CONTRACTLY, IT'S YOU

"I'm sorry, Tiffany, there's nothing I can help you with. Your mother's bill has been due for six months. I'll advise you to take her home instead of letting her stay here. It would cost you lesser," Dr Darcy said.

I pinched my hands anxiously. I don't stay alone. I live with Noami, my best friend, while she's a full-time worker at Law and just a law firm. Nine years ago, she took my mother and me in when we had nothing. I worked hard trying to get a job, and being offered to work as a stripper was my only option, so I took it. I never thought my mother would fall sick. I had spent all my savings on her surgery, and here I am, starting from square one.

I looked at Dr. Darcy- also the director of Sun Nursing Home. "Can you give me two weeks? I promise to pay everything a month in advance, just two weeks." I pleaded.

I walked out of Sun Nursing Home, wondering where I would get fifty-four thousand dollars from. Oh wait, I promised to pay a month in advance, fifty-four plus nine thousand. My feet stopped once I had calculated it on my smartphone. Sixty-three thousand dollars? I sat on my knees, as I couldn't hold the tears anymore. Other expenses flooded in house rent, food, gas, water, my drugs, my mother's, and so on. Later that night.

"Hey!" I felt a hand hit my butt. I looked back.

"Oh, Abigail." I sighed.

"Didn't you say you're under the weather?" She asked. I smiled at her. I knew I had to make money one way or the other. Crying at home wouldn't do me much, so I decided to come to work despite the bills that kept singing in my head. "I feel better now. I guess I overreacted over the phone," I swallowed, looking away and staring at my reflection in the mirror. I didn't hate stripping, but I wanted to stop it by all means. I had a dream to move to the countryside, buy a house there, a car, and a dog, and probably listen to jazz and live my life until I grew old. Life doesn't work that way because I can't just live. I need to eat and do other necessities a human needs to live. My whole life, I had been surviving instead of living. When did I get to live?

"Whatever, see you outside," Abigail said, smiling and walking out of the dressing room.

I sighed. I raised my head, pushing the tears back in. Once I had succeeded, I looked at myself in the mirror. "God, whatever good thing happens at this club, let it happen to me alone," If this was me being greedy, I accepted. "Whatever, bad thing happens in this club tonight. Don't let it come to me, and I have too much on my plate already,"

I adjusted my yellow mini-gown and opened the door. "Ah, thank goodness, Tiffany," Bigbaby grasped my arms. No one knows her real name. She was only identified as Bigbaby. She's the manager of the club.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. I watched her catch her breath like she had just finished running a marathon.

"We have a client, a private room," she whispered. I moved closer, hoping I didn't hear her. Did she say private room? Six years as a stripper, and I have never been invited to a private room or had any particular client. "He asked to bring him ladies, but he keeps rejecting them. He paid a huge amount that I don't intend to refund. Why don't you try your luck?" She winked.

Whoever he was, or whatever he wanted. I hope he gets to choose me. Big baby's words kept singing like a lullaby in my head.

"I will," Bigbaby dragged me and made me change into something more revealing. Birkins.

I opened the door of room ten, where he happened to be. My anxiety was kicking in. I could feel it, my hands becoming sweaty. It was like a one-time offer. I better not miss it. Quietly, I walked to the dance floor. I raised my head and almost gasped at the incredible-looking man sitting on the red couch.

He was packaged in a black suit, blue eyes, and dark hair. He looked tall, and I could barely tell his height as he sat majestically. He wasn't ordinary. The watch on his wrist cost almost a million dollars. His sitting posture and the way he held the glass of whiskey, this man was filthy rich.

I looked away and held the pole, about to start, but his deep, coarse voice startled me. I staggered, losing my balance on my heel.

"Take them off," he said. I glanced around.

"Excuse me?"

"Your shoes, take them off, and come." He tapped his lap. A lap dance? I nodded, obeying him. I took off my shoes and walked towards him once I was done. Whatever it was, I was willing to do.

He dropped his drink and relaxed on the couch, giving me access to his lap. Once I sat on him, the music stopped. I stared around, confused.

"I think there's a problem. If you allow me, I can check what's wrong," I was about to move when he pulled me back.

"And if I don't?" His hand grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer.

I took a shallow breath. "I'm confused. What do you wan―"

"Take this off," he ordered, staring at my bra. I looked down at my tits and furrowed my brows. He must be insane.

"Sir, I am not here to have sex with "

"Fifty thousand?" He spat, completely shutting me off. I stared at the roll of money on my tits. That looked so much like my mother's bill. My brain had completely blacked out. "A hundred?" He dumped another bundle on my thighs as he waited for my reply. Another hundred? Or perhaps he pulled out a black card. My hands moved before I could think, unbuckling my bra. Anything, I said to myself. Anything at all to get that money for my mother's bill.

He smiled, not even staring at my tits. "Put them back on. You can dance for me now,"

"What? Is this a scam?" It finally hit me he just wanted to look at them and not have sex.

