Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy - Chapter 13: Chapter 13
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Two days later, I found myself slipping into a designer dress that cost more than most people's rent—ten grand, easy.
Alexander had gone all out, bringing in a professional makeup artist to transform me. My hair was swept into an elegant updo, my face contoured to perfection.
Staring at my reflection, I barely recognized myself.
Was that really me?
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect," Alexander murmured approvingly.
Then came the light smack on my backside, his voice dripping with casual authority. "You wanted to make money, didn't you? There'll be plenty of high-stakes games later. Play your cards right."
"Okay," I replied, the picture of obedience.
He whisked me away to a sprawling villa in the suburbs.
The driveway was a parade of luxury cars—Ferraris, Bentleys, the works. A crowd had already gathered outside, buzzing with energy.
The men were all Alexander's contemporaries, dressed in sleek, expensive casual wear. But the real spectacle? Their arm candy.
Instagram models with half a million followers. D-list actresses who'd graced a few TV screens. The kind of women who turned heads without even trying.
Alexander exchanged effortless banter with the guys, barely acknowledging the women. I hovered behind him, silent and still, like a well-trained accessory.
Almost every man's eyes locked onto me.
"Holy shit, Alexander. Where'd you dig up this one?"
Pleased with the reaction, Alexander smirked. "Just some stray I picked up. Have fun with her."
Another swat on my rear. "Go grab the gifts from the trunk."
I did as I was told, fetching the neatly wrapped packages and handing them over.
Soon, the last of the guests arrived.
The women lingered outside, left to their own devices, while the men—laughing, clapping each other on the back—pushed open the villa's massive doors and disappeared inside.
Alexander had gone all out, bringing in a professional makeup artist to transform me. My hair was swept into an elegant updo, my face contoured to perfection.
Staring at my reflection, I barely recognized myself.
Was that really me?
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect," Alexander murmured approvingly.
Then came the light smack on my backside, his voice dripping with casual authority. "You wanted to make money, didn't you? There'll be plenty of high-stakes games later. Play your cards right."
"Okay," I replied, the picture of obedience.
He whisked me away to a sprawling villa in the suburbs.
The driveway was a parade of luxury cars—Ferraris, Bentleys, the works. A crowd had already gathered outside, buzzing with energy.
The men were all Alexander's contemporaries, dressed in sleek, expensive casual wear. But the real spectacle? Their arm candy.
Instagram models with half a million followers. D-list actresses who'd graced a few TV screens. The kind of women who turned heads without even trying.
Alexander exchanged effortless banter with the guys, barely acknowledging the women. I hovered behind him, silent and still, like a well-trained accessory.
Almost every man's eyes locked onto me.
"Holy shit, Alexander. Where'd you dig up this one?"
Pleased with the reaction, Alexander smirked. "Just some stray I picked up. Have fun with her."
Another swat on my rear. "Go grab the gifts from the trunk."
I did as I was told, fetching the neatly wrapped packages and handing them over.
Soon, the last of the guests arrived.
The women lingered outside, left to their own devices, while the men—laughing, clapping each other on the back—pushed open the villa's massive doors and disappeared inside.
End of Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy Chapter 13. Continue reading Chapter 14 or return to Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy book page.