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I need some privacy for an hour.
That was why I parked where I did.
My phone beeps with a message in my bag. Knowing exactly who it’s from, I reach in and pull it out.
It’s from The Decadent Agency. The people I’m willing to sell my soul to, to get the money I need to leave New York and go to UCLA next fall.
They’re a high-end escort service run by the same people who own the Dark Odyssey sex clubs in Chicago and L.A.
They make dark fantasies come true. I’m applying to be one of their angel dolls.
The position is mainly online work where you can do anything from selling nude pictures, doing naked videos, or even becoming an escort if the men you meet like you.
I came across them when I hit an all-time low and realized my life wouldn’t be mine again unless I did something to take it back. The problem, of course, in doing so is having enough money.
Chad couldn’t know just how badly I want to leave this place. I’m only here because Mom threatened to cut me off if I didn’t come.
If I leave now, the same threat applies.
In the interim, I’ve done as I’ve been told because of my dream to become a doctor. I can’t afford med school, and any student loan I’d get wouldn’t cover everything I need because of the specialist course I want to pursue.
Like my grandfather, I want to go into medical research and work specifically with childhood-related illnesses.
I hoped to reason with Mom but failed. That’s why I’ve taken matters into my own hands.
Besides, apart from going to college, I want to be in L.A. to support my father when he gets out of prison.
He’ll have to start over, and even though he’ll have a place to work, nothing will ever be the same again because the world knows what he did.
Dad stole millions to buy drugs and gambled the rest away in high-stakes poker games.
The court seized everything he owned in an attempt to repay some of the people he stole from. Because he was reckless, his assets also included my trust fund and everything my grandfather left me. That’s why I have nothing.
He’s the devil to those he hurt, but I’m his daughter. So I’m bound by duty to help him.
If I don’t go back, he won’t have anyone there who still loves him.
Now that I’ve decided I’m leaving, what worries me is doing this actual job.
God, who would have thought the daughter of a former billionaire and an A-List Hollywood starlet would have to sink so low as to sell her body?
Given my past and the way my innocence was stolen from me, I should feel dirty. I do. I’m just at the lowest level of desperation with no other way out.
I’ve thought of other ways to get the money I need but found none as effective, and the more time I spend doing nothing, the worse it will be for me.
The message from the agency is prompting me to activate my second-tier membership.
I got approval for the first tier last month, after my eighteenth birthday.
The application process was to send in a topless photo of myself, which I did. If the pictures got a certain amount of likes, they’d pay you and
take you on.
After ten thousand likes, my account got approved just before we moved from L.A. That was last week, and it gave me hope.
When three thousand dollars was deposited into my account just for a picture of my face and my tits, I pushed aside any reservations that would persuade me not to do it.
I’m not sleeping with anyone. I was clear about that from the start because at first they wanted me to.
