Compulsion: A Dark Billionaire Romance (#hot_feelings #1)

by Caroline Day

  ‘Hey Lo!’ Susan catches me almost at the exit. ‘Take it,’ she hands over the tip she's earned.

  ‘What? No, you shouldn’t.’

  ‘You need money. Come on, take it,’ she puts the money into my pocket. That’s a bad idea. Bills can fly every which way.

  ‘Thank you,’ her sudden generosity makes me smile. Some people unwittingly help you without even knowing that you are in need, but, anyway, it makes me feel better.

  Well, I should get out of here. I'll get to my room, go to bed, and forget this terrible day, at least until the next morning when all the pile-up problems will fall upon me. Besides...

  ‘Sorry, it looks like I left my purse in the restaurant...’

  Guess who I'm running into at the doorway of a restaurant? No, this is not a mafia boss ready to lend me fifteen thousand!

  ‘Holy Jesus! Dolores Brown! Hi there!’ Alice throws her arms around my neck and pulls me into a hug. What? Why does she look happy? Alice Lasky gives me a hug! Am I sleeping? This is something new.

  ‘Hi there, Alice!’

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you here!’

  Is she drawling on purpose, or do I feel this way because tiredness after the long shift begins to take over me? At least she didn’t have a chance to see me in the waitress uniform and laugh at me in the restaurant! Well, OK, I’ve got enough hugs. It's time to get out of here until she starts teasing me.

  ‘Do you work here?’ Her gray eyes are shining with curiosity. ‘I saw you serving customers.’

  Damn it! I thought that I had been safe and successfully escaped her attention. How could she notice me?

  ‘Yes, I work here as you can see.’

  ‘Is your shift over? How about having a drink? Come on, I'll give you a ride home.’

  Just imagine this picture in your mind: The girl who once called me the smelly nymphet smiles at me in a friendly manner and invites me to have a drink. Am I awake? Or is this just a dream?

  ‘Well...’

  ‘Come on! The limo is waiting!’ she pulls me to the exit.

  I hardly believe in her sincerity and good intentions, until I see a luxurious white Hummer by the entrance. Alice gives me a broad smile. The dark-skinned driver politely opens the door, waiting for us. However, Alice is in no hurry to get into the car. She is looking at me attentively.

  ‘Come on! Why are you so shy?’

  I am not shy. My brother is dying in the hospital, I am short of money and terribly tired after the shift. Lord, I am done, I worked like a dog. And she wants me to hang out.

  ‘You know, I am tired to death, I can barely hold my eyes open. Let’s have a drink next time!’

  ‘No problem, we can have a drink in the car. I have a bottle of champagne. Come on, get into the car!’

  OK, I am sold. I get into the luxury vehicle at my own risk. For some reason, it looks like a nightclub on wheels. The lights are radiating all the colors of the rainbow, and dancing music is coming from speakers in the corners. We drive off but I can hardly feel it. It is impossible to sense whether the driver hits the gas or brake. I’d eagerly live in this limo.

  ‘Where do you live?’

  I give you the address of a hostel on the outskirts of London. It's a good neighborhood, but it's for common people, not for the rich like Alice.

  Alice gets a bottle of Dom Perignon from under the seat, hands it to the driver, and a few moments later he gives her back the uncorked bottle. Alice pours sparkling liquid into the glasses and says solemnly:

  ‘Well, let's drink to our meeting!’

  Sure, I missed you so much darling. We are big friends! I am a beggar with a bunch of problems, and she is a rich lady with a straight posture and a well-to-do boyfriend. I doubt that they are married since she doesn't have a wedding ring on her left hand. But she is get used to fine wine that costs my month salary per bottle.

  I sip the wine and immediately get drunk, while Alice swigs off her glass and still looks sober.

  ‘What a buzz. William is a nice boy,’ the girl says in a relaxed voice, shoving her blond hair back.

  ‘Hope you don't mean the Duke of Cambridge.’

  ‘Hope is all we have,’ she winks at me with her perfectly made-up right eye. ‘Relax, I am kidding. Anyway, William is sweet. He lent me this nice limo.’

