❥ SARAH ❥

"You have to got to be fucking with me,"

I muttered in frustration, staring at the overwhelming pile of debt my so-called father had left behind. It had doubled in size, and I was left to deal with the consequences.

I shouldn't have to pay for his mess. He was the one who decided to sell his soul to gambling. So why am I the one stuck with this burden, you might ask?

Because he fucking disappeared.

There was no trace of him, no evidence of his existence. I tried calling him, but he was unreachable. I wasn't surprised.

I couldn't help but wonder what my mom saw in him. Sure, he had his charms, but as soon as Mom decided to visit the "Big Guy" up there, he drowned his sorrows with countless women he brought into our house. I still have nightmares about those days.

He was an addict, and everyone in the neighborhood knew about his problem. At least he wasn't into drugs, but he had an insatiable appetite for gambling. He used to say it opened his eyes to the value of money.

I called it greed.

"That bastard," I muttered, my respect for him evaporating completely. Since he left, James and I were left to suffer in this world. James was my younger brother, and unfortunately, he had been dealing with weak bones for years. It led me to do the most desperate job a woman could do.

I became a girlfriend for rent.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I would play the role of someone's girlfriend. I didn't care what the occasion was, as long as it didn't involve sexual activities in the bedroom. It sounded sad, I know, but what else could an undergraduate with a degree in Biochemistry do when there were no jobs available? People, for some messed-up reason, didn't want to hire fresh graduates like me.

Maybe it was just my luck.

"Hey, lady, what are you doing in there? Giving birth? I need to use the restroom," a woman's voice barked from outside the ladies' restroom, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I quickly got up from the toilet seat, flushed, and washed my hands. I had a meeting with a client here, and since he was rudely late, I decided to grab a bite to eat, which landed me in the restroom. He wanted me to pretend to be his girlfriend to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. It was one of the regular jobs I was hired for.

The idea came to me after I graduated from college. I needed to make quick cash to pay for my brother's medical expenses. I didn't want to become a stripper because the club that paid the most in my neighborhood was frequented by students from my college. There were rumors that even professors went there, which would be incredibly awkward.

Imagine twerking my ass for a lecturer. No thank you.

I opened the door and noticed an irritated woman standing there. She folded her arms and tapped her foot, glaring at me as if I had just committed a heinous crime. I quickly assessed her appearance and had to resist rolling my eyes.

I knew people like her. Her clothes looked ridiculously expensive, and the sparkles on her outfit nearly blinded my poor, nearsighted eyes.

"I apologize—" I began, but she raised her hand, cutting me off.

"Don't care. Just excuse me," she said, her tone dismissive. I stepped aside, about to walk away, when I heard her mutter, "fucking peasant," as she entered the very same toilet I had just vacated moments ago.

"That bitch," I hissed, not in the mood to waste any more time. I had a job to do, and after that, I had to visit James.

He was at the neighborhood hospital, as we couldn't afford to take him to a specialized one for his health condition. Luckily, the hospital's owner had started a free education program there, which felt like a sign from the universe, helping me out in that aspect.

I adjusted myself, passing by a couple of people—mostly men—who couldn't help but stare at me. One of the perks of my job was that I had the looks to lure people in. I was fortunate to inherit my mom's striking grey eyes and a slim, Brazilian body with curves that fit in all the right places. My breasts weren't overly large, but they were enough to catch the attention of men.

Now, you might be wondering how I managed to create a website for my job. Well, my best friend Sam came to the rescue. She was a computer genius and had her own job as a hacker for hire. We girls had to do whatever it took to survive, even if it meant engaging in some illegal activities.

I thought she would find my idea crazy, but when I told her about it, her exact words were, "Girl, I would have signed up, but sadly, my computer babies need me."

She was crazy, but she was my kind of crazy.

Sam and I had been friends since high school, and we planned to keep our friendship going for who knows how long. We had each other's backs, and in this tough world, that was a rare and precious thing.

I spotted my " client" seated at a chair in the restaurant. He wasn't bad looking, with a fresh haircut and a well-matched black suit. His cologne filled the air, making a statement.

He must really wanted his ex to think he had moved on.

"I'm so sorry, traffic," he immediately apologized as he saw me approaching. He quickly got up from his chair and pulled out a chair for me.

At least this one was a gentleman.

"Not a problem, you look sharp," I smirked, crossing my legs.

"Oh, thank you. You look ravishing as always," he complimented me, and I winked at him as a thank you. It was a compliment I often heard from the men I helped, so I had grown accustomed to it.

He reached out and handed me his phone, pushing it towards my side. "That's a picture of my ex. I just want you to act like you're into me. Hope it's not too much," he sounded desperate, maybe even too desperate.

"Oh, honey, that's not a problem..." I trailed off as my eyes fixated on the girl's photo. "That's your ex?" I stared back at him with a bit of shock, then gave him a mischievous grin.

"Yes, why?" he looked concerned. "Do you know her?"

