The sound of my phone vibrating against the nightstand dragged me out of sleep. My head throbbed, my mouth was dry, and the sunlight streaming through the curtains felt like punishment. I groaned and reached for the phone.

Bella.

Her name flashed on the screen. I squinted at it, then pressed decline. Not now. My head was splitting open, and my memories from the night before were a blur.

I remembered the club. The drinks. The key.

Room 305.

And then…

I sat up too fast, my body protesting. The blanket slipped, and I froze.

I wasn’t alone.

The bathroom door opened, and steam poured out like smoke from a dream. He stepped into the light — tall, broad, and looking unfairly perfect for this hour of the morning. His hair was still damp, clinging to his forehead, and the towel slung low around his hips left little to the imagination.

My breath caught in my throat.

He didn’t even notice me at first, running a hand through his hair, his muscles moving with every small motion. He looked like temptation made flesh, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Then his eyes found mine.

Sharp. Cool. Disarmingly calm.

He tilted his head slightly, then — as if reading my thoughts — snapped his fingers. “Hey,” he said, his deep voice smooth but edged with amusement. “Back to earth, sweetheart.”

I blinked, mortified. “I wasn’t— I mean—”

“Didn’t get enough sleep?” he teased, one eyebrow lifting.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the heat crawling up my neck. “Didn’t get enough? Please.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying my flustered state.

I opened my mouth to fire back but stopped short when I saw the time on my phone. My stomach dropped.

“Oh my God!” I screamed, scrambling out of bed. “I’m going to be late! My first day at work!”

I dashed around the room, half dressed, half panicked, trying to remember where I’d tossed my shoes. I could feel his amused gaze on me the entire time.

He leaned casually against the wall, arms folded. “You sure you don’t want breakfast first? You look like you need something strong.”

“I already had something strong last night,” I muttered under my breath, shoving my foot into a heel.

He chuckled, that low, rich sound that made my pulse jump. I ignored it. I had no time — and no reason — to be flustered over a stranger. Especially him.

When I finally grabbed my bag, I reached inside, pulled out a wad of cash, and turned to face him.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

“I know my sister paid you,” I said, extending the money toward him. “So… consider this a tip for a job well done. Goodbye.”

His brows furrowed. “Wait—what?”

I forced a smirk, masking the awkward knot in my stomach. “You don’t have to be shy about it. Even call girls don’t usually admit what they do, so there’s no need to be ashamed.”

For a moment, he just stared at me. Then his expression shifted — disbelief, irritation, and something darker flickering behind his eyes.

“You think I’m a gigolo?” he asked slowly, his voice low and dangerous now.

I gave him a half shrug. “You were in a hotel room waiting for me. My sister arranged a surprise. Connect the dots.”

He took a step forward, his jaw tightening. “You—”

But before he could finish, I turned, grabbed my bag, and bolted out the door.

The elevator couldn’t come fast enough. My heart was racing, my mind spinning. I didn’t know if I was embarrassed, furious, or just plain confused. Maybe all three.

The moment I stepped outside into the crisp morning air, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I had no time to think about him — whoever he was. I had a new job to get to.

Still, something about the way he’d looked at me before I ran out haunted me. That expression — not one of guilt, but of shock.

---

My phone rang again.

Bella.

I sighed and answered this time. “Calm down, Bella, I’m absolutely fine.”

Her voice exploded through the speaker. “Vera! Where the hell are you? I’ve been calling you all night!”

I winced. “I told you, I’m fine. I just— I stayed the night at the hotel.”

“The hotel?” she repeated, her tone confused. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

I frowned. “The surprise you arranged? Room 305?”

“What?” she said sharply. “Vera, what do you mean, 305?”

“The room key you gave me at the club. You said you had a surprise for me—”

“Vera…” Her voice trembled. “I did arrange a surprise, but the guy texted me later saying you never showed up! He left hours ago!” and Vera…it's 503!

My heart stopped. “What?”

“I thought you changed your mind,” she continued, panic rising in her tone. “But Vera, if you went to a room — that wasn’t him. Whoever you were with last night, it wasn’t the guy I hired.”

My mind went blank. The blood drained from my face.

“Bella, are you sure?”

“Positive. I have the text messages! Vera, whose room did you go into?”

I couldn’t speak. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I remembered the door.

The golden number.

305.

But what if!...

Oh God.

I closed my eyes as the realization hit like a wave.

The man I’d spent the night with — the man I’d mistaken for a gigolo — wasn’t part of Bella’s plan at all.

I can't believe this! I ran back through the elevator and standing in front of the room I sighed… it was indeed 503…

What have I done, whoever I had a night with, I surely enjoyed it, and from his look, he looks absolutely clean and expensive for a Gigolo.

Vera!, let's see after work ok, I have something important to tell you, ‘Bella stated’.

Alright sis, I will give you a call as soon as possible.

I hurriedly went home and got ready for work, I still wasn't talking to Liam.

“Where have you been all night Vera, I was worried about you “ he said. I didn't even stop to look at him, I don't want to have a bad day at work.

I grabbed my car key and drove off.