  ‘I thought it’s your vehicle.’

  In response, she just bursts out laughing, her feet are high, almost on the seat, and a neat soft purple dress hiked up. Never thought that it sound like a joke.

  ‘I haven't made enough money yet.’

  ‘Then... Does William maintain you? Or maybe...’

  ‘Look, if you want to satisfy your curiosity, ask me directly. Yes, I'm dating William, and he's giving me lavish gifts,’ she points at the luxury interior of the limousine.

  ‘Oh, you are just dating, aren't you? I thought he is married.’

  Yes, I still remember the gold ring on his finger.

  ‘Actually, it's not your business. Why do you ask? Are you envious of me?’

  God, is she serious? Does she enjoy showing off and bragging to a poor loser? Does Alice try to claim that she lives a luxury life while lousy people work hard to survive? Or she is kidding?

  The stern face of Mrs. Thompson, sick face of Adam, and sympathetic face of Dr. Connor are flashing in my mind. And the news of my brother's complications makes me more angry and desperate. The slight booziness is immediately fading away, replacing with rage.

  ‘Stop the car,’ I say to the blondie, and she states at me in disbelief. According to movies, there must be a button to activate a speaker phone to communicate with a driver. Where can it be? I cannot find it.

  ‘What's wrong?’

  ‘I told you to stop the car! I don't want to stay here.’

  ‘Easy now! Don't get your panties in a bunch,’ she says, stroking my shoulders. I don't push her aside just for the sake of decency. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

  ‘It's great that you still remember.’

  Alice freezes for a while. Perhaps she remembers why they started calling me smelly Lolita. Judging by the furrowed brow and faded smile on her dolly's face, these memories haven’t disappeared from her bright head yet.

  ‘I admit it's my fault then as now. Sorry,’ she says suddenly. ‘Let’s just relax and enjoy our lives.’

  ‘Enjoy life? Really?’ I finally lose my temper. ‘My brother is in the hospital, I’ll be expelled from the University soon, and I have time to eat only in a restaurant and maybe drink tea in a Dorm! I need a big bunch of money by the end of the month, and I have no idea what bank to rob to save my brother's life!’ I start shouting without noticing it, and Alice's face falls a full inch, but I don't care. ‘I am screwed! If he dies... just like my parents... If I stay...’

  Damn it! A stupid lump in my throat! Why are you stuck there at the worst possible moment? Why do emotions overwhelm me, and I nestle my face in the shoulder of a girl who I’ve hated since my childhood and sob like a baby? I never cried. Never! Even at my parents' funeral, I, unlike Adam, didn't shed a tear. Well, maybe I cried, but just a little.

  I survived that grief, but now I feel like my world is falling apart...

  I feel soft hands stroking my head while I am sniffing into Alice Lasky's gorgeous dress. She probably did the right thing by taking off her newfangled vest. My tears would destroy the fur, and I should pay for it for the rest of my life.

  ‘Cry, it will make you feel better,’ she whispers, rocking me like a baby.

  ‘No, it won’t...’

  ‘If you pull yourself together now, I'll tell you where you can quickly get the money.’

  What? Money? Quickly? Could she borrow some money from her Cambridge prince? But all the questions should be left behind.

  I try to stop sniffing, wipe my eyes with a napkin from my bag, and stare at Alice. Once I hated and cursed that girl, but now she is my only hope to save Adam.

  ‘What should I do?’

&nb
sp; Alice surveys me from head to foot, but this time her glance is not excited as it was when we met but appraising. Her eyes are scanning me like a metal detector.

  ‘You have a pretty face, a nice slender figure,’ she mumbles under her breath. ‘Charlie, change of plans. Drive us to my place.’

  ‘Wait! Where are we going?’

  ‘We go to make a bunch of money.’

  Chapter 3.

  ‘Welcome to my mansion!’ Alice drawls a bit cheekily, letting me in.

