Tonight, the guests who requested "René" included four men and one woman. Renée followed four other lounge hostesses into the private room in a single file.

Seated at the center was Silas, a notorious broker and a regular at the lounge. He was lean and sharp, with a pair of shifty, lecherous eyes and a sleazy expression. Beside him sat the only woman in the group, clearly an important guest he was eager to entertain. The usually arrogant and overbearing Silas now showed nothing but obsequious flattery.

Madam Hnin had already given Renée a heads-up. The woman was Thiri Zaw, the current head of the Zaw family and CEO of Menke. Sitting next to her was her younger brother, Min Zaw.

Twenty years ago, the Zaw family faced a crisis that claimed the lives of Thiri and Min's parents. At the time, Thiri was twenty, and Min was only five. She gave up her studies and single-handedly took on the weight of their parents' legacy. Over the years, she navigated the power struggles among the major families as the only female head. While she couldn't be described as dominant, she had managed to keep a firm grip on the Zaw family's business.

Perhaps out of fear that the family's legacy would fall into someone else's hands, Thiri had never married, and, as far as anyone knew, had no romantic scandals either.

Maybe that was why Silas had chosen René to accompany her—someone more subtle compared to the other male escorts. Otherwise, given Silas's usual tastes, he would have packed the room with flamboyant escorts and indulged in debauchery until dawn.

Thiri's hair was neatly coiled into a high bun, accentuating her defined features. Her subtly arched eyebrows framed sharp, almond-shaped eyes that gleamed with intelligence. Even past forty, her figure—clad in a meticulously tailored luxury suit—remained as exquisite as that of a youthful maiden.

When she saw Renée enter, her expression froze. Her younger brother beside her also visibly paused, but unlike his sister, he didn't look as if his soul had been taken away.

Silas immediately noticed Thiri's interest in René and silently congratulated himself for making the right choice.

"Ms. Zaw, René is one of the most sought-after gentlemen here. It's not easy to book him. I had to snatch him from someone else for you. Let him keep you good company tonight."

Thiri snapped out of her trance under Silas's teasing laughter. The others also clicked their tongues in admiration, praising Silas for his keen eye. Thiri had clearly never encountered such a situation before and felt a bit regretful about her lapse in composure, quickly offering a few polite remarks to cover it up.

Renée approached with measured grace, bowed slightly in greeting, and then took a seat between the Zaw siblings.

A sweet-looking young woman sat beside Min, her black, form-fitting cocktail dress hugging her slender frame—youthful and alluring, but without overt sensuality.

Renée noticed that Min only gave her a polite nod as she sat down before turning away to continue sipping his drink.

His dark eyes were bottomless, unreadable. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing glimpses of his toned chest. His slightly wavy short hair brushed casually against his ears. He tilted his head languid, his expression sour—clearly here against his will, likely dragged along by his sister. Though his posture was loose and a hint of impatience, he effortlessly exuded the seductive, reckless charm of a young man in his prime.

The girl beside him chatted with him idly. Min didn't seem particularly engaged. Yet, from time to time, his gaze flickered toward Renée, sizing her up from head to toe.

It wasn't admiration, nor was there any hint of desire—just a slow, deliberate scrutiny, carrying an unmistakable air of disdain.

Renée understood clearly—Min saw her as nothing more than a man with working limbs who still relied on women to make a living.

But his gaze didn't affect her in the slightest. She smoothly poured Thiri another drink, her movements practiced and mechanical, as if simply completing a task.

Thiri clearly had different thoughts from her brother. She seemed to enjoy watching Renée pour her drinks, sipping one after another. quickly becoming tipsy. She leaned against Renée's shoulder, muttering drunken praises about how René was handsome and gentle—unlike certain men who were always lustful and trying to take advantage of her.

Renée could easily guess what Thiri had gone through. She had taken over the family business at the prime of her youth and spent years navigating a male-dominated world. It must have been anything but easy. Normally reserved and quiet, Renée found herself offering a few words of comfort—purely out of a shared understanding as a woman.

That was all it took. It was as if Thiri had finally met someone who truly understood her. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but the usually composed and formidable businesswoman began to let go, indulging in a rare moment of vulnerability, completely turning into a little woman in front of Renée.

