Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
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The green badge pinned to my chest marked my new identity—a masseuse at the spa.
For a sixty-minute foot massage, clients paid ninety-eight bucks. My cut? Thirty-five. Not bad.
I worked my fingers to the bone that first month, not just repaying the five-grand advance but pocketing an extra three thousand.
With the extra cash, I splurged on more flowers. Standing on the balcony, watering them as the sunset painted the city gold, I let myself dream.
Just a little longer. A little more saved.
One day, I'd have enough for my own tiny place.
That day, hope flickered—maybe I could really stay.
To keep clients coming back, I copied Sophia Evans, nodding along to conversations about things I barely grasped. They spilled their guts—family feuds, office politics—stuff they couldn't tell anyone else, trusting a stranger like me.
The more I listened, the clearer it became: money didn't erase problems.
One night, out of nowhere, Ethan Roscente crossed my mind.
Now that he was with that wealthy older woman, our old struggles were behind him. But did he have new ones?
The thought flared and died. I plastered on a smile for my client and kneaded harder.
No use thinking about him. I was making it on my own.
Six months in, I'd saved enough to treat myself to a set of trendy makeup. Working indoors had bleached my skin pale, but my makeup game? Sharper than ever.
I became the spa's top earner—and learned its secrets.
Like the hidden door at the end of the hall.
Beyond it was another world.
Sophia Evans worked there. She'd moved out, saved for a down payment, and bought a tiny secondhand apartment.
But me? I was wearing thin.
Tired of smelly feet. Tired of "accidental" brushes against my chest. Tired of faking interest in empty chatter.
Then, one day, he walked in.
Ethan.
Dressed in a designer suit, a luxury belt cinching his waist. His watch—a Longines, worth more than five grand—gleamed like the spa manager's.
He dismissed everyone else and stared me down in the silent room.
"If I hadn't seen that supplier's post, I'd never have believed you'd stoop this low."
Half a year apart, I'd wondered how I'd feel if I ever saw him again.
But when it happened? Nothing. Just numbness.
"Not your problem. I'm doing fine."
The words barely left my mouth before he yanked me into his arms.
His kiss was rough, his hands tearing at my uniform, barging back into my life like he owned it.
I didn't want this. But my body betrayed me.
It was the first time I'd ever done this at work.
Then, faces flashed—influencers, cops, landlords, Sophia, endless clients…
And her. That woman whose name I didn't even know. The one he called "Auntie."
All the bitterness I'd bottled up exploded, and I—
Finally broke down.
For a sixty-minute foot massage, clients paid ninety-eight bucks. My cut? Thirty-five. Not bad.
I worked my fingers to the bone that first month, not just repaying the five-grand advance but pocketing an extra three thousand.
With the extra cash, I splurged on more flowers. Standing on the balcony, watering them as the sunset painted the city gold, I let myself dream.
Just a little longer. A little more saved.
One day, I'd have enough for my own tiny place.
That day, hope flickered—maybe I could really stay.
To keep clients coming back, I copied Sophia Evans, nodding along to conversations about things I barely grasped. They spilled their guts—family feuds, office politics—stuff they couldn't tell anyone else, trusting a stranger like me.
The more I listened, the clearer it became: money didn't erase problems.
One night, out of nowhere, Ethan Roscente crossed my mind.
Now that he was with that wealthy older woman, our old struggles were behind him. But did he have new ones?
The thought flared and died. I plastered on a smile for my client and kneaded harder.
No use thinking about him. I was making it on my own.
Six months in, I'd saved enough to treat myself to a set of trendy makeup. Working indoors had bleached my skin pale, but my makeup game? Sharper than ever.
I became the spa's top earner—and learned its secrets.
Like the hidden door at the end of the hall.
Beyond it was another world.
Sophia Evans worked there. She'd moved out, saved for a down payment, and bought a tiny secondhand apartment.
But me? I was wearing thin.
Tired of smelly feet. Tired of "accidental" brushes against my chest. Tired of faking interest in empty chatter.
Then, one day, he walked in.
Ethan.
Dressed in a designer suit, a luxury belt cinching his waist. His watch—a Longines, worth more than five grand—gleamed like the spa manager's.
He dismissed everyone else and stared me down in the silent room.
"If I hadn't seen that supplier's post, I'd never have believed you'd stoop this low."
Half a year apart, I'd wondered how I'd feel if I ever saw him again.
But when it happened? Nothing. Just numbness.
"Not your problem. I'm doing fine."
The words barely left my mouth before he yanked me into his arms.
His kiss was rough, his hands tearing at my uniform, barging back into my life like he owned it.
I didn't want this. But my body betrayed me.
It was the first time I'd ever done this at work.
Then, faces flashed—influencers, cops, landlords, Sophia, endless clients…
And her. That woman whose name I didn't even know. The one he called "Auntie."
All the bitterness I'd bottled up exploded, and I—
Finally broke down.
End of Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy book page.