CHAPTER 1

“Be my secret girl. You don’t need to be smart—just beautiful, obedient, and always available when I need you. In return, your grades and living expenses will be secure.”

Renata Assegaf froze, staring at the man in front of her in disbelief. The words sounded far too brazen to be spoken inside a lecturer’s office. Her fingers trembled slightly around the folder she was holding, while the air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing against her lungs until breathing became hot and heavy.

Dominic Sinclair—the young professor everyone knew for his cold demeanor and unapproachable aura—sat casually behind his desk, as if he’d just made an ordinary offer. His face was calm, almost expressionless, but those gray eyes of his held the unmistakable gleam of control.

“Excuse me?” Renata’s voice came out hoarse. “What do you mean… by secret girl?”

“I know your scholarship was revoked,” Dominic said, leaning back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint, unnerving smile. “That’s why you came to see me today, isn’t it? To ask for help.”

He paused briefly, his gaze unwavering. “So here’s what I’m offering. This isn’t about love or feelings. Think of it as a deal. I’ll give you perfect grades and everything you need. In return, you’ll play your role as my mistress properly. Let’s just call it… a sugar baby arrangement. What do you say?”

“Oh my God.” Renata shook her head slowly. “This is insane. I—I can’t do that, sir. It’s completely unethical!”

“To hell with ethics. I’m giving you an instant solution.”

“Sir, I could never—”

“That’s your choice. I’m not forcing you. But think carefully before rejecting something that could save your life.”

Renata’s thoughts spun in chaos. Before she could form another word, Dominic rose from his chair. His steps were calm, measured, until he stopped right in front of her and placed a business card on the desk.

“I know it’s both tempting and shocking,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “But I suggest you think it through before giving your answer. Here—take my card. Call me if you change your mind.”

Renata stared at the card, unmoving. The university logo gleamed faintly above the name Mr. Dominic Sinclair. The world seemed to tilt around her. She couldn’t tell what terrified her more—the indecent proposal itself, or the fact that this man seemed to know everything about her.

When Renata stepped out into the corridor, the air felt colder than usual. Her steps faltered, her mind a jumble of clashing thoughts. Dominic’s words echoed in her head—perfect grades, living expenses, deadline tomorrow.

Her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket. It was her mother, Samantha.

“Mom?”

“Renata… it’s Alea. She’s critical!” Her mother’s voice was frantic. “The doctor said her condition’s getting worse! They need money right away for her treatment!”

“Alea’s back in the hospital?” Renata gasped.

“Yes.”

“Oh God… Alea.”

Renata stopped in the middle of the hallway. The world seemed to lose all color. Students passed by, their voices distant, fading into nothing.

Her scholarship was gone. Her savings drained. Alea was gravely ill. And now—this offer.

Disgusting, yes. But maybe… her only way out.

Her hand slipped into her pocket, clutching the business card tightly. The paper felt unbearably heavy, as if it carried the weight of a sin she hadn’t yet committed. The ticking clock at the end of the corridor grew louder and louder. Tomorrow, at exactly three p.m.—the deadline.

“Please, honey,” her mother’s voice trembled through the phone. “I don’t know who else to borrow from. Please, find a way. I’m waiting for good news.”

“Alright, Mom. I’ll try to find help here.”

“Good. Take care of yourself, and study hard. Maybe your kind boss will lend you the money if you work harder.”

Renata stared at the ceiling, tears pricking her eyes. She didn’t know who to hate more—Dominic, fate, or herself. Because deep down, she knew she’d already lost her part-time job too.

There was no scholarship, no job, no other choice. Only one.

Tomorrow, at three p.m.… her life would never be the same again.

***

Still unsure if she was doing the right thing, Renata stared at her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at her felt like a stranger—pale skin, swollen eyes from crying all night, dark circles hollowing her face. Her usually neat black hair was tied carelessly, adding to the exhaustion etched into her features.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d slept without nightmares—or without the endless beeping of hospital machines echoing in her mind.

Her rented room was tiny—barely three by four meters. The walls were peeling, the air damp and stale, the roof leaking in one corner. Every time it rained, water would drip onto her clothes and books. This was where she had survived, chasing an education and a dream that now felt like a cruel joke.

“Right or wrong… this is the only way,” she whispered.

The words sounded like a confession. She picked up her bag slowly, slipping Dominic’s business card into the inner pocket—like a key that could either open her salvation or destroy her completely.

Her phone buzzed again. A text from her mother lit up the screen:

[The doctor said Alea needs another transfusion. Please, sweetheart… whatever it takes, save your sister.]

Renata stared at the message for a long time, her chest tightening until it hurt. Alea suffered from severe aplastic anemia—a rare disease that left her bone marrow unable to produce blood cells.

Every week, she needed transfusions to stay alive. Her fragile body fainted easily; even the smallest wound could turn deadly. The medical bills were unbearable. Their mother had already sold almost everything left in the house—including their late father’s wedding ring, now sitting in a pawnshop.

Renata drew a shaky breath. Alea’s face flashed in her mind—an eight-year-old girl with pale cheeks and a soft smile, her tiny arms covered in bruises from needles. When Renata opened her eyes again, they were wet but steady.

“For Alea,” she whispered.

She stepped out of her room. The evening sky was overcast, the air heavy with the scent of coming rain. Each step felt heavier than the last, but her mind was fixed on one thing: Alea’s hospital bills—hundreds of millions of rupiah she could never afford. No scholarship. No job. No time.

When she finally reached the faculty building where Dominic usually taught, she stopped. Her breath came fast; her fingers clenched around her bag. She glanced at her watch—three-oh-five. Five minutes late, but she’d come anyway.

From a distance, she saw him standing beside his black car. Dominic glanced at his watch before his cold gray eyes found her.

“So, you came after all,” he said calmly, as if he’d known her choice long before she did.

Renata swallowed hard. “I’ve… thought about it.”

Dominic gave a faint nod, his lips curving into a subtle, knowing smile. Not friendly—victorious.

“In that case,” he said, opening the car door, his tone smooth and unhurried, “let’s discuss the terms somewhere more private.”