"What's his name again?" she asked, grabbing for the card again.
I exhaled sharply. "It's right there. Didn't you see it?"
"You literally took it from me before I could read anything!" she snapped, snatching it back with a dramatic flair.
There was a pause.
"Damien Cole!" Amaya suddenly screamed, nearly making me jump out of my bed."
I winced and covered my ears. "Jesus, Amaya! Are you trying to deafen me or what?"
"Tell me... tell me he's a serial killer," I said breathlessly, my eyes wide and glittering like I'd just uncovered a national treasure.
She was already scrolling on her phone with one hand, still holding the card with the other. "Kayla. Damien. Freaking. Cole. Do you even know who this is?"
My heart sank. "Please don't say he's on some FBI wanted list..."
Amaya frowned. "No, she gasped. He's... he's a doctor. He owns the largest hospital in Los Angeles. He is super reclusive. He's also a billionaire apparently, a philanthropist."
I blinked slowly. "And you know this how...?"
"I stalk rich people for fun when I'm bored. Don't judge me."
And besides, "Damien Cole is my role model! I love him so much!"
Amaya said.
I stared. "What?"
"Yes! Don't tell me you don't know him!"
I dropped onto my bed, my mind a tangled mess. "Well I mean, his face did ring a bell when I saw him."
Amaya's eyes widened. "Wait, wait. Are you telling me Damien Cole is the one you spent the night with?"
I hesitated, my fingers curling into the sheets. "Yes, but it wasn't what you thought. We didn't have sex. Just a little romance."
Her mouth fell open like she'd just won the lottery. "Wow! You're so lucky! But hold on, didn't you also spend the night with Seth Nikolai like three days ago?"
I nodded slowly. "Yeah."
I had recognized Seth the moment he walked into the bar. He was everywhere in news headlines, social media, flaunting his wealth and his endless rotation of women. Everyone knew who he was. He treated me like just another body. And honestly, that's what I was to him. That's what I was to most of them.
But Damien Cole was different. He didn't treat me like that. Not even close.
"Why did he ask you to be his daughter's mom?" Amaya pressed. "And you rejected it? Girl, I don't think you understand what you're walking away from."
She suddenly got up. "Where's your laptop?"
I pointed toward the drawer. "There."
She pulled it out and flipped it open, fingers flying across the keyboard. A moment later, the screen glowed with search results.
"Ohhh," she breathed, reading from the screen. "So he's divorced. That explains why he needs someone to play a mom role for the school event."
I stared at the hot photos of Damien Cole on screen. The profile said everything. A surgeon, CEO, and billionaire.
"So," Amaya leaned in, her voice low and tempting, "I guess you'll consider the offer now?"
I shook my head. "It's just for a day or two. And that's exactly why I won't do it."
"Why not?"
"He's a billionaire. He could have anything he wants. Someone way better to play the role of his daughter's mom. Don't you think he has a motive behind all of this?"
Amaya blinked, her voice softer now. "Maybe he just wants to help you."
"He already did," I said bitterly. By paying me three times my normal fee."
Her eyes fell to the card again, her fingers trembling as she clutched it.
"Come on, Kayla," she pleaded. "Just go for it. Please."
"I said no." I sat up and reached for the laptop, slamming it shut. "Now go and thrash that card away. No further arguments."
"Okay, fine!" she snapped, storming out with the card clutched in her hand.
I let out a heavy sigh and sank back into the mattress, pulling the blanket over me. And finally, exhaustion seeped into my bones. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
It was Saturday morning.
After serving our bedridden mother breakfast, both Amaya and I got to work around the house. I focused on cleaning the living room while Amaya took charge of the kitchen. The quiet hum of chores filled the small apartment.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang twice.
I wiped my hands on a cloth and rushed to the door, expecting it to be our neighbor, Mrs. Kelvin.
But the moment I opened the door, I froze.
Two large men in sleek black suits and dark sunglasses stood there. They were built like security guards or something worse. Their presence filled the small corridor like a looming shadow.
"Good morning," one of them said, his deep voice echoing in the hallway.
I instinctively took a step back. "Wrong address," I mumbled, starting to close the door.
"Are you Miss Kayla Matthews?" the taller one asked.
My hand froze on the doorknob. "Y-Yes," I replied cautiously.
"Good. Are you ready to leave now?" he asked.
"Leave? Leave for where?" I demanded, eyebrows furrowed.
"You agreed to meet Mr. Damian Cole today at 11 a.m. You accepted his offer," the second man explained calmly. "You also gave him your home address so we could come pick you up."
My heart raced. "What the hell are you talking about? I never called him. I never agreed to anything. I never" but stopped mid-sentence.
My eyes widened in sudden realization.
I hadn't thrashed the card myself.
"Amaya," I whispered, the name like a warning on her lips. Then louder, "Amaya!"
I dashed back into the living room, calling Amaya's name again with fury and disbelief.
Damian Cole.
Meanwhile, in my penthouse mansion, I sat with my back pressed into the leather chair. I was going through her information now. Her name stared back at me from the screen like it was daring me to admit what I already knew.
I exhaled sharply and set down my half-full glass of wine.
"I can't believe I'm only going through her information now," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I should've done this before I even made the damn offer."
The guilt gnawed at me. I stared blankly at the wineglass, the deep red swirling like the mess I was sinking into.
"I'm such a bad father."
The only reason he'd made the offer to her was for a school event. And it's a one-day thing since I can't find anyone to do the job for him. So my intention was to pay her, get it over with, and go our separate ways. That was the plan. She seemed calm and pretty. I noticed something in her that night... a heaviness, maybe even resentment toward her job. That was one of the reasons I didn't have sex with her.
When she called to accept the offer after shutting me down so strongly the first time, I was stunned. She didn't even sound mad even though I'd slipped my card into her bag without asking.
"Why did she change her mind?" I murmured aloud.
Before I could dig too deep into that thought, a small voice knocked me out of it.
"Daddy, may I come in?"
