Se connecterThe apartment was quiet, save for the hum of the ceiling fan and the distant sound of traffic filtering through the closed window.
Ava lay on her small sofa, staring up at the water stains on the ceiling. It was past midnight, but sleep felt like a foreign concept. Her body was exhausted, heavy with the weight of the day, but her mind was racing a thousand miles an hour, looping through the same thoughts over and over again. Fired. Broke. Desperate. She rolled onto her side, grabbing her phone from the coffee table. The screen lit up, showing a missed call and a text message. Parker. She sighed, running a hand over her face. She loved him, she really did. She dialed his number. It rang twice before he picked up, his voice thick with sleep but laced with worry. “Ava? Where are you? I’ve been calling you since evening.” “I’m home, Parker,” she said, keeping her voice flat, neutral. She didn’t have the energy for drama. “I was just tired. Turned off my phone for a while.” “Tired?” He sat up, she could hear the rustle of sheets. “Tessy told me what happened. She said you got fired. Ava, why didn’t you call me? What the hell happened at that place?” Here it was. The interrogation. “Nothing happened,” she lied, sitting up and hugging her knees to her chest. “I had a disagreement with a client. Hale took his side. That’s it. I lost my job.” “Disagreement?” Parker pressed, sounding frustrated. “What kind of disagreement? Ava, talk to me. You sound… distant. Are you okay? Do you need money? Because I can check if I have…” “No!” she snapped, sharper than she intended. “I don’t need your money, Parker. I just need… I need to figure things out.” “Well, figure it out with me!” he shot back, his temper flaring. “That’s what couples do! But you never tell me anything. You shut me out. You act like I’m just some stranger on the street.” “I’m not shutting you out!” “Yes, you are! You’ve been doing it for weeks. Ever since Grandma got worse. You carry everything alone like I don’t exist. Is it that you don’t trust me? Or is there something else going on?” The accusation stung. Tears pricked her eyes, hot and angry. If only he knew how much she wanted to tell him, to scream about the humiliation, about the man who thought he could buy her, about the slap that felt both like victory and ruin. But what good would it do? Parker was sweet, he was loyal, but he was broke. He worked a dead-end job that barely fed him. He couldn’t pay the bills. He couldn’t save her grandmother. All he could do was worry, and right now, Ava couldn’t afford to worry about anyone else but herself. “There is nothing else,” she said, her voice breaking. “I just… I have a lot on my mind, okay? Please. Just let me be tonight.” “Ava…” “I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said, and she didn’t wait for his reply. She pressed the red button and ended the call. Silence rushed back in. She tossed the phone onto the cushions next to her, burying her face in her hands. She felt guilty. She felt terrible for snapping at him, for lying to him. Her mind drifted back to the spa. To Suite 9. Nico Jordan. He was arrogant. He was disgusting. He was everything she hated in a human being. But now? Now she was thinking about it. The kind of money she needed to save her grandmother was probably what he spent on lunch. She walked back to the sofa and picked up her phone again. Her fingers moved slowly, hesitantly, across the screen. She opened her contacts, scrolled down. There it was, Nico Jordan. She stared at the name. It glowed back at her, innocent and simple. She remembered his voice. Deep. Raspy. Commanding. “Ava, don’t be stupid,” she whispered to herself. “He’ll eat you alive.” Her thumb hovered over the number. Her heart was beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs until they burned. “Just for Mama,” she whispered. “Just this once.” Her finger pressed down. CALL. She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would protect her. The phone rang. Trrr… Trrr… Trrr… Each ring sounded louder than the last, echoing in the small room like a judgment. Then, it stopped. He picked up. Ava held the phone to her ear, her mouth dry, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say. Hello? I’m sorry? I need money? She could hear his breathing on the other end. Controlled. Waiting. He didn’t say "Hello." He didn't say anything. “Hi, it's Ava from the Spa.”“You’ve got some nerve,” Nico said, leaning back in his leather chair.“I know,” Ava’s voice was steady, though he could hear the faint tremor of desperation. “I need to talk business.”“Business? You slapped me. That’s a hell of a way to start a negotiation.”“I’m not negotiating. I’m offering,” she said. “I need money.”She went quiet again. He could hear her breathing. Fast, but trying to hold it together. “So,” Nico said. “The lioness finally comes out to play.”Ava gripped the phone so tight her knuckles turned white. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, closing her eyes. “I’m not here to play games, Mr. Jordan,” she said. Her voice shook slightly, but she forced it to be steady. She refused to beg. “I know what you think of me. I know you think I’m just another girl who changes her mind when the money gets tight.”“Are you?” he asked simply.She flinched as if he had struck her again. “No. I’m not. But I need help. And you’re the only person I know who