Seeing his sister like this, Min's gaze toward Renée grew even more contemptuous, now laced with a hint of anger. He attempted several times to offer a word of caution, but Thiri ignored him each time. 

Meanwhile, Silas and the others, along with the four hostesses, eagerly stirred the pot, fanning the flames of Thiri's infatuation with Renée. The private room soon became lively and boisterous.

Thiri raised her hand as if to touch Renée's chest, but just as she did, Renée happened to raise her own hand to lift her glass. A full glass of red wine spilled onto Renée's black suit.

Flustered, Thiri hurriedly tried to help clean it up, but Renée, unfazed, calmly stood up, apologized for the mistake, and turned to leave the private room to handle the situation.

Outside the restroom, a unisex lounge echoed with soft jazz. A mirror stretched across one wall, with a marble vanity beneath it, flanked by flower arrangements filled with dried blooms. The left door featured an abstract profile of a gentleman, while the right showed an abstract umbrella.

Renée leaned against the counter, her suit jacket removed, leaving only a black dress shirt. She had a model-like figure—slender and long-limbed. Her frame was taller and broader than that of the average woman, making her a natural clothes hanger. With a binder underneath her shirt, no one could tell that "René" was a woman.

Nanda, in a red strapless dress with an asymmetrical hem, held Renée's black jacket in one hand. She bent over the counter, trying to use a stain remover pen to clean the wine stains.

"I mean, René, why not just take it to the dry cleaners? Scrubbing it like this is a waste of time, and it won't even get fully clean."

"I knew I could count on you, Nanda. You always treat me the best."

Nanda sighed exasperatedly and tossed the jacket aside.

"Aren't you slacking off again? Tonight's guest specifically asked for you. If you keep ignoring them like this, do you even plan on making tips?"

Renée didn't answer. Instead, she simply glanced toward the corner, where Min was watching them from the shadows. He must have followed Renée out of the private room and had been standing there for a while.

Their gazes met. She flashed him a smile.

Caught like a child doing something wrong, Min looked embarrassed. He walked over, deliberately avoiding Renée. His eyes landed on the exposed skin between the crisscrossing straps of Nanda's backless dress, which dipped low to reveal even the small dimples at Nanda's lower back.

Nanda, sensitive to Min's gaze, let out a playful giggle and shifted her body just enough to accentuate her curves.

Min smirked, shot Renée a defiant look, and with a swift motion, pulled Nanda in for a kiss—dominant, intense, and utterly provocative.

Nanda responded eagerly, her hands resting on his shoulders as their lips and tongues intertwined.

Renée tactfully stepped away, a flicker of amusement crossing her mind.

Back in the private room, Min had completely ignored the hostess sitting beside him, casting those judgmental looks at Renée, as though he were above it all. But in the end, he simply hadn't found a prey he liked. 

Men—were all the same.

Renée changed into a fresh suit at the annex and walked back toward the private room. As she passed the entrance, she caught sight of Nanda following the young man out. For some reason, she felt a little disappointed.

Inside the private room, Thiri was drunk. She leaned into Renée, her entire weight resting against her, fingers reaching up to trace her face.

"René, your skin is so smooth. Smoother than a woman's."

Silas and the other men, now freed from the awkwardness of having Thiri around, started joking and flirting with the hostesses, their hands wandering without restraint.

"Ms. Zaw, if you like René, why not take him home tonight?"

Thiri, cheeks flushed, laughed softly, lifting her head from Renée's shoulder. There was a glimmer of desire in her gaze.

"Sorry, I don't sleep with clients."

The words were spoken lightly, almost as if they had floated up from beneath the earth. But they were enough to silence the entire room.

One of the men, clearly drunk, spoke without restraint. "You're a man. It's not like you'd be at a loss. What? You think Ms. Zaw is too old for you?"

Renée lowered her gaze and quietly replied, "I wouldn't dare."

"Name your price." Silas's expression darkened.

"Sorry, I don't sleep with clients." Her words, calm and unchanged.

"Stop pretending to be noble. If you want to act high and mighty, then get the hell out of here. Even if your title is 'gentleman,' you're still just a damn male escort, a gigolo. Ms. Zaw taking a liking to you is your damn luck. Learn to appreciate it."

Silas swayed as he tried to rise, but the two hostesses beside him quickly pulled him back down.