  Well, her luxury two-story penthouse with gorgeous, modern style in the heart of London can be called a mansion. It looks like a photo on the front cover of a glossy magazine, like a common girl's dream that will never come true…

  I'm afraid to step on the perfectly polished floor and stain it with my dirty shoes, I'm afraid to foul the white leather sofa. It is scary to take a step into the unknown, which can change my life once and forever. She hasn’t explained anything, and various thoughts, opinions, assumptions – from the most banal to the most unpredictable – were tumbling in my head.

  Alice walks ahead of me into the living room and makes a move towards the home bar, which is located near the panoramic window overlooking the Thames, but stops midway, as if an idea suddenly stuck her. She plumped down next to me on the sofa. Yes, I put my butt there in the end.

  ‘Well, if you really need money, don't forget it for a second,’ she says in a surprisingly sober voice. She sounds like a mother giving instructions to her child. And I carefully listen to these instructions. ‘You should remember why you are doing it, why you do what you shouldn't do.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Listen to me. The main rule is not to be late and do your best to please your clients. One complaint, and you get popped out of business like a champagne cork. No one else will work with you, and you will be blacklisted.

  It's like working in a restaurant – the same rule applies to all employees, but I doubt that my friend wants to hire me as a chef. No, it has nothing to do with a restaurant business. Then...

  ‘If you are against extra services, tell it in advance, but then you’ll be paid less.

  ‘Extra services?’ I stare blankly at the serious face of the girl opposite me. What is she talking about? What extra services? What black list?

  ‘Butt stuff, blow job, threesome, sex toys, other stuff.’

  My slightly intoxicated mind begins to realize what exactly Alice is talking about. What she proposes to do for the sake of Adam. She wants me to do things that are condemned by society. I will never get a chance to justify myself!

  My eyes probably pop out of my head at that moment, and I can't say a word, unlike the blondie.

  ‘Don't make a face like that! It's a well-paid job!’

  ‘Do you suggest me to become a whore?’ I almost yell at her well-groomed face.

  ‘They call it escort, Lo. Whores are working on the streets, and escort is a different level.’

  ‘What's the difference?’

  ‘Money, duties, services. You can just accompany your client and earn a few pounds, or you can provide various sexual services and make three thousand at a time.’

  What? Three thousand? Men are willing to pay for it? Where did they get all this money?

  Alice was dealing not with an ordinary man today, and they weren't sharing a family lemon pie recipe in the closet.

  Should I do the same? Doing this in a public place? Under the table, like in the books? Or even worse – in front of everyone. My mind immediately goes to imagining that this same client undresses me in front of his friends, who are idly sipping five-hundred-pounds champagne, and then rapes me. And I can't resist. I just stand still, waiting for the nightmare to end.

  ‘How much do you need? Fifteen thousand pounds? You won't earn that much anywhere else so fast,’ Alice says. As we went to her place, I told her the amount that Dr. Connor had announced for my brother's surgery and rehabilitation.

  My brother’s exhausted pale face, bald head, tired sky-colored eyes, his lips whispering that we should stop fighting are flashing before my eyes. He doesn’t believe that he will survive.

  ‘You should remember why you are doing it.’

  ‘OK, I am ready. Where shall we start?’

  Alice smiles at me for a while, then turns serious again.

  ‘First, we have to make your portfolio. Take off your clothes.’

  ‘What?’ A sharp turn of events bewilders me. ‘I'm not going to do it!’

  ‘Really? What will you say when a client asks you to show your boobies?’

  Damn it! I didn't even think about it. How shall I behave with men? How shall I treat them? What shall I say? Do I need to talk at all or will I be immediately pinned to the bed and…

  I should better not to think about it.

  ‘Come on, I'll lend you some clothes.’

  The clothes were not meant to be a cocktail dress or a suit, but lacy lingerie. Corsets, bras, tanga panties and stockings attached to the belt. The lingerie looks gorgeous and expensive. Alice said that she had never put it on. I hope so.

  Honestly, this is the worst photo shoot in my life. Many girls dream that they would be groomed, beautifully dressed and shot from the most advantageous angle. I dreamed about it too. But it is far from what I expected. I'm demonstrating my butt in tiny panties in front of the iPhone camera!

