because of her father’s condition, she had turned her beauty into a livelihood. Tonight, as always, she was ready to play the role everyone paid to see. The Prostitute Princess. She’d come with friends, but they were gone lost in the crush, just another blur. She didn’t bother looking. Heat coiled low and tight in her belly, warm and thick, turning every thought soft and slow. She knew this feeling. She knew exactly what it meant. She stepped onto the dance floor and let her body move, slow, deliberate, every sway and roll practiced to make men burn. Hands reached for her right away—rough, eager, groping at her hips, her waist, brushing too close. She let them. She knew how to play this game. But then she looked up. And she a stranger. She had never met him. Never seen him before. But he sat there at the bar, watching her moves. His eyes were dark and it was locked on her like he was stripping her naked right there. He didn’t glance away. Didn’t even blink. He looked at her like he knew exactly what she was, like he knew she sold herself, like he could taste every dirty, sweet thing she was capable of before she even stepped close. It wasn’t just looking. It was eating her alive. He traced every curve with his gaze, from her lips, her neck, the swell of her chest, the way her hips rolled slow and easy. And she felt it, hot, sharp, straight through the drink and the noise and the crowd. She felt seen. Known. Craved in a way that made her skin prickle and her pulse throb between her legs. She didn’t know his name. But she didn't give a d*mn. She only knew that look, hungry, certain, rich and dangerous and ready to pay whatever she asked. She turned away from the hands grabbing at her, walked straight through the crowd, and headed right for him. She knew exactly what this was. And tonight, she was ready to give him everything he wanted. What had been a body moving wild and free to the music now went still as a statue. She stood frozen, watching him watch her, his gaze tracing every curve, every dip, every soft line of her body like he was memorizing every inch. She grinned to herself. Possible client. She walked toward him slow, and he never once looked away. His eyes stayed locked on her, drinking in every step like he was already tasting her. “You’ve been staring at me this whole time,” she said. “Like there’s something hard and throbbing straining right against your clothes, aching to get out. Does it ache to f*ck me? Is that really what you’ve been craving this whole time?” He grinned back. “I do.” Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. “Simple. Pay five thousand. That’s my price. If you want me… you pay five thousand. Take it or leave it.” He laughed, cold, like she’d said something ridiculous. “You think you can put a price on this?” His voice was deep, cutting right through her. “You think you can count what you’re worth? You think this is just money? Just a transaction?” He shook his head, laughing sharp and bitter. “No. That’s not how this works. I don’t buy women. I don’t rent nights. And five thousand? That’s nothing.” She bit her lip, heat rising in her cheeks. Shame twisted tight in her chest, but she’d done this too many times to back down. She needed this, needed the money for her father’s medicine, for his check-ups. “I know… but that’s my price. Just five thousand. That’s all I ask. Please.” He studied her from head to toe, then reached for his phone. “Fine. If that’s what you need to say yes… I’ll give it to you. But you’re wrong about how much you’re worth.” He held it out. “Give me your bank details. Account number. Anything. I’ll send it right now.” Her hands shook as she fumbled for her phone, squinting at the screen through the haze. She read out the numbers slow and slurred. He typed fast, checked once, tapped send. Ten seconds later, her phone buzzed. Then again. It wasn’t five thousand. It was twenty-five thousand. Five times what she’d asked. Her breath caught hard. That was enough for two months of her father’s medicine and every checkup he needed. “This is too much…” Her lips trembled. “I only asked for five thousand.” He leaned forward. “You asked for five thousand. I gave you five times that. Because five thousand is nothing compared to what I want. Nothing compared to how you make me feel right now. The money’s yours. Spend it on whatever you want. Keep it. Burn it. I don’t care.” He reached out, curling warm, firm fingers around her jaw. “All I want now… is this night. I want you to make me burn. I want you to make me so hot I can’t think of anything else. And I want you to satisfy me… completely. Until we’re both wrecked.” She melted right there, knees turning soft and weak. He wasn’t like the others. No one had ever looked at her like this, like she was something precious and something to ruin all at once. But she had no choice… and god help her, she was already burning for it. “Yes… yes… anything. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll make you feel so good. I promise.” She pressed her hands to her chest, looking up at him wide-eyed and eager, like a good little girl ready to do exactly as told. “Just take me away from here. Please… please take me now.” He stood up in one smooth motion, wrapping an arm tight around her waist to hold her close. “Then let’s go. Beg all you want… I’m already yours. And you’re already mine. Now show me exactly what you’re worth.” He took her straight to a hotel nearby. Her heart raced fast as they walked, she felt nervous, and already wet and aching just from his touch. The second the door clicked shut, he turned on her. She wanted to step back, to say wait… but he didn’t care. He shoved her hard back against the bed and crashed his mouth to hers, it was hot, rough, burning, like he’d been starving for her all night. His tongue pushed deep, devouring every gasp, every shaky little sound she made. She felt his hand slide hot and heavy up her thigh, pushing between her legs, cupping her right over where she was already soaked. He pulled her hips flush against him so she could feel how hard he was, throbbing thick and solid through his clothes. “F*ck, you’re already wet for me,” he growled against her lips, fingers pressing deeper, making her jerk and whimper loud. “F*ck*ng dripping wet… you greedy little sl*t.” He bit her lip hard until she moaned, then pulled back just enough to speak. “I want your mouth on my c*ck... now. S*ck me till I lose my f*ck*ng mind. And tell me how good it feels. Don’t hold back.” Ysa dropped to her knees like she’d been told. She knew what she was, just something to use. Her fingers shook as she fumbled with his belt, yanking his zipper down fast. She shoved his pants and briefs out of the way… and her breath died in her throat. So big.The sharp crack of impact echoed through Lourd Grayson’s study.His fist had struck the edge of his desk with enough force to send a crystal paperweight crashing to the floor. It shattered into several pieces, scattering across the carpet. A stack of documents slid off the desk, followed by a pen that rolled beneath the cabinet.