Fake Marriage With Prostitute

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, the woman wonders what might be missing from her appearance. She has spent almost half an hour in the luxurious bathroom and should have left by now. She looks at herself closely in the mirror, searching for what might be wrong.

Her straight black hair has been combed since earlier, and her face has been made up. She even struggled to fit the new lingerie she just bought into her bag to add to her charm tonight. She bites her lip softly while still looking at herself in the mirror, then smiles.

Ha! She knows!

The woman smiled contentedly as she saw her lips perfectly painted with her bright red lipstick. The next thing she did was spray perfume on her body and she was ready to do her job. The job that always made her take a deep breath every time she thought of it.

"Hey! Are you still taking long?" The shout made her lazily roll her eyes. Do all men lack patience like this? Don't they know that women need more time to get ready than they do?

She then opened the bathroom door where she was located, and she knew how her attractive body had blinded the lust of the man who had apparently been waiting for him like a madman. The man then unbuttoned his shirt and all the clothes that clung to him, and then proceeded to do the same to her.

Then why did she bother buying new lingerie if this man was going to rip it off in the end? She thought.

"Jane," the man called out. Jane remained silent, ignoring the man's calls, growls, moans, screams, or anything else that came out of his mouth. She didn't care; she just let the man do what he wanted to her body. She couldn't refuse, as it was part of her job. Jane could only pray in her heart, hoping that whatever the man was doing to her body would soon end.

The man fell asleep shortly after their hot struggle ended. He turned his back on Jane, who was still awake, sitting and looking around with an empty gaze. Another man had tasted her body again.

It's funny how sadness and shame still slap her even though this has happened many times before.

Jane hopes she can find another way, but she can't.

No one is kind enough to lend her a hand when she needs it.

She wanted to leave that place as soon as possible, but not before she got what she deserved for her hard work. Fortunately, the man then woke up from his sleep, mumbling incoherently.

"Oh, Jane. How lucky I am to taste you tonight," said the man, whose name Jane couldn't remember even until now, as he buttoned up his white shirt one by one.

Jane didn't know if the proud tone in the man's words should make her feel flattered or not.

The man didn't have to turn his back on her when he could see her reflection through the mirror. Jane could clearly see how he put on his trousers, sat down to put on his socks and shoes, and carelessly tied his tie.

"This is your payment for tonight, and I'll add a little bonus," he said, placing several stacks of money on the bed beside her, still naked under the white blanket covering her body.

She rarely received bonuses. It seemed that tonight's client deserved an award as the best client according to Jane. Why couldn't she have more clients like this?

Her thank you was muffled, covered by the sound of the bedroom door that then closed. The man left, leaving her alone still sitting while clutching the white blanket tightly with both hands. She looked at the stack of money beside her, took it, and held it close to her chest.

This man was not like her previous clients who preferred to throw their payment right in her face. Each time she was treated like that, Jane felt increasingly worthless. But she was grateful that at least tonight's client could appreciate her more as a human being.

Jane then lay down, letting the money lie on her chest. She slowly closed her eyes.

All for Illianna, her little sister.

As long as her sister recovered.

She just had to hold on a little longer.

She wouldn't be okay right away just by remembering those sentences, but at least it could help her feel a little stronger.

Without bothering to cover her body, she got off the bed and picked up her scattered clothes from the floor before putting them back on. Quickly, she put all her payment in her bag and left the place.

Walking out of the luxury hotel, she strolled down the street and hailed a passing taxi. Inside the taxi, she spent her time just staring out at the view.

Her hand was ready to take out some money when she realized that the taxi had already entered her residential area fifteen minutes later. She then handed some money to the driver who thanked her and said that she could keep the change.

Walking into her modest apartment, she turned on the light and threw her bag carelessly. She immediately cleaned herself up and then comfortably lay down on her bed.

"So tired," she said as she closed her eyes.

Jane was tired, both physically and emotionally.

She really wanted to leave this world, but she knew she couldn't. Her boss, Madam Lexa, clearly wouldn't let her go without a fight.

Not only that. If she stops, how will she be able to afford the incredibly expensive medical expenses for her sister's treatment?

Jane is really foolish to think of leaving when there is nothing else she can do.

So, every time she had thoughts or desires to leave, she quickly buried them deep down.

Stopped being a prostitute might be one of the many wishes she wouldn't be able to fulfill.

The Heavenly Bar, it's where she's been working for the past two years.

It gave men out there the chance to taste her body for a not so cheap price. A hell she never imagined would be the place where she had to rely on to support her sister's life, apart from the hospital of course.

Walking in, she saw her boss, also the owner of this business, Madam Lexa, chatting with some men near the toilet. The bar had just opened and only a few customers had come in. Jane then sat next to Kayla, her close friend during her work here, who apparently arrived earlier and was sitting nicely at the bar table.

"You're already getting drunk in the afternoon?" she asked in disbelief when she saw Kayla drinking what she knew was her favourite drink, gin.

Laughing softly, the blonde woman put back the shot glass she was holding. "One glass won't make me drunk. If I get drunk, please carry me." She poked Jane's shoulder, which was