A prostitute

In the bustling city of New York, the winter days were unbearably dreary and desolate. The trees, stripped bare of their vibrant leaves, were whipped mercilessly by the biting, cold wind. Cathleen bundled up in a thick coat and scarf, stood by the window of her room. She cradled her phone in her ear as she spoke with someone, her voice muffled by the loud roar of traffic outside. As she turned to glance at her travel bag, already packed and ready for her impending trip, a sneer played on her lips. Oblivious to the creaking of the door behind her, she was fully engrossed in her conversation.

"What do you mean the auction is going to take place in New York?" Xavier stood rigidly at the doorway, his hand tucked into the pocket of his trousers as he leaned on the doorframe. Cathleen's voice drifted through the air, her words flowing effortlessly in conversation with the person on the other end of the line. She seemed completely engrossed, unaware of Xavier's presence just a few feet away.