đ Not for readers under 18. She was broke, burdened, and desperate⊠until she met Valerius. A mysterious billionaire with an offer too tempting to refuse: luxury, power, pleasure, if she agrees to be his sugar baby. But Valerius isnât just a man. Heâs a vampire. And with every kiss, every climax, he feeds not just on her desire, but on her soul. Because heâs not just spoiling her. Heâs claiming her.
View MoreRain tapped against the diner windows like impatient fingers. The neon sign buzzed faintly overhead, casting a sickly red glow on the cracked tiles. Chloeâs hands, wrapped around a chipped coffee mug, were trembling, not from the cold but from exhaustion.
She hadnât slept in two days. Her motherâs medication had run out three nights ago. And the rent was overdue by a week. Again. Her sneakers stuck slightly to the greasy floor as she moved behind the counter. The smell of burnt coffee and fryer oil clung to her clothes, her skin, her hair. Her back ached from the double shift, but she couldnât afford to leave early not when this weekâs tips were barely enough to cover the electric bill. âChloe,â barked her manager from the kitchen, âCustomer on table six. Move.â She forced a smile onto her face and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She looked older than twenty-two. Life had worn her down early. No college. No safety net. Just her mother Paralyzed from a stroke, her body frozen in time but her eyes still sharp with sadness and an endless string of minimum wage jobs that never lasted long enough. Table six was a man in a suit too expensive for this part of the city. His fingers drummed against the menu, arrogant and slow. He didnât look up when she approached. âWhatâll it be?â she asked, pen poised. He glanced at her, gave her a slow once-over, then smirked. âYou take tips in cash, or⊠other ways?â Chloe blinked. âExcuse me?â He leaned in, breath sour with liquor and power. âIâm just saying, you could make more in an hour with me than you do here all week.â Her grip on the pen tightened. Behind her eyes, she saw her motherâs face, pale, silent, waiting for medicine they couldnât afford. She forced her jaw to stay still. âOrder something,â she said flatly, âor leave.â He laughed. Loud. Ugly. âDonât be stupid, sweetheart. Women like you arenât made for real work.â The mug in her hand slipped. Coffee splashed across the table, right into his lap. A second of silence. Then he stood, flinging the cup aside. âYou stupid bitch!â The slap never came. Her manager stormed over, apologized profusely to the man, and turned to her with fire in his eyes. âYouâre done, Chloe. Out. Now.â She didnât argue. Just pulled off the apron, threw it on the counter, and walked out into the rain. Her sneakers were soaked by the time she reached the bus stop. The streets blurred under neon lights. Her fingers ached from the cold, but she didnât cry. She couldnât afford the luxury. Her phone buzzed, a reminder from the pharmacy. Prescription ready: $146.32. She had twelve dollars in her wallet. Chloe sat down on the cold bench and finally let herself exhale. Sheâd promised her mom sheâd fix everything. Now she couldnât even buy her seizure meds. She stared at her reflection in the bus shelter window. Hollow cheeks. Dark circles. Hair tied in a messy bun. Her shirt still smelled like grease. She looked like a girl holding on by a thread and that thread was fraying. Across the street, a flickering sign caught her eye: Horizon Staffing Agency â Work Today, Paid Today. It wasnât much. But it was something. She crossed the street without thinking, ducking under the broken awning as lightning split the sky behind her. The office smelled like stale perfume and toner ink. A woman sat behind a white desk, her lipstick a perfect, bloody red. She looked up as Chloe entered wet, desperate, clutching her purse like it held her life. âLooking for work?â the woman asked smoothly. Chloe nodded. âAnything. Please.â The womanâs eyes flicked over her assessing, almost hungry. Then she smiled, slow and secret. âHmm. Most jobs are booked today. ButâŠâ She opened a drawer and pulled out a sleek black envelope with a gold embossed crest, an old world symbol that looked like a serpent coiled around a rose. âWhatâs that?â Chloe asked, wary. âA private client. Extremely wealthy. Very⊠selective. He only hires through us. Youâd go tonight. No experience necessary. And the pay isâ⊠the woman leaned forward âsignificant.â Chloe hesitated. âWhat kind of job is it?â The woman tilted her head. âHe likes companionship. Someone to talk to. Someone to⊠listen.â Chloeâs heart pounded. âSo itâs⊠sex work?â The womanâs red lips curled. âNot quite. He doesnât want your body. Not in the way youâre thinking. He wants something deeper.â The words sent a strange chill through her. âHe will explain,â the woman said, and slipped the card into her hand. The address was embossed in gold. No name. No phone number. Just a time: Midnight. Chloe stared at it. The paper felt heavy. Luxurious. The gold shimmered in the fluorescent light. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned it over, hoping for more information but the back was blank. âWhy me?â she asked quietly. âYou just met me.â The womanâs smile deepened. âBecause he asked for someone like you.â Like me? Chloe opened her mouth to question it but the woman was already typing again, disinterested. The conversation was over. She walked out into the night, clutching the black envelope against her chest. The rain had slowed, but the air was still heavy. Electric. She looked up at the sky, gray, churning, almost alive. Thunder rolled in the distance. Somewhere behind the clouds, the moon was watching. Midnight was four hours away. And something deep inside her whispered: This is the moment your life changes forever.The restaurantâs low golden lighting shimmered against polished wine glasses and flickering candles, making the whole space hum with warmth. Diana and Emma sat across from each other in a quiet corner, sharing a plate of appetizers. Their conversation flowed easily, half laughter, half the kind of quiet confessions that came when the world outside seemed far away. Emma lifted her glass with a smile. âYou know, Iâm still not used to this, being spoiled with dinner dates instead of takeout on the couch.