“Fucking hell!”He kicked the fallen chair out of his way and turned toward the large window. His reflection stared back at him, his expression twisted with rage.Hayes Gabriel Dela Cruz Grayson.The new President of Grayson Holdings.The name alone made his blood boil.Lourd had spent years preparing for that position. Years of handling negotiations, managing investments, building relationships with powerful people, and proving that he could take responsibility for the family's business empire. He had done everything expected of him. He had a wife, two children, an established reputation, and a record that should have made him the obvious choice.He had the
The event had finally come to an end, and Hayes and Ysa were on their way back to the penthouse.Ysa sat beside him in the back seat, still holding the small velvet box that had contained the Burmese ruby necklace. She had already worn the necklace throughout the final part of the celebration, but she had taken it off before leaving, worried that she might accidentally damage it. Now, she kept opening the box to look at it again.Hayes noticed her doing it for the third time."Are you planning to stare at that necklace all night?" he asked, glancing at her from beside him.Ysa looked up, caught in the act. "Can you blame me?"He gave a small laugh. "Apparently not."She looked down at the ruby again, carefully running her thumb along the edge of the velvet box. "I still can't believe Madame Elora gave this to me.""Grandmother," Hayes corrected, raising an eyebrow.Ysa glanced at him, her eyebrows lifting in confusion. "What?""She told you to call her grandmother," he reminded her, a
The room became lively again as the host returned to the stage with a stack of papers in his hand. He smiled at the crowd. The evening had already taken a few turns that nobody seemed to expect. Hayes had walked straight past Vivienne to get Ysa, Elora had welcomed her in front of everyone, and now the whole room seemed to be looking at Ysa differently.Then came the gifts.It was an old Grayson tradition, and everyone in the room knew what it meant. Gifts from Elora were never just gifts. They showed who she favored, who she welcomed, and sometimes, without anyone having to say it, where someone stood in the family. Ysa stood beside Hayes, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she tried to calm the nervous flutter in her chest. She still had no idea what was about to happen. She had come to the celebration with almost nothing to her name except the dress she had been given, the place she had been allowed to stand, and a secret she could not tell anyone. Now she was standing in the
Hayes brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. The simple gesture made her go still. The noise from the ballroom seemed farther away for a second, replaced by the warmth of his hand against her cheek.“She liked you because you were yourself.” His thumb lingered near her cheek for another second before his hand slowly lowered.Ysa’s smile faded. She looked down, suddenly unsure of what to do with the warmth that had settled in her chest. If he only knew how much of myself I had hidden from him. Her fingers curled together in front of her, and she swallowed before forcing herself to look at him again.“You're simple and honest.” Hayes studied her face, his expression calm as he added, “She said that was one of the things she liked about you.”Ysa’s throat tightened. She glanced toward the ballroom, then back at him. “I’m not always.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.Hayes’s expression changed immediately. His eyebrows drew together
“Come with me,” Hayes said quietly.After his grandmother stepped down from the stage to meet some of her old friends and longtime business associates she had not seen in years, Hayes reached for Ysa’s hand and gently pulled her along with him. He did not let go as they moved through the ballroom, his fingers laced through hers, but Ysa noticed that something about his touch had changed. Earlier, he had held her like he wanted everyone to know she was his. Now his grip was careful and controlled, almost as if he had started thinking too much about what they really were beneath the eyes of everyone watching them.What now? Ysa wondered as she glanced at him. Hayes kept his eyes ahead, acknowledging guests who greeted him while they passed. Several people who had barely looked at Ysa earlier were now smiling at her, some even nodding politely as if Elora's approval had suddenly changed her position in the room. Ysa tried to return their smiles, but her chest still felt tight. So Elora
His hand closed around hers, and for a heartbeat Ysa could not move. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, half-convinced she had misunderstood, that he would turn any second now and correct himself. But he did not turn. He just squeezed her fingers gently, his gaze soft and sure, and pulled her up from the chair until she was standing beside him, trembling, her dress settling around her, her heart hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat. “Walk with me,” he murmured, low enough only she heard. “Don’t look at anyone but me. Just walk.” He kept hold of her hand as they moved forward, and the crowd slowly made room for them. At first, people only stared. Then came the murmurs, one after another, until a few hands started clapping. The applause was nothing like the reaction Vivienne had received. That had been immediate and confident. This was slower, uncertain, as if everyone needed a second to understand what they were seeing. Ysa swallowed hard. Oh God. She could feel people







