Chapter 4: Gone Before Dawn

Chapter 4: Gone Before Dawn

The room was silent, cloaked in shadows, save for the faint thrum of bass outside the walls. Theo lay still, his breathing deep and even—finally asleep.

Janine turned her head slowly. His arm had slackened, no longer caging her in. The warmth of his body still lingered on her skin, but she didn’t dare think about it too long. She moved gently, barely breathing, and slid out from under his arm.

Her thighs screamed in protest, her hips aching, every part of her body sore and raw. But she bit her lip and stayed quiet.

She grabbed her dress from the floor, slipping it on slowly, quietly. No shoes—just her bare feet against the cold floor as she walked to the door and turned the handle.

It gave way with a soft click.

She didn’t look back.

Outside the room, the hallway was dimly lit. Janine moved quickly, silently, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mask was long gone, her lipstick smeared, hair a mess, but no one stopped her. No one questioned a woman leaving a private room in the early morning hours.

Once outside the club, the cold morning air hit her like a slap.

She paused on the sidewalk and let out a shaky breath, finally letting herself feel it—the ache, the shame, the confusing mess inside her chest. Something felt torn, like she’d left a piece of herself behind in that room. And not just physically.

But she pushed the thought aside.

She pulled out her phone with trembling fingers and checked her bank account. It took a moment to load.

When the number popped up, her eyes widened.

₱100,000.

Her breath caught in her throat. She stared, disbelieving.

That wasn’t what Tina promised her. It was supposed to be ₱20,000 for one night—quick money for a desperate woman. But this… this was five times that.

She laughed. It was hollow, short, almost bitter.

“At least half my problems are covered,” she whispered to herself. “Just one night… and that’s it.”

She hailed a cab and texted Tina on the way to the hospital.

Janine: I’m done. I quit.

Tina replied almost immediately.

Tina: What? Why? You barely started.

Janine: It’s not for me.

There was a pause.

Tina: Did something happen?

Janine stared at the screen for a long moment before replying.

Janine: Nothing happened. I’m fine. It’s just… not my thing.

She pocketed her phone and looked out the window. The buildings blurred past. Her body ached, her soul even more, but there was no turning back.

She was going to see her mother. She had money now. She had to focus on what mattered—(why) she’d done it. Not who she’d done it with.

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Back at the club, Theo stirred.

The room was quiet, too quiet. He reached out with one hand, expecting to feel soft skin and warmth beside him. But the bed was empty.

His eyes snapped open.

He sat up, blinking in the dim light. The sheets were rumpled, the scent of sex still heavy in the air. But she was gone.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, scanning the room. He checked the bathroom, the corners, even under the edge of the curtain, as if she might still be hiding.

Nothing.

She was really gone.

A low chuckle escaped him, humorless.

“Smart girl,” he muttered. “Didn’t even wait for me to open my eyes.”

He didn’t know how to feel. Relieved, maybe. Disappointed? He wasn’t sure. One part of him was glad—he wouldn’t have to deal with a clinger, a woman who tried to turn one night into a promise.

But another part of him, the same one that couldn’t stop thinking about the way she shook beneath him, the quiet way she cried, the look in her eyes… that part wasn’t satisfied.

Theo got dressed, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt with practiced ease. His movements were sharp, almost irritated. He didn’t like things left hanging—and this felt unfinished.

Still, he told himself it was for the best.

She did her job. He paid her—more than she deserved. She made no fuss, asked for nothing. That was rare.

“Good,” he muttered, heading out.

He drove back to his penthouse, a sleek glass structure perched high above the city. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and downed half of it in one go, the bitter taste grounding him.

He tried to shake her off—whoever she was. Just a masked girl from the club. Anonymous. Transactional. Simple.

So why the hell was he still thinking about her?

By the time he showered and dressed for work, he still couldn’t stop the nagging thought in his head.

He hadn’t even see her face.

And that irritated him more than he cared to admit.

He left his penthouse and drove to his company headquarters, slipping into the skin of the CEO like armor. Sharp suit. Cold demeanor. Eyes that missed nothing.

He had a meeting in ten minutes.

But his mind?

Still back in that room.

Still wondering why a virgin would sell herself so quietly, so desperately… and disappear without a word.