I took the drink he had ordered for us before replying. "Not really. I just met her in the restroom, and honestly, you could have done better." He sighed, pinching his nose in frustration.

"That bad, huh?" I couldn't help but ask.

"You have no idea. That's why I need your help," the sadness in his tone was evident, and I felt compelled to deal with his Karen of an ex.

Time seemed to slow down as I noticed her walking towards us. "She's coming," I alerted him. He was about to turn, but I stopped him. "Lean toward me a little."

He looked confused but followed my instruction. "Hey, John--" she called his name, and without wasting a second, I grabbed his shirt and pressed my lips against his. He froze in shock, just as I had expected. I finished the act with a fake moan, then opened my eyes, staring at the woman who now resembled a statue.

I shouldn't have forgotten my camera.

Her lips parted wide open, and I wished a fly would fly into her mouth. People around us started staring, mostly at me, as I twisted my lips around his. Slowly, I pulled back, pleased with the impact I had made. My red lipstick was all over his lips, and it took all my willpower not to burst into laughter.

I leaned into his ear, "That will cost you an extra fee." He eagerly nodded his head, which made me smile. "Good boy."

Time to play the next part. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. Look at your lips, let me clean it up for you," I smiled at him, picking up a napkin from the table and gently wiping his lips. I used my peripheral vision to notice how his ex bit her lips in anger before storming out of the restaurant.

"Is... Is she gone?" he managed to speak, which meant he was out of his initial shock.

I discarded the napkin, took my lipstick from my purse, and reapplied it to my lips. "Yes, which means my job is done." I pressed my lips together and made a popping sound, then got up. "I expect to see my extra fee. Goodbye."

I winked at him, walking away from the table before he could suggest that I stay for dinner. I wasn't in the mood to tell him no, though he was nice. Too nice, if I might add.

Relationships with clients were never my thing. I had a rule about not dating them, I mean if they needed a fake girlfriend to remove theirs who knows what other crazy schemes they might have up their sleeves? So, as I made my way towards the exit door, the bellman opened it for me, and a cool breeze brushed against my face, providing a much-needed breath of fresh air.

"This dress is ridiculously tight," I muttered to myself, struggling to adjust the dark blue gown that clung to my body. It was undeniably sexy, making me feel like a superstar, but I desperately needed room to breathe.

Lost in my thoughts, I accidentally collided with someone's chest. Looking up, I found myself face-to-face with two muscular men in sleek black suits. They had serious expressions on their faces, reminding me of the agents from the movie 'Men in Black.'

"Miss Wayne?" one of them inquired in a grave tone.

"N-Nope, You've got the wrong person," I stammered, trying to walk away. But before I could escape, they firmly grabbed my arms and forcefully ushered me into a waiting black jeep.

Oh shit, are these the people my dad owes money to? Am I in danger?

Panic surged through me as my mind conjured up all sorts of terrifying possibilities.

"I'll... I'll scream!" I mustered up the last bit of courage I had, hoping my threat would deter them.

Did it work? No.

The two men exchanged glances, seemingly undeterred by my outburst. Then, to my surprise, one of them effortlessly hoisted me over his shoulder, despite my protests and feeble attempts to fight back.

"What the hell?! Let me go!" I pounded on the man's strong shoulders, hurting my hands in the process, but my determination remained unyielding.

So caught up was I in my desperate struggle that I failed to notice the other man opening the back door. Before I knew it, I was unceremoniously thrown into the jeep.

"You mother f--" Before I could finish my expletive, they slammed the door shut, leaving me trapped and alone. I continued pounding on the windows, screaming for help, until I suddenly froze, realizing I wasn't the only captive.

"Hey," a woman smirked, and my heart sank as I recognized her as the same woman whose boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, I had recently kissed.

Oh no.

"Umm..." My voice quivered, my mind racing with questions and apprehension. He never mentioned his ex was a Mafia leader!

"Calm down," she chuckled, sensing my fear. She held out a bottle of water towards me. "Take it, you'll need it."

I reached for the water, my trembling hands betraying my anxiety. I knew I had to keep my cool if I wanted to survive this ordeal.

"I must say, I'm impressed," she said, leaning back against the seat, resting her chin on her hand.

"Impressed?" I echoed, my confusion evident.

"Yes, when I heard about your dating site, I didn't think you'd be this convincing. So, I'm impressed," she explained, her voice carrying a hint of an unfamiliar accent.

"So, you know that I'm..."

"Of course, I planned it all. Didn't I?" She revealed with a sly grin, leaving me dumbfounded.

"So he's not your... boyfriend?" I asked, desperately trying to make sense of the situation.

She scoffed. "Hell no. I just needed to lure you because I need your help."

Lure me? She could have simply messaged me on my website instead of resorting to kidnapping!

Internally screaming at the thought, I forced myself to remain calm. "Help with what?"

A mischievous smile played on her lips as she leaned forward, uttering words that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I need you to be a fake bride."