CHAPTER 1

Mandy

Five years later…

The loud and continuous ringing of my phone woke me up from my deep sleep.

A grunt comes out of my mouth as I reach for my phone that I know is where I always put it before sleeping—right beside my pillow.

I still did not want to open my eyes. I want to go back to sleep. But since I can't turn off the alarm on my phone without looking at it, and also because it really is time for me to wake up, I am forced to open my eyes to turn off the damn alarm.

God, will a time come when I don't have to use the darn alarm anymore? Will a time come when I don't have to worry about waking up late anymore? Where I don't have to go to that shitty job of mine anymore?

But as quickly as my brain raises those questions, it is also so quick in providing an answer: no.

I shake my head while laughing at my own stupidity. “Of course, that's the only answer. Unless I become an alpha…” I cut my own sentence, then shake my head again.

Nope. Not going to go there. Not anymore. I am done wishing and hoping for something that is impossible. Reality is what I always have to face now. And this, this life, is my reality, which means I have to get the fuck off of my bed.

I put my phone back to where it was, then with another grunt, I force myself again to get up from my bed. But it is not easy. The moment my feet land on the floor and I try to stand up, I hiss both in pain and in discomfort, prompting me to sit back down.

“Fuck! I should have asked those bastards to triple their tips.“

I want to continue sitting down, even thinking of giving Amanda a call and telling her that I can't go to work because I am not feeling well, but reality quickly slaps me in the face again as my gaze accidentally lands on the calendar hanging on the wall across from me, where the due date of my rent has been circled, as if it is telling me that I do not have the liberty to choose between work and rest.

And so, with my newfound motivation, I get up from the bed again, and thankfully, this time, I am able to endure the pain and discomfort.

I slowly make my way to the bathroom. And once I am fully undressed, I cannot help but take a look at myself in the mirror. But it is only for a little while as disgust immediately fills me.

Unlike any other bosses, Victor is very keen on making sure that the clients won't hurt any of us, omegas, working in the club. The clients can have sex with us as much as they want, but they are not and are never allowed to hurt us and leave scars and bruises on our skins. We are all products to Victor, ones that he needed to sell. And in order for him to be able to sell us well, he needs us to be flawless and to look appealing. And surely, having scars and bruises does not look appealing at all to his high-end clients.

So, when I say I am disgusted, I am not pertaining to my physical appearance. Because I still quite look the same, except that I looked older, of course. I don't even look like I am working in a sex club. The disgust I am feeling is more in the mental aspect. Because whenever I see myself in the mirror, I am always reminded of how dirty I have become. I am always reminded of how many alphas have tasted and had been inside my body—my body, which I used to treasure so much. I may not look like I am wrecked and destroyed, but deep inside, I am. And I don't know if I can still fix myself.

I am slowly tearing up, and my throat has become constricted. I am so close to sobbing, so before that happens, I need to compose myself already. What's the point of crying anyway? It's not like anything will change if I cry. What's done is done. And honestly, even if I can turn back the time and be given the chance to change anything in my past, I will still be doing the same. I will still go and do anything to meet Victor. I will still ask him to let me work in his club.

Although my brother, Theo, is now dead, I was still given three years to be with him despite the doctor telling me that even if I had the right finances, Theo still only had one year to live. And that wouldn't be possible if I had not forgotten about my pride and had not sold my dignity. If I had not asked Victor and if I had not worked at the club, Theo would have already left me sooner without me being able to do anything but just break down and cry.

The constricting of my throat worsens. The memories of my little brother will never not make me gloomy and emotional. And being gloomy and emotional is the last thing that I have to be before going to work. What I need is strength and the determination to continue doing this and to continue living this fucked-up life of mine. Because hell, I can't be giving up on life, no matter how fucked up it is, when my brother had wanted to live so bad but was not given the chance to. It's up to me now to live for him.

