It's been a couple of days since I've been living with Santiago. He's reassured me over and over again that he didn't live with his wife. I found it odd that he had never slept with his wife or in the same bed. When I looked around the house the next day he brought me here, there were no pictures of him with his wife. Most of the pictures were of him with his parents, family and his beloved little cousin sister. There was a massive picture of a young version of him, holding her in his arms, tickling her while she giggled throwing her head back.

I couldn't help but smile at that picture. He looked so young, carefree and happy. He didn't speak much about she died or how his family died but he did speak about the good times. I gulped, feeling the grief in my throat. I couldn't even think about my dead family without tearing up.

What would they think of me now? A whore who sleeps with men for money? Or an abused teen who learned how to survive using whatever means they had in their disposal. I had dreams too. When we came to Cuba, we had very little money but a big American dream. But we were only greeted with poverty and racial slurs. My father and mother tried their best to assimilate, learn English and get a better job but it seemed near impossible. Therefore, we stayed in our little Hispanic community. My father and mother both worked on farms and whatever little they earned, all went into the rent and food.

"What are you thinking?" Shocked by the voice, I whirled around. My hazel eyes met his dark ones. I found myself in front of the mantle where the picture hung on. Tiago chuckled, uncrossed his arms as he walked towards me. "You disappear into that little head of yours a lot don't you. There can be an earthquake and you probably won't even realise."

Taking my hand in his, he moved me towards the giant sofas. Everything in his house was dark colours with light grey, white and gold accents. The large charcoal grey sofa was facing the two story giant glass windows that opened up to the views of city beneath the mountain. The sky was darkening and the bright lights of the city was coming on.

"Hey." He stroked the back of his finger down my cheek to get my attention. Again. Shaking my head, I sat up on the monstrous sofa, leaned against the, facing him.

"I was just thinking about my family." I looked back at the mantle that held 6 photo frames. These were important to him. They were his parents, his cousins and tias and tios.

"Do you have any pictures of your family? You can put them up there too you know. I told you this before, do anything you want with this place." I stared at him in shock. Did he not understand the severity of making space for her dead family on that mantle? It was his shrine. "Just don't take down my sister from there but re arrange the mantle all you like." He dropped a nonchalant kiss on my forehead.

"Tiago, this is your home."

"Now it's yours too." I knew he wasn't just paying for services. I didn't devalue what we had by money but in my line of work, this is something I wasn't used to.

"I don't understand what we have here. I mean, you take me out to restaurants and introduce me as your girlfriend to people who know you there. They know you have a wife. People look at me like am an idiot." I tried to reason with him. He took me dates for the first time in my life that didn't end with a payment. It was just us two. It felt like we were in a relationship and not in a binding contract.

"Everyone knows I married that bitch for money." I stared at him, stunned. Judging by his expression, my face must have been worse than I thought. "We ran the Miami streets. We had no business with the Capones or beef with them. But their sole enemy, was our ally. So when De La Cruz asked us to get in business with them, it strengthened their stance in Chicago. That didn't sit well with the Capones."

He paused, turned to look out the window. The sky had darkened significantly, the sun was gone completely, turning the sky dark blue. The yellow street lights created vertical and horizontal grid lines. More lights flashed, of cars in line, houses lit up. My heart flipped at the tranquil beauty of life. I never knew I'd be here. I used to be on those streets. I scooted closer to him, ran my nails through his hair. He relaxed after a while, breathing out a deep sigh.

"They ambushed us." He didn't look at me. I kept running my fingers through his hair to calm him. "Most of the family came over from Mexico, it was the princess's birthday. She was the only girl." I paused, amazed. He looked at me with a small smile on his face.

"Really?"

"Yeah. My dad only has brothers. My grandpa from my papa's side is the same. So when she was born. Even the aunts who were married into the family dotted on her."

"That's so sweet." I carried on brushing his hair back, loving the smile that was on his face when he talked about his family.

