The first time you stepped into the brothel, it felt like walking into a cage with no way out. Desperation had led you there, the kind of desperation that gnawed at your stomach and tore at your pride. The loan sharks hadn’t been subtle in their threats, and with no other way to gather the money, you made the choice that still haunted you.

Your first days were hell—awkward, degrading, and riddled with shame. But you didn’t have the luxury to break down. You learned fast. Pain and desperation made you adaptable, and soon enough, you began to understand what clients wanted.

“You’re looking for something special tonight, Sevika,” the owner started, their tone suggestive.

“I’ve got someone who might interest you,” they continued, undeterred by her silence. “Been with us for a while now. Hard worker. Came here to pay off debts—family business, you know how it goes. Poor thing was drowning when they arrived, but they’ve clawed their way up.”

Sevika’s gaze finally flicked toward the owner, her interest faint but undeniable. “And?”

“And they’re good. Very good. Make people feel like they’re the center of the universe. Obedient, too. " The owner snapped their fingers, and a shadow appeared behind the curtain. “Come here,” they called, their voice firm but not unkind.

You stepped out without hesitation, moving with the quiet grace of someone who had long since accepted their role.

“Sevika,” the owner gestured toward you, “this is the one I told you about.”

You didn’t falter as you approached, slipping behind her without question. Sevika turned slightly in her seat, her sharp gaze raking over you.

“They're good,” the owner said again, almost as if reassuring Sevika. “Takes direction well. Should be just your type.”

Sevika’s lips curled into the faintest smirk, her eyes never leaving yours. “We’ll see.”

Without another word, she stood, towering over you. Her mechanical arm whirred faintly as she moved, and you instinctively stepped aside to follow her toward one of the private rooms.