MEGAN
I never thought I’d become a whore again.
I loathe that word—whore. It’s a cruel, vile thing to christen myself, but what else can I say I am if I’m about to sell my body?
It doesn’t matter which color I paint what I’m about to do, the truth is the truth, and nothing can change that.
Even if becoming a whore is my only chance of saving myself, this is the second time I’ve had to sell my soul to the dark side.
At twenty-seven years old, with a degree in Psychology under my belt, I honestly thought my life would be different now.
I also never expected to become a widow at such a young age or for my dead husband to be a fraud who screwed me over in every way possible when I inherited the half-million-dollar debt he left in my name.
I can’t even tell anyone the truth about him or the debt because I’m dead if I do.
I was warned not to trust him. I just never listened. Love blindsided me and made me the perfect pawn for Hunter’s game of lies.
Hunter Reid was my high school sweetheart and, for me, the one who got away. I wanted to believe he was the one good thing from my past that found its way back to me. But he wasn’t.
That’s why I’m here tonight on the doorstep of The Dark Odyssey, the infamous sex club those with money as old as dirt call the billionaires’ playground.
Owned by the Giordanos—an Italian mafia family—it’s nestled in the heart of one of Chicago’s busiest streets.
Tonight I’m going back through their doors as a returning staff member. After a two-year absence, I’ll resume my role as a special waitress.
Special, meaning one of the girls who you can book for anything. Literally anything.
I make my way up the sweeping marble steps to the club’s doors and observe tonight’s patrons under the moonlit sky.
The women are all dressed in sexy lingerie, while the men wear dress shirts and suits. Everyone has on the Venetian masquerade masks for the club’s customary party. These parties are held every night and are part of the dark fantasy of being here.
I make my way into the foyer and spot Mimi Giordano talking to one of the receptionists at the concierge desk. Mimi is married to Salvatore Giordano, one of the club owners. She takes care of the girls who work here.
She smiles when she sees me, and I do the same.
When I reach her, she gives me a hug that feels as sympathetic as her voice did when I called her the other day to ask for my old job back. I told her my husband had died and sounded like the grieving wife I played to everyone else.
The thing is, it’s not an act. I’m grieving for so many things, just not the reasons everyone believes.
“It’s great to see you.” Mimi’s smile brightens, and her long blond curls bounce as she nods.
“You too.”
“Come, let’s go talk for a little while.” She gestures to the elevator.
“Thanks, I’d like that.” I’m eager for the night to be over but not eager to start. With the contract I’ve signed, I could likely end up being some rich bastard’s sex toy. While that’s where the money is, and would have appealed to me in my younger days, I’m not that girl anymore.
This version of myself was en route to having a respectable career as a therapist. Now I don’t know when I’ll be able to get back to that.
We go into the elevator and get off on the third floor. Mimi takes me into her office, where she motions for me to sit on the white leather sofa by the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. It has a fabulous view of the Chicago skyline lit up by the city lights. I’ve always admired the view whenever I’ve been here.
She sits opposite me and sighs heavily, brushing her hair over her shoulders.
“I just wanted to talk to you properly before you start,” she begins. “How are you doing?”
“I’m… getting there.” My answer feels like more lies spewing from my mouth, but I don’t want her to think I can’t do the job. They have a policy here about being part of the fantasy. So you have to put on a show, regardless of how you feel.
“I’m truly sorry about Hunter.”