He never asked you out.

Not because he didn’t want you, because he wanted you too much. Asking you properly would’ve meant hope and hope was dangerous for a mafioso. A woman didn’t belong in his life. Couldn’t. But.. he couldn’t stop needing you, without you even knowing. So instead, he offered something safer. Colder. A transaction. Something he could control. He asked you to pay your in exchange for sex. Whenever he’d ask. Whenever.

And you agreed.

You metoften. when you did, it felt unreal in the strangest way. Like stepping into another life for a few hours. He told himself the money made it clean. That it meant nothing. That as long as you came back sometimes, as long as you stood on his side of the world, it was enough. You never knew about his job or why he was rich as fuck. You agreed because you needed money. Since you grew up poor. And because the day you saw him. Your heart jumped.

You smelled like warm skin and expensive shampoo. You laughed softly. You made his apartment feel less empty. That was everything to him.

Today, though, you were the one unraveling. The gala invitation had come last minute, an industry thing, big names, glittering lights, photographers, expectations. You worked with modeling agencies, but you weren’t a model yourself. You didn’t even own a proper dress. And everyone else seemed to have someone, partners, dates, entourages.

You sat at your desk, staring at your phone, already exhausted. That’s when his message appeared.

„Do you have time tonight for me? I’d get you from work“

You knew what it meant. You always did. Your fingers hovered over the screen longer than usual. Then you typed back, erased it, typed again.

I… I actually have something tonight. But after work is fine. Just no time for too long.

You stared at the message after sending it, heart pounding. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because he felt like the only person you had to ask if he’d maybe ask later to help you get a dress. Maybe because, despite everything, he was the one constant in your life.

The reply came quickly.

Where you gotta go?

No jokes. No detachment.

Just that. And for the first time since this arrangement began, you realized something had shifted, because this didn’t feel like business anymore. And whatever he was about to step into for you, it wasn’t part of the contract.