Chapter 2

I spent three days debating, but finally, I picked up the phone and called him.

It wasn't about his good looks. It was all about the money. I was scared to death of being broke.

I grew up in a small town down south. My dad died when I was little. My mom worked at a clothing factory, earning 1 thousand dollars a month. She gave everything she had to get me through high school.

I got student loans for college tuition. And for living expenses, I had to hustle for every penny.

In my freshman year, I kept my daily food budget under 5 bucks. Breakfast was a piece of bread and a cup of milk. Lunch was the cheapest pasta from the cafeteria. And dinner was a ciabatta with jam.

One time, I passed out on the subway due to low blood sugar. Someone helped me to a bench, and a lady nearby handed me a chocolate bar. My hands were shaking like crazy when I took it.

It wasn't because I was touched. It was because I was starving.

The kind of hunger twisted my stomach, made my vision go black, and left me drenched in cold sweat. I would never forget that feeling for as long as I live.

So, when Andrew dangled me with 20 thousand dollars a month and a place in one of his apartments, I actually didn't think twice, although I'd have to drop everything whenever he called.

To earn 20 thousand dollars, my mom had to grind away at that factory for nearly two years.

I knew what this was. It was being a sugar baby. Those words stung, grating on my ears. It felt like getting slapped right across the face.

But between getting slapped and going hungry, I'd take the slap any day. At least a slap wouldn't leave me fainting from hunger in the subway station.

But I made myself a deal: I wouldn't blow a single cent of this money.

20 thousand dollars a month, plus the occasional little bonus Andrew threw my way, every bit went straight into savings. I didn't spend a dime.

I was dead set on saving up enough to study abroad and get a fresh start. This was the only shot I had at getting out.

So, for the past three years, I'd lived with a razor-sharp sense of reality.

Andrew saw me as the ideal sugar baby: quiet, obedient, always there when he needed me, never making waves, never fighting for anything.

He'd praise me for being so mature, saying life with me was comfortable and effortless.

What Andrew didn't know was that, every time he brought me to those business events, I was quietly observing and learning.

I'd slip into the dresses he bought, hold onto his arm, and greet everyone with a flawless smile.

But my attention was never really on him. I was listening to how the bosses discussed deals, made small talk, and negotiated beneath those polite smiles.

I learned how the executives gave their reports, fought for resources in meetings, and handled the maze of complicated relationships all around them.

I made sure to memorize who sat where at every event, who was who and their backstory, and every offhand comment that was loaded with meaning.

*****

Three years in, my bank account kept getting fatter, and so did my mind. All those skills, tricks, and secrets I picked up were piling up, too.

The cash gave me the guts to walk away whenever I wanted, and everything I learned gave me the power to stick around if I chose.

And by "stick around," I didn't mean hanging onto Andrew. I meant staying in this game, in this circle of movers and shakers.

One thing I was sure of: someday, I'd come back with a whole new identity.

What I didn't expect was for that day to come so much sooner than I ever imagined.

Three days after I handed over the car keys, Andrew's mom, Julia Langley, came to me.

I was caught off guard, because I figured Andrew would wait until right before his wedding to Charlotte Sinclair before he thought about cutting me loose. But his mom was in a hurry.

We met in a private room of a high-end coffeehouse.

Julia was in her early fifties, but she looked barely forty. She was immaculately groomed, every gesture radiating the refined confidence of someone born into privilege.

She sat across from me, a pot of coffee between us. With effortless grace, she poured me a cup and slid it over. "Ms. Hart, let's not beat around the bush. I know you're Andrew's little plaything."

I took a sip of coffee, staying silent.

She seemed pleased by my silence. She pulled a check from her Hermès bag and slid it across the table. "Here's 2 million dollars. I know you've been with Andrew for three years. It's the compensation.

"I know your family's struggling. This 2 million dollars should be more than enough for you and your mom to live well for the rest of your lives."

She paused, took a sip of coffee, then continued, "Andrew's getting engaged to Charlotte next month. You know the Sinclair family, right? They're like us, same status.

"Those two grew up together, always had a strong bond. Charlotte's got everything: family, manners, education. She graduated from a top university in Enginoria. She and Andrew are a perfect match."

She fixed her eyes on me, with that subtle, almost cold look, like she was appraising something that had served its purpose and was about to be tossed, checking if there was any value left.

She added, "Ms. Hart, you're a smart woman. Take the money and leave with your head held high. It's best for everyone."

I set my cup down, picked up the check, and studied it closely.

I was still 2 million dollars away from my target balance. But with the money Julia gave me, I had it all. No, actually, I had more than enough.