TROY

The ballroom glittered with gold light and fake smiles.

Billionaires, investors, politicians ...all pretending to enjoy each other’s company. I was only there because my assistant told me “My presence was quite important there.”

I stood near the balcony, holding a glass of champagne I had no intention of drinking. My mind wasn’t on the music or the meaningless conversations ... it was still stuck on that night. On her.

Helen?....

I hated how her name still echoed in my thoughts. She should’ve been forgotten like the rest. Yet, no matter how many deals I closed or events I attended, her face kept intruding like a stubborn ghost.Was feeling pity for her... Whether she'll end up in a monster hands that has no regards for a woman permission to access her body... Why do I even care?.

Then I saw her.

At first, I thought I was imagining it. But when she turned ...that same soft face, those same trembling eyes .. .I knew. It was her. Helen.

She was standing with an opponent .... my main opponent.

Ben Fane....the man I disliked most in this city.

Fane’s hand rested casually on her waist as he laughed about something. My chest burned with something that felt too close to rage.

What the hell was she doing with him? Once a whore, always a whore!

Before I even realized it, my hand tightened around the glass until it cracked slightly. My assistant looked at me in alarm. “Sir?”

“Handle the investors,” I said, setting the glass down. “I have something to take care of.”

And then I moved ... straight toward her.

Her smile faltered when she saw me. Ben noticed too, his grin twisting in amusement. “Well, well. Troy Stones. Didn’t expect you here tonight.”

“Clearly,” I said coolly, not taking my eyes off Helen. “Mind if I borrow your date for a moment?”

Fane chuckled. “She’s not—”

I didn’t wait for him to finish. I caught Helen’s wrist and pulled her aside.

“Sir...” she began, but I was already dragging her toward a quieter hallway.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice low and dangerous.

She tried to pull her hand free. “That’s none of your business...sir”

I leaned closer, my tone sharp. “It is my business when I find you with a man like Fane. You think this is a game? Do you even know what kind of filth he is?”

She glared up at me, surprisingly bold. “And what kind are you, Mr. Stones? The saintly billionaire?”

Her bluntness caught me off guard for half a second ... but I quickly masked it with a mocking smirk. “At least I don’t pretend to be innocent while selling myself to the highest bidder.”

Her eyes widened, hurt flashing there, but she refused to look away. “I’m here to work. That’s all. You told me to take your money and never come back ...remember? So I didn’t.”

The nerve of her. The way she said it ...so direct, so calm ... it made my anger rise even higher.

Before she could say another word, I caught her wrist again. “We’re leaving.”

“What? No! You can’t just...”

“I can,” I said coldly, signaling to my men. “Bring the car.”

“Troy—!”

“Don’t cause a scene.” My voice dropped lower, darker. “Unless you want every camera here to know who you really are.”

Her lips trembled, but she went quiet. I led her through the back exit, my assistant calling after me.

“Sir, the meeting...”

“Handle it,” I snapped. “I have something urgent.”

The ride to my mansion was silent. Helen kept her face turned toward the window, her reflection faint in the dark glass. Every few seconds, she’d glance at me .... then look away quickly, as if afraid of what she might see.

I couldn’t stop staring. Angry at her, angry at myself ... angry that I even cared.

When we arrived, I didn’t wait for her to get out. I grabbed her hand again, leading her inside.

The house was silent except for the sound of her heels against the marble floor. She stopped near the living room, crossing her arms. “You had no right to drag me here.”

I turned, eyes cold. “Then explain why I saw you at that party with Ben Fane”

She looked down. “Because the money you gave me wasn’t enough,” she said softly. “My mother’s surgery costs more. I had to go back. I didn’t want to, but I had to.”

I scoffed. “So that’s your excuse? Selling yourself to men like him?”

Her voice cracked. “You think I enjoy it? You think I want to live like this?”

Her words hit harder than I expected. I clenched my jaw, trying to stay angry ...but it wasn’t working.

She continued, tears gathering in her eyes. “You don’t understand. I’m doing everything I can to keep my mother alive.”

I took a step closer ....close enough to touch her. “Desperation doesn’t mean you have to throw yourself at anyone with money.”

She stared at me, defiant. “What else am I supposed to do?”

That question tore through me. I wanted to yell, to curse, to say anything that would make this feeling go away... the guilt, the frustration, the heat under my skin.

I leaned close until my voice was just above a whisper. “If you’re that desperate for money…”

She looked up at me slowly, her breath catching.

“…then you’ll work for me.”

Her brows furrowed. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said, stepping even closer. “You’ll sign a contract. For two months, you’ll belong to me.”

She blinked, stunned. “What kind of contract?”

I met her eyes, my tone ice-cold. “You’ll be mine. My personal companion. My...” I paused, my jaw tightening. “A sex mate, if that’s what you want to call it. And you’ll be paid for it.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” I said with a bitter smile. “But at least you won’t have to sell yourself to anyone else.”

She shook her head, stepping back. “You can’t just decide that for me.”

“I’m not deciding. I’m offering. You said you needed money. Here’s your chance.”

Her lips trembled. “And if I say no?”

“Then walk out that door,” I said coldly, pointing behind her. “And don’t ever show up at another man’s party again pretending you belong there.”

The silence stretched. She looked torn ... angry, hurt, and desperate all at once.

I could see the war in her eyes. Pride fighting with fear. Hope fighting with reality.

I crossed my arms, forcing indifference into my voice. “Think about it, Helen. Two months. Enough money to save your mother.”

She swallowed hard, looking away. “You’re cruel.”

“I know.”

Her eyes met mine again ...and for a moment, the anger between us burned into something else. Something dangerous.

Then she whispered, almost to herself, “Two months…”

And that’s where the night ended.

She didn’t say yes.

But I knew she was thinking about it.