1. It's over, Oliver

"Why me?" I barely recognize my own voice. The man sitting on the couch in the dark room she was called into, scares her. It's not just because he's a stranger and I'm all alone with him, everything about him screams something more... Something deeper and mysterious-- dangerous even.

I shouldn't be here.

Yet I couldn't resist the tempting offer when Molly had thrown it on the table.

"It's just one night," she had assured me. "They are big clients and you can get the money for her hospital bills. I barely have enough for myself, Becca. I really don't want to make you do this but the choice is yours."

My mother had been sick for years now and we not only burnt our health insurance and trust funds but our extended family had called it quits, saying there's no need spending money on a dying woman.

She wasn't dying. She just wasn't getting better and I wasn't going to give up. My mother is the only remaining family from the car crash fifteen years ago.

I lost my father to the crash and my mother barely made it out alive. Part of my memories were gone too, the only thing I suffered besides my parents ill fate but after five years, my mother's condition worsened.

Molly was lying on the bed, sick with her work ID stretched out to me. There was nothing more to be said.

I had it all covered before. I had worked six jobs to pay for my mother's bills and to fund myself to college but in one day, I lost all the jobs and no one would hire me ever since.

It was as though a dark entity had spread its wings over me, shielding me from all the luck.

Just one semester and I would finally be done with school and get a better job to continue my mother's bills.

The man's chuckle shakes me out from the thoughts and goosebumps swallows me whole. The sound of a click as he drops his glass on the table sends my heart into overdrive.

My eyes were useless in this room, yet they moved back and forth as though scanning the place, trying to adjust to the darkness.

There was a sweet smell of chocolate, I wonder if it's just the vodka-- or maybe it's him.

“Of all my candidates, you're…”

My breath was caught in his hanging words. I needed a reason why I was selected. This wasn't an ordinary bar, it was for rich men to perform their sexual fetish with willing girls.

My heart broke when I realised how dangerous Molly's night job was and I felt even terrible for asking for a loan to pay her bills.

Molly was even kind enough not to say “since you've got pussy, put it to good use too."

"... promising." He finally said and I could breathe again. "You have a vision for your future, you're working towards it and I could help you."

"The thing is, Rebecca, you have something to lose." Somehow, his words made me shiver. Why did that sound like a bad thing when coming from his lips?

Mustering the courage, I respond firmly, "My mother is not collateral damage-"

"No, but she's your driving force," he rose to his feet and I instinctively took a step back, "No no, don't do that." I froze from his command and he was in front of me in the twinkling of an eye.

His cologne hits me like warm chocolate mixed with harsh vodka and I shiver when his cold fingers touch my chin. "I need a woman who'll use me as much as I'll use her, Rebecca."

He leans down to my lips, gently pulling my chin closer and closer till his musky breath fast my face and his lips brush against mine, sending a spark down my spine.

"Be that woman for me, Rebecca. Be my woman."

***

It's been three years since that night. A lot has changed. It feels like I'm waking up from a long sleep of a dream because everything hurts.

I squeeze my phone in my hand as I see the headlines, my tears try to blur the truth from me but it's too late for that.

News of his engagement is all over the place.

'This marks an end for the famous gold digger- Rebecca Hoffman.'

'Rebecca Wright? What a joke! That doesn’t even sound right!'

I snicker at the joke, swinging my legs in the cold pool while I'm seated at the edge staring at the photos of Oliver-- my pretend boyfriend up until five hours ago- and his new possibly 'real' girlfriend, Annie Quinn. A heiress to her family's wealth.

Of course, wealth marries into wealth.

Everything I have belongs to Oliver, they may be in my name but they belong to him still.

I picked myself up after switching off the screen-- okay, enough feeling sorry for myself. I know what I must do.

I have my luggage arranged in my bedroom, the car ready to take me to a hotel where I'll stay for a few days and sort out my life. I've typed and readied my resignation letter. Now that I'm no longer the CEO'S woman, who would want to employ a drop out?

Shit! I really have been living a big fat lie all these while. I couldn't even finish college! The one thing I strived hard for to make my mother proud.

I threw it all away just because I got so comfortable with Oliver's wealth. I can't blame him for anything. I put it all on me.

"No strings attached," he had made it clear. "You're not allowed to love me, Miss. Hoffman." Yet that smile in his eyes and his voice seemed like they were daring me to do otherwise.

I grab my suitcase in the bedroom-- our bedroom-- God! We lived like married couples, sleeping in the same bed, having breakfast and dinner together, attending every function and even together-- Oliver Wright was literally my life.

"There you are!" He says from behind me, startling me and I spin around with a fast beating heart having been caught red-handed.

He's flashing his million dollar smile again like everything is alright and he's wearing the same suit from his date.

He's returning to me after spending the whole day with another woman.

My heart has never felt so heavy in all my years.

Oliver is quick to wrap me in his arms and I foolishly let myself relax, telling myself it's the last time-- might as well enjoy it.

"I've been searching all over for you," he sways us gently and presses a kiss to the side of my head.

"I didn't go anywhere," why search for me when you have me at your beck and call yet, I don't have you?

"As you should," he's pleased. His hug is suffocating, her perfume clings to him, mocking me like these comments and those headlines on the news.

I can't breathe, I feel choked up. I'm drowning in the endless sea of love I have for this man.

Please, let me go. Let me go. Please.

"I'm leaving," tears welled up in my eyes.

"Leaving where? You're not having dinner without me, are you?"

Fuck! How am I not supposed to love you when you treat me like I'm your fucking wife!

"It's over, Oliver. We're done." I say firmly, trying to push him away but he does budge. It takes a while to realise he's gone cold around me and I lift my head to his eyes.

They're staring at me with confusion and a silent glare that shakes me to my bone.

"That's funny," he says with his eyes slightly wide open. "Where did you learn to say such words?”