"René never goes out with clients. He's not good with words. He didn't mean anything by it. Please, let it go. If Madam Zaw really likes René, come visit him often..."

"Tell your boss to come. I don't believe I can't take this pathetic little man with me today. You should know who I, Silas, really am..."

"Even if Madam Hnin comes, it'll be the same."

Indeed, even if Madam Hnin had come, it would have been the same. In the end, Thiri couldn't manage to take René out of the club.

The gathering ended on an unpleasant note. Madam Hnin whispered something into Silas's ear, and the drunken man, brimming with insults, swallowed them all, though his face remained filled with resentment, unwilling to let it go.

As Thiri left, her gaze lingered on Renée, an unbreakable attachment in her eyes.

Renée, however, stood at the door, expression faint, simply nodding slightly in formal acknowledgment, offering no more than the standard "Hope to see you again next time."

🎩

"René, why won't you take private clients? You're a man—what are you afraid of? Or... is it that you can't perform?"

Renée smiled faintly, brushing away Nanda's hand as she persistently teased her.

"René, are you even a man? Any other guy would jump up the moment someone questioned their manhood—probably eager to prove themselves on the spot. But you? Nothing. Not even a reaction."

"Then maybe you should just stop thinking of me as a man." Renée replied calmly.

"Actually, you'd better stay a man. If you were a woman, how would the rest of us even survive? Honestly, how was your face even made?"

Nanda reached out to pinch her cheek, but Renée caught her wrist mid-air, cradling it gently in her palm. She kept smiling, silent yet unwavering.

This was Renée's most disarming weapon. No one could bring themselves to strike a smiling face—especially not one so breathtakingly beautiful, so effortlessly gentle. Not only did hitting her feel impossible, but even teasing her began to feel shameful.

"By the way, that guy who came out of your room last time—absolute perfection. I think I might be in love. That body... That skill... That thing, tsk tsk tsk... René, come here, let me check out your body, see how skilled you are. Come on—hey, why are you running?"

Renée slipped out of Nanda's room, the ghost of a smile still lingering on her lips. But as she turned the corner, she suddenly found herself face-to-face with someone unexpected—Thiri.

She was staring at her, utterly entranced.

"Madam Zaw," Renée greeted her, nodding with a polite smile.

🎩

The private room was spacious, filled with the blaring music from the television. The flashing lights from the screen cast a restless glow, yet somehow, the atmosphere felt lonely.

Thiri sat beside Renée, watching her in silence.

Renée peeled a tangerine and offered it to her.

Thiri took it absentmindedly, her gaze still fixed on Renée, but she made no move to eat.

Renée exhaled quietly. She had met reserved clients before, but usually, once the door was closed, the quietest ones turned out to be the boldest. Someone like Thiri—silent, alone—was a first.

Renée rarely took the initiative, but seeing Thiri frozen in place, she had no choice. Gently, she took back the tangerine, broke off a piece, and pressed it to Thiri's lips.

Juice trickled down the corner of her mouth. Renée reached for a tissue to wipe it away, but before she could, Thiri caught her wrist and pressed it against her cheek, rubbing against it lightly.

"Madam Zew?"

Sensing something off, Renée called to her softly.

Thiri snapped back to reality, quickly letting go, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face.

Renée only smiled and offered another piece of tangerine.

This time, Thiri accepted it—but once again, she held onto Renée's hand. Her voice was low, heavy with concern, like an elder advising a wayward child.

"René, don't stay here anymore, alright? You're still so young. There are so many better things you could be doing. Come with me instead. If it's money you need, I can give it to you. If it's a job, my company happens to have an opening. If you want to go to college, I know..."

Renée politely interrupted her. "Madam Zaw, I appreciate your kindness, but I'm fine here."

Thiri's grip tightened around Renée's slender wrist, distress creeping into her voice. "Look at you, so thin. Tell me the truth—are you even of age? Is that why they won't let you take private clients? Are they afraid of breaking the law?"

Afraid of breaking the law? They were the law in this city.

Renée shook her head. "I'm already of age."

She was already eighteen. Her eighteenth birthday was when her whole world turned upside down. The day she most wanted to forget.

"Then... are you being forced to stay? Exploited?"

Renée met Thiri's searching gaze, her smile soft, her voice unwavering. "I'm really fine here."

It was the time spent away from this place that had been the real nightmare.