Chapter 1

I was bound to Evan Zimmerman for a year and a half. I cared for him during his drunken episodes and became his pretty plus-one whenever he attended business meetings. I did everything for him and waited on him hand and foot. I was at his beck and call. And yet, he grew tired of me anyway. I pulled myself together after that and prepared for a strong comeback, only for Evan to ask me if I would date him again—not as a sugar baby, but as his girlfriend. … I was a model—not the proper sort, of course. The details of my real job were far from savory. Everyone in the industry had a sponsor and moved on from one to the next throughout our careers. I was no exception, and my current sponsor was Evan Zimmerman. It had been about a year since I first met Evan, which meant our contract was ending in less than half a month. It was an unspoken rule in the industry to talk to our sponsors about whether we would renew the contract or go our separate ways. Our jobs were heavily reliant on youth and beauty, both of which were so fickle that it was hard to find new sponsors. Should my sponsor decide not to renew his contract with me, I had to look for a new one before the contract ended. If I had to be honest, I actually quite liked having Evan as a sponsor. I'd kick my feet up in the air if he told me he wanted to renew our contract. Unfortunately, I understood Evan well enough to know better than to be optimistic. He was far too attractive. There would always be a roster of shiny, new toys to fawn over men who had attained a certain level of wealth and status. Even if I were to pull out all the tricks I knew, there were only so many movements the human anatomy could allow. Besides, Evan and I had tried everything in bed. I doubted I could surprise or impress him at this point. I stayed in a hillside villa that was built on a five-thousand-square-foot land. Evan had put me up in this luxurious abode, as he did with his former sugar babies. I had no idea how many of them had preceded me. The thought that I'd be moving out of this spacious villa in half a month distressed me. It was almost midnight when the housekeeper woke me up. She told me Evan had returned, which was my cue to get up and tend to his needs. Our jobs weren't as easy as they seemed. We didn't get paid just for lying on our backs and spreading our legs. We had to be quick-witted, not to mention lucky. A bad sponsor could ruin your life and career. In the three years since I joined the industry, I'd seen a few of my so-called "co-workers" saddled with sponsors who went through sugar babies faster than they changed clothes. I was lucky enough to have a generous sponsor like Evan. He was perfect save for his wild tendencies in bed. After throwing on my dressing gown, I hurried downstairs to find Evan sprawled atop the couch. His eyes were heavy-lidded, and he reeked of alcohol. The housekeeper handed me a cup of honey ginger tea. I took it and pressed the edge of the cup to Evan's lips, softly prompting, "Take a sip, Mr. Zimmer." Evan's last name was Zimmerman, but he hated being addressed as "Mr. Zimmerman". It was a strange pet peeve. I was grateful to have misheard his name when we first met and believed his last name was "Zimmer" instead. My blunder got his attention and worked out in my favor. According to Evan, he'd had to resist punching those who unwittingly addressed him as "Mr. Zimmerman" during their first meetings. He took two sips of the honey ginger tea and frowned. I quickly put the cup down. Ignoring the overpowering fumes of alcohol mixed with his cologne, I kept my face straight as I took off his clothes and socks. I fetched a basin of hot water and slowly wiped him down. He was conscious enough to lift his head and limbs when I went over them with the damp cloth. "How long have you been with me, Lena?" Evan asked. "Almost a year, Mr. Zimmer," I replied. He nodded. "The contract's ending soon, then." My heart sank. Were we discussing the contract renewal now? If he chose to terminate the contract for good, I wondered how much severance fee I could get in turn. Knowing Evan's generosity, I wouldn't have to work as a sugar baby anymore if he gave me a handsome amount. Unfortunately, he fell silent after he remarked on the contract. I waited patiently beside him, only to hear his soft, steady breathing that indicated he'd fallen asleep. The next day, my friend told me to tag along to the beauty parlor. Before I turned 18, I'd never dreamt of making such frequent trips to the beauty parlor. Alas, being an escort was costly. We were paid generously for our work, but we were high-maintenance too. With the slew of pretty young things joining the industry, a successful career as an escort boiled down to two things: technique and beauty. I had to look polished from head to toe. My visits to the parlor could cost me anything between four figures to six, depending on the beauty treatment of the day. My last treatment package had cost me 200 thousand dollars. I could scarcely breathe as I swiped my card. But in all fairness, it was money well spent. I remembered how quickly Evan had lost control that night, which was rare. The man had stunning endurance, after all. I could pull out every trick I knew and he'd still find a way to hold himself back. At the beauty parlor, my friend asked me what my plans were after Evan. He told me he was recently acquainted with a sponsor from Sidaria. The sponsor was a decent person, and my friend asked if I was interested in joining him for their next meeting. I quickly turned him down. Although the chances of Evan renewing our contract were slim, the contract was still ongoing. He'd kill me if he knew I was hunting for a new sponsor behind his back. "I wonder which lucky little slice will become Evan's next sponsor," my friend mused enviously. "Your guess is as good as mine," I said casually. Evan hated it when others speculated on his intentions, but it was in our nature as escorts to pry into others' preferences. I'd been with Evan for nearly a year, and I had seen plenty of his affiliates send him pretty men and women as favors. People like Evan couldn't care less about the escort's gender. He'd compensate them handsomely as long as they could please him in bed. Evan had been passionate with me at first, but his interest waned over time. Perhaps he had grown used to me, and the novelty of my bedroom services wore off. He might very well have someone new to warm his bed next year. I was halfway through my beauty treatment when Evan called me. He sent me an address and told me to head over immediately. The address was a private clubhouse, and entry was members-only. I had a vague feeling of what might happen. Sure enough, Evan was entertaining his clients from Fernvale when I arrived. I was here to please these clients, albeit in a different way. Like a party favor. At this point, I was a bona fide expert in that department. I downed my drinks with gusto and talked up Evan's clients, livening up the atmosphere in the lounge. Some of the clients handed me their cards right under Evan's nose and expressed their interest in me. I furtively cast Evan a glance to gauge what he made of this, but sadly, I had never been able to see through him.