"Everyone came over, from Mexico and L.A. to Miami. Lucia's dad got a call on his daughter's birthday about a tip that was important. It was a tip that Capone was going to attack the De La Cruz's. So we compromised. Me and Tio left with a couple of our men to meet with Thomas De La Cruz down town. Just for a couple of hours. Next thing we know; our phones were buzzing up. A group of armed men broke the front door in and massacred my whole family. Then they burnt the whole place down." He gulped, his eyes advert towards the pictures.

"They fucking killed them on my baby sister's birthday. She was 9. She was just 9." He leaned forward, words choking up in his throat. He rested his elbows on his knees, buried his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry. I sorry for what you've gone through." I rested my lips on the back of his neck, my hands carried on working in his hair. Suddenly he sat up, face void of any emotions.

"So, we lost everything and because people thought we were dead too, we left it that way. Thomas De La Cruz knew though but he never told a soul. He helped us out for a couple of years, until 10 years ago, when we went into legit business with Oliver Vernoff and paid Thomas back in full which he refused to take. We were still in contact until he was killed by Capone. But prior to legal business, Thomas was just our investor. So we used that to show a surplus in business and bought a couple of clubs and that attracted drug dealer and that's how we found distributors, suppliers and worked backwards to Cartels in Mexico that we got into business with.

"The cash was good but it was all illegal. So we couldn't just buy houses with cash without IRS knocking at our door. So..." He finally turned to look at me and we both sat back. "Gina's dad, Oliver Vernoff knew about our business. His men loved to come to the clubs because of the ladies and the drugs."

"You mean strip clubs?" I clarified.

"Yeah." He looked perplexed. "You have a problem with that?"

"NO!" I was a hooker for heaven's sake. I rolled my eyes. "I just thought it was normal club but carry on. I'm guessing Oliver loved the girls too?"

"Yeah." He relaxed back down. "Alberto and him were doing a steady business. He owned constructions businesses but he couldn't just get into business with us cause our money weren't on papers. So I had to show some sort of a legal merger. I was 21, young and hungry for power to kill the Capones so we agreed to the marriage as a business deal that neither of us would have to share anything together. She lives her life and I live mine.

"That was 10 years ago and that gave us the ground to stand on. I made Oliver a hundreds of millions over the years. So, neither he nor she cares about who I'm with."

I finally understood. He didn't marry her because he wanted to exploit her money. It was a deal from both sides.

"But you can't just take me with you to places and introduce me as your girlfriend when they know you're married." I tried to reason.

"I'll get a divorce." He shrugged. "I hate her any ways."

"Why?" the sky had completely gone black now, a couple of stars twinkled but the bright city light radiated enough light to illuminate the night.

"We'd have to go to functions together and I just hated how an ignorant bimbo like her gets to enjoy life where as my young brothers and sister are dead." His distaste was towards privileged people was understandable. I felt like that too sometimes when my clients were young and lived on their parents money. For them an escort service was an exotic experience whereas for men in the 40s to 50s, it was a midlife crisis who wanted someone to talk to and be with without any complication. That's what we called the girlfriend experience package.

"So this is for real huh? Not a girlfriend experience?" My nonchalant comment affected him in a different way that I thought. His expression became thunderous. Forehead creased in an ugly manner, mouth turned down. He as furious.

"You're not a fucking escort to me." He wrapped his arms around my upper arm, put enough pressure on it to make me gasp but not leave a bruise. "You're everything to me. FUCKING EVERYTHING. DON'T YOU DARE think of yourself like that." He pulled me close to him, his breath fanned over my lips.

"But that's who I am." I whispered, ashamed. She shook me and shook his head from side to side to deny it. Pulling away from him, I stood up, turned the dim lamps on scattered around the living room. I liked being in the dark, so did he but we had yet to have dinner so we needed some lights around us. Even though the city light was enough.

"No you're not." I watched the luxurious house turn into shadows and pockets of lights. Standing, he came towards me.

"I'm an escort, Tiago. That's how you met me. That's how I earned my money for years. I created this persona who was not ashamed of being an escort. One night with me would cost someone a month's salary. I pretended that I had the power, I pretended that I was in control of these men whoever came to me. I was a perfect listener, I knew how to work men and squeeze them for more. A penthouse, a private holiday villa, a luxury car. I was good at that." I finally looked at him, his face unreadable.

