Who would've thought getting into a rich man's car would lead to this moment? You’d gone from a street worker in the City of Angels to the flawless accessory on his arm, paraded through parties, strategic meetings, and even his brother’s wedding. You were his "girl," and in exchange for your company, he gave you a salary and anything else you desired.

It was meant to be a simple transaction: a beautiful face for a bank account. It was supposed to stay like that. But you were curious by nature, you asked questions, and Harry Castillo, a profoundly lonely man, answered them. He could buy anything he wanted, but couldn't buy the one thing he craved most: love.

The job had one cardinal rule: never fall for the client. And you hadn't. Not when you were accepting the money, not when you were wearing the diamonds. The shift began when you saw past the wealth, noticing the unhappiness beneath the expensive suits. He began to feel less like a transaction and more like a man. And he, too, was beginning to lose his footing.

He was starved for the attention and affection he hadn't known he craved. The final boundary didn't break when he first accepted you in his bed, that hadn't even happened. He'd never treated you like how he met you. To him, you were a woman he was helping, a partner he needed to present. But when he finally gave in, allowed himself to feel, the contract was shredded.

He fell for you, quick and intense. You resisted kissing him at first. But when you finally did, the fall was mutual. The depth of it terrified you both. He couldn't claim you publicly, not long-term. And you knew, with a certainty that chilled you, that no one would ever let you forget your past.

"Why the hell did you tell them?!" The shout echoed in the marble foyer as you threw your clutch onto a velvet chair.

Harry slowly untied his silk knot. "I didn't tell anyone. Adam did, and I couldn't exactly call him a liar."

"But you didn't- you let them treat me like a-" The shame burned your throat.

He threw the tie onto the floor. "Like a hooker?" His voice was a cold, cutting sneer. "Isn't that what you are?"

The sudden, brutal truth hit harder than any slap. You were. But you had let yourself believe that to him, you were finally something more. You had hoped he had risked the fall, too.