After what seems like forever, I finally stop staring at myself in the mirror to start showering, making sure I am clean in every nook and cranny of my body. Once I am done showering and getting dressed and have a cup of milk, as well as making sure that I already have everything that I need in my bag—my scent blockers, my heat suppressants because my heat is irregular and I will never know when it comes, clothes that I will be wearing once I reach the club, and so many other personal things, but mostly for my hygiene—I grab the key to my single apartment, get out of the apartment, and then head straight to the train station.

When I arrive at the club, everyone is already busy with their own jobs and some other things since we're close to opening. We only have half an hour to prepare.

Almost everyone greeted me as I made my way to the dressing room, except for three people; one even blocked the door for me. And it's none other than Angela, the newest addition to this club, who is now favored by many of our loyal clients because of her beauty.

“Trent has booked me for the entire week,” Angela says with arrogance written all over her face.

“Okay,” was the only bored reply she got from me, and Angela, as always, did not like it.

I swear I saw her expression change from being arrogant to angry. But she is quick enough to change it back and put on her arrogant look again, wanting to give me the impression that she is not bothered by how I am not bothered with what she said, and that makes me want to roll my eyes.

What makes her think I will easily believe the facade she's putting on? I may be poor, but I am not dumb.

“Are you sure you're okay with it? I mean, you used to be his favorite. He used to choose you, like always, for years, right? I'm sure this change is hurting you, and I don't want that, Mandy. As someone who has been working here earlier than me, I have huge respect for you, which is why I am informing you first about Trent's decision. I just want to make sure that this won't cause a rift between us.“

A scoff comes out of my mouth, making Angela raise one of her brows for a second. I smiled at her. “Don't worry, Angela. I am not hurt nor feel anything bad. Actually, I don't even feel anything at all. Because why would I be? It's not like I am in love with Trent or anything. He's just a cash cow to me. And as you said, he had been my loyal customer for years, which means I already got too much from him, and by that I mean money and the sex.” I then put on a disappointed look. “And to be honest, sex with him has already gotten boring. It isn't as good and as exciting as it was before. But of course, I can't say no to him, you know? He's a client, after all. So I was actually relieved that he finally stopped obsessing over me because that way, I did not have to think of ways on how to reject him anymore.“

Angela tries to speak, but I did not allow her. She is not even able to fully open her mouth yet when I speak again and ask her, “How about you? Are you alright with this?“ Angela's nose is flaring. It seems that she can already tell that the next words I am about to say are something that she will dislike. “I mean, are you alright with taking my leftover? With someone I've already gotten fed up with?“

Angela's eyes widen. I can tell that she did not expect me to say that, and it's because in all the times that she had tried to insult me—directly and indirectly—and riled me up, I never bothered to answer her and mostly just ignored her because I did not want to stoop down to her level. But I am getting fed up, and she's already getting on my nerves. She's still new, and yet she's already acting like a prima donna. I did not even act like her when I was still new in this job, when I was younger and still fresh, and was still being favored by many clients. Like, who does she think she is? Being the most famous sex worker in this club does not make her better than me or anyone in this club.

Angela's eyes become fierce, looking at me as if she wants to kill me. And this time, she's not able to change her expression anymore and put on a facade. She's too angry to do that again, and I love it—I love the reaction that I am able to get from her. It is so satisfying to see her getting riled up by me, something that she was not able to do to me.

Angela takes a step closer to me, looking so ready to hit me. And I really hope she will. That way, I will finally have the chance to let out my anger on her that I have been keeping for so long now. I just need her to make the first hit, then I'll gladly give it back to her twofold.

But then…

“Mandy.“

Angela stops in her tracks, while I immediately look behind me, where the voice of Amanda, calling my name, came from.

“Victor's office. Now.“ Then Amanda left immediately, obviously expecting me to follow her.

Disappointment fills me up as I look at Angela again. Just when I thought I was finally about to have my revenge for all the insults she had been hurling at me.

Well, I guess we can do it next time. That is if I am still going to be here. Because being called to Victor's office could only mean one possible thing: I am going to get fired.

And with how I have become the most unfavored omega after years of working here in the club, getting fired will be inevitable. But I am hoping that's not the case this time. Because as much as I detest this job, I still don't want to lose it. I need to live.