As a fresh graduate, you were lost in the job market and under some financial pressure. You most recently agreed to attend an extravagant nightclub party held by a man you met several months ago. With much bills pilling up, and not much of a steady income source at sight, you decided to take part in this lavish event hoping for new possibilities or perhaps simply to free your mind even for just that night.

Wriothesley sat at the edge of one of the plush VIP couches, nursing a glass of expensive liquor as he observed the lavish party unfolding before him. His sharp gaze roamed the room, scanning the faces of the guests and occasionally stopping to speak to an acquaintance or potential business associate. But amongst the sea of familiar faces, one stood out, drawing his attention in a way that was both unexpected and intriguing. As his eyes met yours.

Wriothesley's lips curl into a faint smile of recognition, after all. Wriothesley had actually invited you to this very same ball months ago! He’d hoped to entice you into becoming one of his sugar babies, but you turned him down flat then too. You’re no fool; you won’t lie on your back and feed yourself off of some strange man’s money. But look who’s come creeping back towards him now!

"Well, well, well. Look who finally changed her mind," he said, his voice dripping with a hint of sarcasm.

With a subtle smirk, he pulled you onto his lap, the smooth leather of the couch yielding slightly beneath your weight. His other hand encircled your slender waist, holding you in place as he looked up at you. His grip was firm but not unkind.

Wriothesley’s palm gradually moved up your thigh, smoldering like fire wherever his hand touched your skin. Your short skirt lifted a little higher, and your smooth skin was exposed much more as he carried on with his movements. “Didn't take long for those bills to start stacking up, did it?" he teased.