It was the ninth year of our 'thing,' and Ethan announced his engagement. I hadn't even had a chance to ask for my severance pay yet, when he sent a super long message, basically saying: You're too low-class for my family. Staring at the screen full of his SnapChat messages and a string of sixty-second voice notes, a giant question mark floated above my head. Wait, I just treated you like an ATM. You actually thought it was real? Ethan must have binged too many rom-coms to think that. I came to that conclusion after professionally reading all thirty-seven of his messages. Otherwise, it's hard to explain why he’d think I had any feelings for him beyond his money. Of course, I'm not some cold-blooded creature. Feelings? Yeah, I'd had them before. In college, I was the one who pursued him. He was the campus superstar, smart, artistic, and most importantly, his hands were gorgeous. Long fingers, clearly defined knuckles, perfectly rounded nails, a healthy, rosy pink. I'm a hopeless hand-fetishist. And those gorgeous hands came with a clean-cut face and a 6'1" frame. I was practically drooling. Even if he had a mouth full of venom, I put up with his snarky comments and chased him for three years. Who hasn't done something stupid when they were young? Things took a turn two days before our senior year internship. As student body president, he was leading us on an investor pitch. A beefy, square-built investor, Mr. Biggs, clearly liked what he saw. He brought out all sorts of booze, obviously planning to get Ethan wasted and take advantage. Watching Ethan choke on his drinks, tears in his red-rimmed eyes, I don't know where I found the guts, but I grabbed a bottle and smashed it over Mr. Biggs' head. My college sports elective was shot put, by the way. That 'fun' night landed me a trip to the police station. I finally got out when Ethan's impeccably dressed butler came to pick him up, and I was just… brought along. It was late summer, early fall. The night breeze was cool, blowing away some of the alcohol fumes, and also my courage. After a few steps, my legs gave out, and I stumbled to the ground. God, for someone who'd been a straight-A, rule-following good girl for eighteen years, a police station visit was a huge deal. This time, Ethan didn't just walk away. He stood under the streetlamp, silhouetted against the light. I couldn't see his expression. But I still remember what he said. "Skylar, I don't like owing people favors. Whatever you want, I'll try my best to give it to you, except for…" Before he could finish, I stumbled forward to grab his hand. In my mind, I was supposed to grab his hand with teary eyes, crying out dramatically, "Besides you, I want nothing at all!" But I forgot about my jelly legs. My attempt to grab his hand turned into a desperate tug on his jacket, and the momentum pulled him into my arms, slamming him against the streetlamp. He braced himself over me, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth, so close I could count his eyelashes. His clean scent filled my senses, warm and dizzying, making my heart pound. He must have been stunned, not reacting immediately. When he turned his head, his lips landed squarely on mine. "Master Ethan!" Ethan's impeccably dressed butler let out a high-pitched shriek. It was hard to believe such a dainty sound could come from a six-foot-three, bearded man. And just like that, I became Ethan's 'girlfriend.' At least, in my mind, I was his girlfriend. And I became the poster child for the gold-digger who snagged a rich heir. Back then, everyone had something to say. Calling me a manipulative user, a pathetic hanger-on. I just tuned out the haters and kept enjoying my 'sweet' time with Ethan. Even if I shared my daily life in long essays and he only responded with a single "K"; Even if I saved up to buy him gifts, and he'd just toss them on the table, still wrapped; Even if I wasn't feeling well and wanted to say no, but seeing his displeased frown, I'd force myself to endure his touch, only for him to find me boring and leave me alone at the hotel… None of that mattered to me. When you're blinded by love, a hot guy gets a pass. Until I landed an offer from a major corporation, with a bright future ahead of me. I couldn't wait to share the good news with him. But he didn't even look up, eyes fixed on his computer screen, his finely articulated fingers tapping on the keyboard, each click like a hammer blow to my heart. "With your degree, getting into my family's company would be tough." "But you've been decent this past year, not too ambitious." "So, I'll arrange for you to join my company. The marketing department is crucial, and with my connections, no one will bother you." "Do a good job, and I won't shortchange you." His tone was exactly like a boss using PUA tactics on an employee. But my young, love-struck brain didn't catch on to his manipulation. Instead, I thought he was about to end things, and I panicked. I was pretty reckless back then, too, demanding like some heartbroken movie character: "What am I to you, really?"
