Society had never shown mercy to the weak, the ones without money. I refused to be one of them. While others might lower their standards for a few hundred bucks or a designer bag, I had always set my sights higher.
I had mastered the art of making men abandon their inhibitions, surrendering everything they had to me. The allure of the unattainable is unmatched and I was the epitome of a brand they could never possess so easily.
Dressed in a tailored suit and mid-heeled shoes, I quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind me with a soft click. Erwin Levine, my latest conquest, would likely not contact me for a week. But that was perfectly fine. I had already gotten what I wanted from him. And he was just one of many.
I had access to the finest luxuries, but I chose restraint. In my world, subtlety was the key to ascent. No one appreciated a show-off, especially not a woman who knew her worth.
On the surface, I wore the guise of a deputy director at a thriving advertising firm – a facade that served as a strategic bridge to the city's elite.
I hailed a taxi and headed to Inception Creative, my workplace. As I stepped out of the cab, I could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction. My carefully crafted facade was working flawlessly.
Men with means were unlikely to invest in a nightclub girl, no matter how alluring. But for someone like me, a successful woman in the business world, they could feed both their ambition and desire at the same time.
I had seen countless tactics men used to woo me, from lavish gifts to promises of power. Yoric Lawrence, the CEO of Inception Creative, was no exception. His company, valued at three million dollars, was a respectable start, but it barely scratched the surface of what I sought.
From the moment I joined the company, I could feel Yoric's attraction to me. To win me over, he'd promoted me from team leader to supervisor, then to manager and now, to deputy director. His intentions were clear to everyone, including me. But a mere deputy director was not my ultimate goal.
Yoric was merely a stepping stone. My true benefactor was Ryder Huxley, a man of immense wealth and influence, albeit married and only sporadically present at our shared villa. During his infrequent visits, I was his devoted companion, catering to his every desire.