“Let me lay out the pros and cons! If you marry me, I’ll give you 16,000 dollars a month. You can’t earn that much as an escort, right? And after marriage, you can do whatever you want, except keep working as one.”
I spoke earnestly. “Just keep up appearances, and the rest is up to you! It’s a sweet deal. What do you say?”
The man fell silent, his gaze narrowing slightly, a dangerous edge in his voice. “Do you even know who I am, propos- ing marriage like this?”
“Why does that line sound familiar?” I thought.
My head spun from the
from the
my legs wobbling. I clung to his neck for balance.
“Stop acting like that creep earlier! You’re Humberto, aren’t you? Just answer, yes or no?”
His eyes darkened as I looped my arms around his neck. He steadied me with one hand, jaw tightening. “You’re wast- ed. Marriage talk happens when you’re sober.”
“I’m not drunk!”
I was sober.
Panicked that I’d lose my nerve, I insisted, “I mean it! Humberto, do you not want to?”
He sighed. “It’s not that. But think carefully, your engagement to Jayvon is public. Marrying me so suddenly will ruin your reputation.”
“Is he worried his ‘escort‘ status would shame me compared to Jayvon?” I wondered.
Touched, I protested, “I don’t care about your job! I’ve already thought it through. Jayvon has his own ‘true love‘. Even if I break off the engagement, everyone will blame him. I just want to cut ties for good.”
I stared at Humberto pleadingly. “Help me out. Marrying me isn’t a loss. I’m the Lucero family’s heiress. Rich, decent- looking, and you’ll get paid! If you hate it, we can divorce anytime!”
His face darkened at my first words, then grew stormier still. He stayed silent, though what he was wrestling with, couldn’t tell. Finally, he nodded.
“Fine. Let’s get married.”
“Yes!”
I jumped up, giddy with relief.
Slumping against the bar, I shouted to the bartender, “Two more of the same!”
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Humberto frowned, gripping my wrist. “You’re drunk. Stop drinking.”
“I’m celebrating! Don’t ruin it!”
I shook him off and downed another glass, slurring, “Finally ditching that jerk, Jayvon deserves a toast! Drink with me!”
I dragged him onto the stool beside me and shoved a drink his way.
He gave in, taking a few sips.
Under the bar lights, his every movement exuded restrained elegance. Even lifting a glass looked mesmerizing.
This husband of mine was perfect.
Of course, I drank too much.
The next morning, I woke in a strange room. Soft sheets clung to my skin. Above, a glittering ceiling stared back.
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