"I don't know who the real me is anymore." My voice grew thicker, ashamed to look up at him.

"I don't think of you that way."

"Then what do you think of me as? Someone damaged who needs saving?" I finally looked him in the eye, channelling the girl I pretended to be for years.

"No, you're a survivor. We've both used people to survive. I've killed people, I've used women, I've blackmailed and abused anyone and everyone so I could survive. That's what you did. You survived." He wrapped his arms around my waist, held me close to his body. I felt safe with him. Like I was home. Resting my head on his shoulder, I stopped myself from going into my head.

"There are many people out there who works 3 to 4 jobs and gets through college and the gets a job. I could have done that after my parents were killed. I just, I don't know what happened." I still couldn't look up.

"What happened was you had to huge amounts of debt that you had to pay back after they died. You couldn't keep paying the debt collectors and your tuitions. So you found a way." He tipped my head back, brushed his thumb across my cheek. "I've never thought about you being an escort as... anything. It's what you had to do. We both don't live in a perfect world. A house with white picket fence and I don't think I can deal with that. I don't know what that is."

"My family wasn't like that either. We came over here from Cuba for the American dream. I was only 10, my brother was 6. In the movies, people always lived in a road with trees on the side walk and the houses were all different. Everyone knew each other and it was such a dream compared to the gang violence back there." I described making Santiago gave me a rueful smile.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Why?"

"My father ran the streets in Mexico. Drugs, guns, women and I never thought about the collateral damage. I know we weren't in Cuba but we've had business with many. So, I'm sorry for anything you had to suffer." I finally saw it. We were both from the opposite sides of the tracks. We were the innocent ones and they were the criminals.

Not anymore.

We were both criminals now. We were very much equal and that image, me crossing over to the dark side, gave a sense of understanding and peace. It didn't matter what I did or what he did, we were both from the wrong side of the tracks.

"Carry on." He urged, swaying me softly.

"We lived in a small rented house. It was more like a shack and everyone around us spoke Spanish. It was a small Havana itself. It was dirty and dingy but we made it work. My parents worked on avocado farms and me and my brother studied. We never strayed away from our goals and when I got unto UCLA, my parents promised that no matter how, they'd find a way to pay for my college."

"No scholarship?" He frowned.

"I tried. I applied for everything and anything and my GPA was perfect. The only problem was I didn't have ANY extracurricular activity credits. They saw me as anti-social when in reality I was taking my brother home every day, cooking food for the family and then finishing my work for school. By the time I'd go to bed it would be 12 and then I'd have to wake up at 5 to catch multiple buses to get to the other side of town." I sighed, thinking of the dreams I dreamt for a better life in those solace moments.

"You got into a good high school in a different district?"

"Yeah."

"So, when I got to college, I worked and studied like a dog. I never did anything outside of studying. I had one goal. To get my parents and brother out of poverty. Problem was..." I dragged him back to the sofa, we resumed our previous positions. "College was really hard but I still managed to keep my grades up and work at the same time. When..." I still got choked up when talking about my parents. "When my neighbour called to tell me my parents and brother were in a car accident and was in the hospital, I left my everything and ran back home. The lady was kind enough to drive me to the hospital and by the time I got there, all of them were dead."

He wiped away the tears from my cheeks.

"Who was it?" I asked.

"Still to this day, I don't know. I remember the name of the officer though. Officer Khalelo Barnabas. He was Puerto Rican, jet black hair, fair skin and dark blue eyes. He told me that a car drove into them while they were crossing the street. It was a red light but the driver didn't stop. The car literally drove over them and left. He told me they were doing everything they could to find the person..." I shook my head. It's been 8 years and no sign of the perp. His eyebrows creased, he looked pissed.