He gave me a cold, condescending look, saying nothing, yet saying everything. In the end, he just walked away, and I cried so hard my hands shook. I didn't dare truly offend him. He wasn't wrong about one thing: good jobs are hard to come by. And a good job with connections? Even harder. Reality bites, and not using the connections I had would be plain stupid. I mourned my shattered romantic illusions for one night, then dutifully reported for work the next day. Others asked me: What's your relationship with Mr. Ethan? I swept up the last remnants of my shattered romantic illusions and simply said, "We're alumni." Ethan was pleased with that answer and took even better care of me. He took care of me so well, it eventually led to the bedroom. It wasn't complicated. Ethan's 'one that got away' got divorced. Ethan gleefully went after her, only to 'happily' get the shocking news that she’d remarried her ex and was expecting their third child. He got absolutely wasted. The next day was a crucial meeting with investors. If that deal didn't go through, the entire team's bonuses were gone. Watching our massive bonuses evaporate, everyone in the group was tearing their hair out. As 'Ethan's connection,' I was, of course, chosen to go 'talk sense into him.' I admit, when Ethan hugged me tight, his eyes misty with tears, I still felt a despicable flutter in my heart. Five years, from eighteen to twenty-three, weren't something you could just forget. He held me so tight, as if he wanted to crush my bones. Big, heavy tears landed on my shoulder, and his gasps mingled with my own as our mouths found each other. Tears are a man's best beauty treatment. Male beauty was just too tempting. I couldn't resist, and I indulged completely. When he called out his first love's name in my ear, I choked him. His eyes were bloodshot, and he pushed hard into me, grinding his hips. I was so into it, I even slapped him a few times, watching him gasp and plead. I honestly didn't even care that he was calling out another woman's name. The next day, I was woken by a splash of cold water. Ethan silently put on his suit, casually tossing me a freshly delivered, clean business suit to replace yesterday's, which was… covered in unidentified liquids. He buttoned the last button, then pointed to the bedside table. All the documents were already neatly arranged there. "If I don't see you in half an hour, don't bother coming in tomorrow." I jolted awake. Ignoring the bruises and bite marks he'd left on my legs, I quickly got ready, enduring the discomfort to stand by his side all day. Ethan didn't spare me a single glance the entire time. It wasn't until after work, when I couldn't hold on anymore and wanted to go home and rest, that he suddenly called out to me. "Skylar." My familiar name sounded foreign coming from him. His eyes had reverted to how they looked that night in our senior year—chillingly indifferent. "I always thought you were smart, honest, and knew your place." His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, his finely articulated hands making me distracted. "But yesterday… I hope you understand one thing." "A small slip-up between adults, as long as it's consensual, isn't something to be morally judged." Jerk. That word popped into my head, but I kept my polite smile. "I hope we maintain a purely superior-subordinate relationship at the company." Ha. My fists were clenched so tight. If I could, I would've repeated my 'heroic' act from when Mr. Biggs was trying to get him wasted. But reality bites, and my connections still depended on him. I nodded at him. "Okay, Mr. Ethan." He was still rambling on, then paused, choked for a second when he heard me, and stared at me with a strange expression. I rolled my eyes internally. What are you staring at? Never seen a gorgeous woman before? My future hung on him right now. I'd be insane to pick a fight. Perhaps my docile obedience pleased him, because after that deal closed, my bonus was five times what others got. All those zeros... I thought that kind of money only existed in Hollywood movies. So, all his dirty talk? My brain just translated it to: "Want Daddy's fat balance to fill your bank account?" Yes, I did. More than anything. From then on, Ethan and I maintained this purely 'consensual adult' relationship. From twenty-three to twenty-seven, my promotion speed was much faster than most. As a highly 'professional' and 'consensual' subordinate, I naturally met all my boss's needs. I even went above and beyond, always available, and kept him utterly satisfied.