  ‘Turn around. Hold your boobs with your hands,’ Alice orders. ‘Geez, Lo, don't be shy, you have great boobs!’

  Easier said than done. I could hardly take off my bra with trembling hands and freeze, weak and vulnerable, in front of my former enemy, and she asks me not to be shy! It’s a bit odd! Thank God, the photo shoot is finally over, and I can finally breathe out. I guess so.

  ‘Hey girl, you have great boobies! Men adore it. And your bottom looks great too,’ Alice admires, looking through the photos on her MacBook.

  Those pictures where my face is visible were immediately sent to the recycle bin, the others were filtered, corrected, and then uploaded to the escort website. There are thousands of applications, thousands of profiles and thousands of telephone numbers of escort agents.

  ‘Don't pay attention to these crooks,’ explains Alice, when I point at a profile of an agent. ‘They take half of your money and don't do a damn thing. Scammers! We can handle it ourselves.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Done.’

  The status of my application has changed. I have officially become an expensive prostitute named Donatella. Like Versace.

  ‘The first step is done. Now we’ll wait for the call. Are you sure no one of your acquaintances knows this number?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  OK, let's wait then. I still don't realize what I agreed to, and I can't quite grasp the idea that soon I will have to meet men and fulfill every their whims. We wrote a lot of information in my profile, offered a lot of services, although I was against it. I don't know if I can do it.

  But I have to. For Adam’s sake.

  ‘Look, you have a first client!’ the blondie rejoices and opens the message.

  Jared King: ‘You are very beautiful, Donatella. Let me brighten up your evening.’

  My crazy new life has started. There's no going back. I will either regain a happy family life my brother, or go into the burial pit with him.

  I take the girl's computer and text the fatal answer:

  I: ‘When?’

  Chapter 4.

  A shiver runs through my body, touching every cell. My knees are shaking, and my legs can't hold me anymore. I have no idea where to put my hands, how to behave, what to order. I try not to look around, not to look for him. I try not to think about the things I will do after dinner. Anyway, I know it very well.

  I came first, took my place in a separate room of the expensive restaurant and took the menu. What should I order? Should I do it at all? Should I better wait for my companion? I didn't ask Alice, and she didn't explain it. She said that everything would go i
ts own way, I just had to keep the conversation going and avoid eating too much. I should better eat later, at home.

  ‘Hello. Will you place an order or wait for your companion?’ a young waitress helps me to make the decision.

  ‘Thank you, I’d better wait for my companion,’ I give her back the menu with the strange names of the dishes.

  The girl gives me an appraising look, pays attention to the expensive dress from Alice's collection, which fits me nicely, and walks away with her chin held high. Now I understand why Alice mentioned envy.

  Ten minutes later, I ask for a glass of water, trying to calm my excitement and moisten my throat. I still hope that the meeting will not take place, that the man will cancel it, or... No, it won't do. I’ll never make money then. I have to relax, stop overthinking and avoid making plans for the future.

  ‘Donatella?’ a hoarse voice sounds over my head. It’s neither deep nor high-pitched. I would even call it nice. However, it makes me startle in surprise.

  My lungs absorb the smell of tobacco mixed with citrus notes. The fragrance is unusual but not disgusting. It might have been worse. The man leaves a wet mark of his kiss on my cheek and sits in front of me.

  I won't call him a handsome, but he looks fine. He is a bit chubby, with a pot belly, but it’s not too big. He doesn't look too fat, but he's old enough to be my father. I bet he looked great in his thirties, and now... Well, he looks fine.

  ‘Don't pay attention to his appearance, think about his money,’ Alice's words are emerging in my head, and I calmly exhale. This is my job.

  ‘Good evening,’ I greet the man politely. ‘Jared.’

  Phew, I remember the name!

  ‘I hope you did not have to wait too long.’

  Sure, it took me just a half an hour. I wonder if he's been looking at me from the corner for all this time, or whether he’s really late.

  The same waitress brings us the menu and wine list and leaves us alone, giving me another condescending look. Bitch! I'm already worried, and she's only making it worse.