"Take the money, it's yours, and I also paid for your dance services. You don't want to do that?"

"Oh," I got off his body. All this while, he never took his gaze up. I adjusted my bra, taking the money, hoping he wouldn't take them back. I took a sneaky peep at him, and he only stared at his phone while sipping his drink.

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He did the same while I danced for a whole thirty minutes. He never paid attention. Suddenly, he got up and walked towards me.

However, I didn't stop dancing, and I continued until I heard him speak. "Do you want to marry me?" I choked on my saliva, clinging to the pole as I was about to fall. What madness. Was this about the money he just spent? "Marry me for two years," I am more convinced this man is crazy. I didn't even know this name.

"Sir, why would I marry you?" it made me chuckle. I heard clients in private rooms were sometimes stupid and clingy after a lap dance, but his case differed. "I don't even know your name,"

"Kai Winson," he titled his head, waiting for a reaction. My reaction, I guess. "My name,"

"Nice to meet you, Mr Kai Winson. If you don't mind, my service ends here," I bowed slightly.

It was good while it lasted, but the marriage was never on my goddamn list. I hurried off the dance floor to take my one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

"Let's see the benefit of being the wife of a billionaire," my feet stopped, refusing to move. My eyes gaped wide. "A monthly allowance on whatever price you demand, a black card with unlimited spending, whatever car you desire... cars, I believe, and so on. Once our contract ends, you get an alimony worth millions of dollars and a house, and you name the state." He paused. "Will you be my wife, Tiffany Halton?"

I turned in his direction. My name, he just said my name, but how? "Who are you?" He walked further until there were inches left between us.

"Call me if you change your mind. I can give you more details on being the wife of Kai Winson," he pushed a business card into my hand.

I scoffed and walked away. I have heard of so many scams, but not this one. I wanted to believe it was a scam, although it didn't sound like a scam. Who scams someone in the pretense of marriage? I stared at the card in my hand, and I couldn't bring myself to toss it.

I got to the dressing room. I wanted to vanish before anyone saw me, but a lady rushed into the room, screaming and locking it. She looked at me and silently told me to keep quiet.

Tears sprang out of her eyes when someone banged on the door. "Please, let me in, please!"

Her hands shook, and I couldn't tell what was going on. Despite the bang, she refused to open.

"What are you doing? Let her in!" I rushed to her and pushed her aside. She battled with letting me open the door, but I already did. Another lady rushed in, and she was covered in blood. I was startled, unable to shut the door. The first girl pushed me, locking it.

I gasped as I heard a lot of bangs. Shooting, to be precise. They both cried silently, staring at me.

The lady I had opened the door for shook her head, covering her ears. "Abigail." She looked at her bloody hands. "Abigail, she's dead." She cried.

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I fell to my knees as I heard a bang on the door. No voice or cry. It continued, and I crawled towards the girls. We held our hands tightly until the door opened.

"I have money!" I screamed, shutting my eyes. "You can take it. Please leave us alone! Please!"

"Are you injured?" I peeped, but my vision was blurry from tears. I opened my eyes to find police officers staring at us worriedly.

Twenty minutes later, I sat outside the club, staring at the empty road. Everything I saw while walking out of the club frightened me. Abigail was gone. The only person I had known in Whitiz nightclub. I stared at my bloody hands. When I picked her up, she was already cold. Apparently, a stripper's ex-boyfriend was furious she broke up with him and caused a mess in the room Abigail was in.

I left my bag back at the club, and I had no phone or anything. I had no one to call. The money I had made was gone entirely.

"Sorry, how are you related to Tiffany again?" I looked around to see where my name was being mentioned.

"Her fiance,"

"Your name?" The policeman asked.

"Kai Winson," he replied. When his eyes met mine, he removed his coat, walked up, and covered me.

Did he come back? Or had he been there the whole time? "Let me drive you home," he offered.

I got up from the bench, "Oh," I wiped my eye, but he grabbed my wrist.

"Are you hurt? Let's go to the hospital," Kai dragged me, and I followed reluctantly. We reached a clean black car, and I stopped. He looked back at me, "You're a mess. You need to clean up,"

His offer was what I had in mind instead. No, I shouldn't. Marriage, I hated it. But this wasn't a marriage of love. "I can't go to the hospital. I'm fine."

"Don't worry, I will cover the bill,"

"Do you..." I attempted to wipe my eyes again, but he stopped me. I just lost my job and the hundred and fifty thousand dollars he gave me, and I had bills choking me up. The hospital was a place I didn't want to go to. "Do you have so much money to spend?" I glared at him.

"Yes, I do. So much,"

I sniffed. "You said I could be your wife for two years." He didn't say a word. "Back there, you said you were my fiance," I pointed toward the policeman.

I lowered my gaze, looking at my bare foot, and it was dirty and bloody. I bit my lower lip. "I'll do it," I whispered. "I'll be your wife,"