Prologue

I was stunned when my sister gave me the list of expenses she needs to pay in school in order to take the final exam. It was a long list of expenses... and all of them are very costly.

I bit my lower lip and turned to my sister. "When's the deadline of this? Can I pay this next month, Cathy?"

"It should be paid next week or else I can't take the final exam. It's a long overdue. Next week is the very last extension given to me." she said sadly.

I sighed worriedly. I'm afraid I can't pay it all by next week. I only earned little from my job and I still have to pay for my father's maintenance. He has not enough medicines for this week.

"I-I'll try to pay for this. I can't promise because we have a lot of expenses but... I'll try my best, okay, Cathy?"

She bowed down and started crying silently. My heart immediately ached at the sight of my worried sister.

"I-I really need to take the final exam or else I can't proceed next year. I'm so afraid right now, Stacey. I don't want to stop my study. I-I really need to take it..."

My heart ached more. I bit my lower lip and embrace my sister tightly. I want her too to take the final exam so bad. It pained me that I can't give her the assurance right now. The amount of her school's expenses will still take me a month to earn.

"I'll find a way, okay? D-Don't worry about it. I'll find a way."

I'm not confident if I really can find a way but I need her to not worry about it. She can take the exam... I need her to take the exam no matter what.

So, I grind more. My income alone from the small boutique I've been working wasn't enough for the expenses I need to pay for this week and the next— plus Cathy's final examination. So I apply the possible job vacancy around our town until I got accepted as a waitress in a expensive and classy club.

It feels uncomfortable at first because I'm not used with the intimacy of my working environment. But after few days, I get to adopt it.

I dreary dropped my head in the club's counter, feeling so tired and so exhausted after long hours of serving the tables. The bartender in the counter patted my shoulder in worry.

"You okay?"

I only nodded. Minutes of breathing and I was called again for another customer. I sighed heavily, pasted a smile on my face and immediately went to the tables.

"Good evening, Sir! May I take your order, please?"

I was late when I realized who was the customer in the table. My smile faded as I felt my body went cold. The man looked up to me, stared, and gazed my whole body with his obsessive and desireful stare.

"I came here for the same order," he answered in a deep baritone voice, emphazing the order he came with here repeatedly—not actually an order, but the service he wants me to do with him.