The apartment was quiet, save for the hum of the ceiling fan and the distant sound of traffic filtering through the closed window.Ava lay on her small sofa, staring up at the water stains on the ceiling. It was past midnight, but sleep felt like a foreign concept. Her body was exhausted, heavy with the weight of the day, but her mind was racing a thousand miles an hour, looping through the same thoughts over and over again.Fired. Broke. Desperate.She rolled onto her side, grabbing her phone from the coffee table. The screen lit up, showing a missed call and a text message.Parker.She sighed, running a hand over her face. She loved him, she really did. She dialed his number. It rang twice before he picked up, his voice thick with sleep but laced with worry.“Ava? Where are you? I’ve been calling you since evening.”“I’m home, Parker,” she said, keeping her voice flat, neutral. She didn’t have the energy for drama. “I was just tired. Turned off my phone for a while.”“Tired?” He sat
Nico Jordan didn’t sleep that night. He paced the penthouse on the 62nd floor of One57, bare feet on cold marble. From the bar to the window and back, gazing out at Manhattan below like it was mocking him… sirens, horns, that endless drone of people chasing things they’d never catch. It matched the noise in his head. He poured two fingers of Macallan 25. No ice. Held the glass, didn’t drink, he poured it down the sink instead. Pulled his phone from his pocket, opened the camera roll. He looked at a photo of his mother, Sofia…the woman who had taken her own life because his father had treated her like a disposable object. She was smiling, a real smile, tired eyes. The last summer she laughed without forcing it. Before his father started staying out. Before the late-night calls, the hotel receipts in the trash… Rebecca loft, two names. His father’s. And hers. A call girl from a client's dinner. The man hadn’t even lied about it, moved her in while Sofia was still scraping together co
The hallway blurred as Ava stormed through it, her chest heaving. Her hands were still shaking, not from fear, but from the raw, burning adrenaline of what had just happened. The sound of that slap echoed in her ears…satisfying, and terrifying.She didn’t stop walking until she reached the manager’s office. The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open hard, letting it bang against the wall.Hale looked up from his desk, his greasy face calm, almost bored. He didn’t even blink at her fury. He just tapped his pen against the screen of his tablet, looking at her like she was a child throwing a tantrum.“Done already?” he asked, his voice smooth as oil. “I thought you’d be at least another hour. Did he not like your technique, Ava?”Ava walked up to the desk, slamming her hands down on the surface. The sound made him finally look up properly.“You set me up,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “You knew exactly what he wanted. You told him I was… accommodating.”Hale leaned back
The Velvet Room Spa was a members-only wellness club, money flows like water here and morality was often left at the gold-leafed doors.Ava Williams had been hired three weeks ago. She was a specialist—deep tissue, sports, prenatal. She was the best they had, and she kept her head down. She knew the whispers; she knew some therapists offered "extras" for a price that could cover a month’s rent. But Ava didn’t. Her pride was the only thing she had left that wasn't for sale.Her phone buzzed as she walked the dim, incense-scented hallway toward the manager's office. She slipped it out and answered. “Girl, are you still at that fancy torture chamber?” Tessy’s voice came through, a mix of humor and genuine worry. “It’s almost eleven. You said you’d be off by ten.”Ava leaned against the cool marble wall. “One last client. VIP suite. Eighty minutes of deep tissue. It’s a lot of money, Tess.”Tessy snorted. “VIP suite? That’s code for ‘rich guy who wants a happy ending.’ You sure you're ok