"So, after the funeral, I sold everything in the house to pay their debt. It wasn't enough. The interest had piled on and I was working 2 jobs, missing classes and I was dying." I wasn't crying yet, so I carried on. "Minimum wage wasn't paying for anything and my grades were slipping. My family had just died and I was so fucking LOST. I didn't know what to do. I called the officer every week but he just kept getting annoyed as time went on. One day, a debt collector showed up at my dorm and I was mortified. That's when my back hit the wall."

"I was so mad at my parents for forcing this life on me. If they knew having kids in a dangerous part of Cuba would be difficult, then it would have been better if they didn't have any kids. If they knew that life was going to be so hard that they had to flee from their own homeland, then they shouldn't have had me and my brother. There was no point in adding the burden onto us when we never asked for it." I tried not to mention that my parents never asked for their life either but I was mad. I needed to blame someone.

"I hated my parents at the moment. They shouldn't learn English to get a job in a better place, they shoved all the burden onto me and my brother of carrying them through and I just hated them." I felt so guilty for doing that. "But that was a boost. I knew a girl in my class who always had designer purses and one day I watched someone who was an older gentleman pick her up in his Maserati. I didn't care what she did to get that money, I needed money. I was desperate."

"I know that desperation." He agreed.

"Exactly. So, I spoke to her, it took her a while to tell me exactly what she did but after I told her about the amount I owed them, she introduced me to Caroline." His eyes widened in recognition. It was the women's house we met in.

"So you've been working for her for 5 years now?" He asked and I nodded. I was 25 and he was 31. He, however, looked much older than 31. The weight of the world had weight him down and it could be seen on his face but his hair was perfectly black. No sign of aging.

"She helped me out. For the first time in my life, someone helped me out in life. She never pressured me and she gave me freedom to choose, to take of control my life and I was so grateful."

"Did she make you do any-"

"NO!" I exclaimed. Not wanting him to get the wrong idea of Miss Caroline. "I got a 1000 dollars for going on just one date with a man. No sleeping no kissing nothing. And I carried on doing that for a while. It wasn't enough to pay of the debts and tuitions but I quit my jobs and focused on studies. The interest kept rising and I wasn't going on too many dates because it didn't end with sex. But the thing with Caroline was, she allowed me to choose the men I wanted to sleep with. All the girls had that right.

"She never pressured me, she even told me she'd loan me the money but that's covering a debt with another one. So, Caroline taught me how to take control. She sat me down and we flicked through the men who wanted me. I was barely 20 and there were a lot of people who wanted that. I found someone who was 32, married and rich. I went on a date with him first night just to test the waters."

"I think I know who he is." Jealousy flared in his eyes.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I know you don't-"

"Stop it. You can tell me anything you want. I wouldn't want you to judge me if I tell you about someone I killed why would I do the same to you?" My heart fluttered, he wasn't disgusted by me. " So what happened with David?"

"At first I didn't sleep with him. I carried on with dates and still going to college. But I still remember the day when I decided to take the full step. I was so angry at life, I wanted to take some control back." It still hurt to think about it.

"What happened?" He urged.

"I made my weekly call again to the detective and he didn't pick up. I got really worried so I kept calling until he finally did and literally screamed at me down the phone." I gulped as I watched his face become murderous. "He told me he will arrest me if I called again and that it was harassment. I tried to tell him that he still didn't find the killer. He said they weren't looking for the killer. There were better things they needed to worry about."

"I'm going to kill him." Santiago exclaimed.

"If you so, can I watch?" I was dead serious.

"With pleasure, my love." He dropped a small kiss on my lips before allowing me to carry on.

"I remember not going to class. Instead, I went to Miss Caroline's place. I told her to lend me her sexiest lingerie and make an appointment with David. Of course he was ecstatic to see where this was going. I don't even remember having sex with him. I was so in my head, killing the guy who ran over my family and the damn, that when it was over, I realised I could do this. I didn't need to go to college. I could live a luxurious life and have no one be disappointed at me because they were all dead."

"So you chose yourself?" He ran his hand down the back of my head.

"Yes. For the first time, I took control of my life and I haven't given it back until you." I felt vulnerable saying that, giving him my all but with him it was different.

He opened his mouth to say something when his security system alerted him that some has opened his front gate.