â Diana grinned, leaning forward on her elbows. âAnd you deserve every bit of it. Besides, I like watching you light up when youâre somewhere special.â Emmaâs cheeks flushed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking down at her plate with a soft smile. But before Diana could tease her further, a voice interrupted. âEmma? Diana?â Both women turned, surprised, to see Noah standing a few feet away, his tie loosened from a long day but his expression bright with recognition. H
The air between them thickened with anticipation, charged with the unspoken promise of what was to come. Zoeâs heart quickened as Melindaâs hand slid into hers, pulling her gently toward the bedroom. With each step, their bodies brushed against each other, a thigh here, a hip there, heightening the tension that had been building all evening. The room seemed to shrink around them, the world narrowing to the space between their skin. She closed the door behind them and immediately pulled Zoe into a passionate kiss, their bodies pressing together. Melinda's hands roamed over Zoe's curves, sliding under her top to caress the smooth skin of her back. Zoe moaned softly into the kiss, her own hands tangled in Melinda's dark hair. Breaking away, Melinda quickly divested Zoe of her shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath. She leaned in to place hot, open-mouthed kisses along Zoe's neck and collarbone as nimble fingers worked the clasp of her bra. It fell away and Melinda cupped Zoe's full
Zoe sat at the little bistro table in the corner of Melindaâs apartment, the morning light slanting across her face. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her coffee cup, spinning it slowly. She looked small, almost swallowed by her oversized sweater. Melinda was perched on the counter, legs crossed, scrolling idly through her phone until she realized Zoe hadnât spoken in several minutes. âYouâre quiet,â she said softly. âWhatâs going on in that head of yours?â Zoe let out a shaky laugh. âChloe gave me that restaurant,â she said suddenly, as if the thought had been sitting at the edge of her tongue, waiting to spill. âAnd I⊠I donât think Iâm going to open it.â Melinda blinked, lowering her phone. âWhat? Why not? Thatâs been your dream for, like, forever.â Zoe stared down at her coffee. âI know. It should feel like a dream. But right now⊠it feels like a weight. Like another thing Iâm supposed to handle when I can barely handle myself.â Melinda slid off the counter and came clo
Angela nudged Chloeâs door open with her elbow, a small lunchbox balanced carefully in her hands. âHere,â she said softly, setting it down on the dressing table. âI packed you breakfast so you can eat something at work. I know you said thereâs a problem there today⊠so at least donât go on an empty stomach.â Chloe, halfway through buttoning her blouse, glanced at her mother in surprise. Angela straightened the box, fussing with it as if she needed something to do with her hands. âIâll get out of your way,â she added quickly, already turning for the door. âMom⊠wait.â Angela froze, her hand hovering near the knob. She looked back, eyebrows raised. Chloe hesitated, biting her lip. Then she took a deep breath. âI⊠I need to apologize.â Angela blinked. âApologize?â âYes.â Chloeâs voice was unsteady but honest. âFor how Iâve been with you lately. For shutting you out. For making you feel like I donât care about your happiness. I was wrong. Iâve just been⊠angry, and scared. I didnât
Chloeâs chest heaved as she stared at him. âLucius, what are you even doing here?â Her voice cracked, raw with the edge of what Alexa had just left behind. He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. âCalm down, princess. I asked whatâs wrong, not whether you want to bite my head off.â His tone was light, but his eyes⊠were sharper, watching her too closely. She huffed, turning away toward the railing. âItâs nothing. Just⊠nothing you need to care about.â Lucius stepped closer, boots scuffing against the stone, until she felt the brush of his presence behind her. âSee, thatâs where youâre wrong,â he said softly, almost a whisper at her ear. âIf it can make you this angry, this shaken⊠then itâs exactly something I should care about.â Chloe swallowed hard, fighting the sting in her throat. âI donât need your games tonight, Lucius.â His laugh was low, amused. âOh, sweetheart, I never play games. Not when it comes to you.â He leaned on the railing beside her, his s
The party carried on, laughter and music swirling around the room, but Chloe couldnât focus. Her eyes tracked Alexa like a hawk, every step she took feeling like an intrusion on sacred ground. She half-expected Zoe to notice and ask questions, but Zoe was still wrapped up in hugs and chatter, her joy bubbling too brightly to be dimmed. Chloe forced herself to swallow her anger. Tonight was Zoeâs night, not a battlefield. Then Alexaâs gaze found her. Smooth, calculated. She walked over, the room parting unconsciously as though even joy itself wanted to step aside. âChloe,â Alexa said softly, almost too soft, as if she knew exactly how to disarm her. âIâm not here to cause trouble. I just⊠I need to talk to you.â Chloeâs jaw tightened. Her instinct was to snap, to demand what the hell Alexa was doing there. But with Zoe watching from across the room, glowing and happy, she bit it back. âFine,â Chloe said through gritted teeth, forcing a thin smile. âLetâs go.â She set her drink do
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