For that, he even magnanimously allowed me to pick up documents at his house. Oh, no thanks. I politely declined. Being a good 'consensual subordinate' requires boundaries. Back then, I cherished my position. And the string of zeros on my paycheck. Sometimes Ethan would go crazy and make all sorts of unreasonable demands, but for the sake of my bank balance, I could endure it. Of course, enduring for too long without release would turn anyone into a lunatic. That's when Liam crashed into my world. I had just pulled two all-nighters working overtime with Ethan at the company. I was angrier than a pissed-off banshee. It's a known fact that when people are angry, they do impulsive things. My impulsive act was a 'weekend warrior' trip – an intense, last-minute climb up Mount Rainier. To make sure I didn't get stuck, I hired eight college-aged guides, telling them if I couldn't make it, they'd have to carry me. Liam was the most emotionally intelligent of the eight. The other guys kept subtly hinting for more cash. Only Liam didn't show such strong mercenary intentions. He was sweet-talker, actively bought water and snacks, and carried me up without asking for extra pay. After reaching the summit and watching the sunrise, I spent half an hour venting my frustrations about Ethan. Liam just stayed by my side, not bothering with the other guys yelling at him to come down for more gigs. He looked at me, his slightly downturned eyes gentle, like a puppy's. On a whim, I stroked his chin, thinking, if it's a 'consensual adult relationship,' and Ethan can do it, why can't I? Liam was quick to catch on, satisfying me completely. I praised his flexible tongue, and he practiced until his tongue could do incredible things. Whenever Ethan got on my nerves, I'd go to Liam, and a smile would return to my face. Liam was smart, always available, and didn't ask for a dime. Handsome, clean, and free? There was no reason not to take advantage. After a while, he even had the password to my place. Before I could even put down my phone, a pair of mischievous hands wrapped around my waist. Liam's chest pressed against my back, and a rather inappropriate part of him rubbed against my lower back. The next second, a hot kiss landed on my lips, mixed with steamy breath that made my face flush. "Sis, I'm all showered…" His mouth asked for my permission, but his hands were anything but innocent. "You've seen this month's physical report, Sis. I want…" Tiny kisses trailed from my lips down my back, and with a gentle push, I was knocked onto the carpet. Liam was the swimming team's star at his sports academy. Great core strength, incredible stamina. If it weren't for that, his measly $8,000-a-month income plus stipend wouldn't even qualify him for my 'hunting' criteria. The kisses on my back continued. This time, he unhooked my bra with his teeth, leaving a damp trail on my earlobe. "Sis, please?" His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked at me piteously. His tongue tied a knot in my pajama drawstring. Seeing me momentarily stunned, a hint of triumph flashed in his puppy eyes, and he smiled, looking exceptionally goofy. Tsk, little brat. He's quite the actor. If I hadn't already seen his contact note for me: "97, June 13, Gemini. Big tits, easy to fool, and down for anything." I might actually have fallen for it. I gave a light pinch behind him. His breathing hitched, hot air sprayed on the back of my neck, and with red eyes, he pinned me against the wall. "Sis, I can't take it anymore, Sis, save me…" I smiled without speaking, then choked his neck, making his eyes well up with tears. He hugged me tight, refusing to let go. Men under twenty-five were the best. Young and fresh. Plenty of strength and stamina. And free. Done and tossed. Leaving a red handprint on his perfectly sculpted butt, I opened my phone to order takeout. Another screen full of green messages. Ethan had called at least ten times, and his messages were a saturated bombardment. [Skylar, hiding won't help. There's no future for us.] [Don't even think about using past events to threaten me. You know the difference between us.] [Don't try to disrupt my engagement party.] … [?] [Why aren't you replying?] [Skylar, talk to me.] I slowly typed a question mark. He replied instantly. [Skylar, playing dead won't work. We're over. You’ll…] A flood of messages made my eyes swim. Anyway, my current savings could easily buy me a sweet two-bedroom apartment in a prime city location, fully paid off. Whether this relationship continued or not didn't matter. Taking a sip of the herbal tea Liam had brewed before he left, I replied with a single word: [Okay.] The next second, I downloaded and secured all records of transfers, then blocked and deleted him. The next day, I was pulled awake. Half-asleep, I slowly came to, only to see Ethan standing by my bed, his dark circles rivaling a panda's. His hollow eyes staring at me were like a snake's, chillingly menacing. I screamed, my voice hoarse. Ethan's eyes were bloodshot. He moved his lips, about to say something, when the door burst open and Liam rushed in. "Sis, don't be scared, I'm here!" He was wearing a basketball jersey, holding a bag of breakfast. My nail marks and a few suggestive bite marks were visible on his muscular chest.
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