SOLD to My Ex: A Forbidden Service Contract - Chapter 1

To pay off my debts, I started working in the adult industry.

On the first day, the manager pushed me upstairs, whispering as we walked,

“Tonight you’re with a VVIP. He’s a germaphobe, has a terrible temper, and doesn’t touch anyone.”

My eyes lit up. “He doesn’t touch people? The client of my dreams!”

The manager gave me a complicated look. “Just try not to get scared off. All you have to do is talk.”

I chuckled. I wasn’t that delicate. I was here to make money, not to get emotionally involved. Besides, I was a chatterbox.

At the end of the hallway was Tianyao (Heavenly Radiance) One.

The gold-rimmed nameplate on the door gleamed, and the scent of sandalwood, tinged with a sweet, oppressive note, wafted from the crack.

Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door clicked open on its own.

The room was dimly lit. A man was lounging on the sofa, dressed in a black shirt with the cuffs rolled up, a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers.

He looked up at me, a smile playing on his lips that wasn’t quite a smile.

My mind went blank with a roar… Zhou Yan.

The same bastard who, three years ago, had told me “you’re not suited for relationships” outside the piano room before blocking me and vanishing completely.

It was pouring rain that day. I waited for him at the door until late at night, but I never even got an explanation.

Now, here he sat, impeccably dressed and perfectly calm, looking so damn respectable I almost didn’t recognize him.

He let out a soft laugh, his tone lazy. “Song Yu? You started selling yourself after leaving me?”

I suppressed my anger. “I’m here to work. In the legitimate service industry.”

“What kind of service?” He slowly got up, pulled a wad of cash from his wallet, and threw it at my feet with a slap.

“How much do you want? To not sleep with other men?”

I clenched my fists, staring at the cash, my knuckles turning white. I didn’t say a word, just walked towards him, step by step.

His gaze suddenly tightened, as if he thought I was about to lose it, his muscles tensing instinctively.

I bent down and picked up the bills.

I dusted them off, my voice calm. “You shouldn’t litter. It’s a lot of work for the cleaning lady to pick these up one by one. I’ll take care of it for you…”

I folded the money neatly, stuffed it into my pocket, and glanced at him again. “If you have hands, please put things in the recycling bin properly. If you can’t be bothered, just give it to me.”

The smile on his face froze, his eye twitching.

I turned to leave, but he suddenly spoke. “Stop.”

I froze. This bastard wasn’t going to ask for the money back, was he?

No way. I picked up every single one of those bills. You’re not touching the fruits of my labor.

“Don’t get the wrong idea.”

He leaned back on the sofa, crossing his legs. He wasn’t in a hurry. He pulled out a black card, spinning it on the coffee table like he was tossing a toy. “I can’t stand you doing this job. I’ll hire you by the month. Do my laundry, cook my meals, and lull me to sleep.”

What a joke. I’m not a housekeeper.

I still had that much pride. But in the face of a black card, maybe that pride could be temporarily set aside.

A scumbag’s money should be spent. It’s only right. Spend it lavishly. Why not? Let him keep it to show off?

“Come here,” he said, patting the spot next to him, a punchable smile on his face. “Let’s talk about the service agreement.”

This is when you have to play it cool, ladies.

You can’t agree right away. A man always craves what he can’t have.

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Don’t be scared. I told you I wouldn’t touch you.”

He paused, let out a low laugh, and then raised an eyebrow. “…Unless you present yourself.”

“Are you fucking insane?”

So much for acting like a princess. I was ready to turn into a shrew and start cussing him out…