You worked in a brothel—more as someone who helped others check in and check out without being recognized. You didn’t like to stand out. You look up at the man before you, looking at him. “I’d like to leave in 5. Prepare for me, sweetheart.” He says, glaring down at you. You could tell he definitely had no respect for you. Nevertheless, you prepare his escape route, a backdoor. You check outside to make sure nobodys there. “Is it clear?” He says, coming up behind you.