My sugar daddy took me to a gala, and I ended up in a fistfight with the love of his life. He pulled me out of the brawl, his grip like iron. With my hair a mess and mascara running, I glared at him coldly. "You taking sides now?" He remained silent, his jaw tight. I ripped the diamond ring off my finger and threw it in his face. "I’m dumping you." 1 I was Chloe, Damian’s kept woman. We’d been together for three years. He was handsome, wealthy, incredible in bed, and generous. His only rule was no kissing scenes in my movies. Because of that, I lost some roles and got labeled "fake" and "stuck up" by the critics. I didn't care. I had always been obedient. I never caused trouble. I never imagined that the first time I caused trouble, it would be nuclear. I punched his childhood sweetheart in the face. 2 It started when Damian asked me to be his plus-one at a high-society engagement party. I never fit in with his "Old Money" crowd. I wanted to say no, but I’d been filming on location for three months. I missed him. So, I went. Naturally, I ran into people I didn't want to see. I tried to avoid them, but they cornered me in the garden. Vivian was Damian’s childhood friend. Her family had moved to Europe years ago and just moved back to the States. Jessica was my nemesis in Hollywood. She constantly bought bots to trash me on Twitter. I didn't know they knew each other. I sat on a bench, trying to be invisible. Jessica was examining her manicure, speaking loudly enough for me to hear. "It's the Sterling engagement party. How did the trash get in?" Vivian glanced at me, her voice indifferent. "You dragged me out here just to gossip?" Jessica gave her a sycophantic smile. "Viv, don't be like that. It's stuffy inside. Besides..." "Viv, are you and Damian finally merging families? Like, marriage?" "It’s... pretty much settled." "That’s amazing! A power couple. It’s about time some people realized they’re just placeholders." Vivian didn't respond. Jessica kept going. I turned to leave, but her next words froze me. "Some people are so trashy. Her dad caused that construction collapse years ago. People lost their jobs, and he only lost a leg? That’s karma." I stopped. I turned around, walked up to her, and slapped her twice across the face. Jessica clutched her cheek, screaming. "Chloe! Are you insane?" I smiled coldly. "I can handle you talking trash behind my back, but did you think I wouldn't hit you to your face?" Vivian frowned. "Miss Hart, this is the Sterling estate. Have you thought about the consequences?" My eyes were sharp. "Miss Vance, if someone mocked your crippled father to your face, I’d hope you wouldn’t stop to think about consequences either." Vivian stayed silent, but Jessica lunged, grabbing my hair. I don't know how Vivian got involved, but by the time Damian arrived, the three of us were a tangled mess on the ground. Damian, face like thunder, hauled me out of the pile. I looked like a wreck. Vivian barely had a hair out of place. I glared at Damian. "You protecting her?" He frowned, saying nothing. That’s when I threw the ring. "I’m dumping you!" I ran out, dove into a waiting Uber, and sped off. But the moment the door closed, I broke down. I had just wrapped filming yesterday. I came back full of love and excitement to see him. And instead of a warm welcome, I got humiliated, and he took her side. My phone buzzed. Damian calling. I picked up and screamed, "The penthouse in Bel Air is in my name! You have one week to move out!" I hung up and blocked him on everything. Bastard. We were done. 3 I didn't go back to the Bel Air penthouse. I checked into a hotel in West Hollywood. After a shower, the adrenaline faded, and reality set in. I was probably the first sugar baby in history to evict her billionaire patron. I had gotten bold over the years. In the beginning, I was terrified of him. I met Damian at a slimy networking dinner. My agent forced me to go "socialize" with investors. My family used to be middle class, but after my dad’s accident on the construction site, we lost everything paying off debts and medical bills. To help, I signed a predatory contract with a talent agency. They gave me zero roles and treated me like an escort. I tried to dodge the dinners, playing sick, playing dumb. But that night, I had no choice. I walked into the VIP room. It was full of greasy middle-aged men. Damian sat at the head of the table, looking like a king among trolls. He got up to leave almost immediately. I panicked and followed him into the hall. "Sir," I stammered. "Can I... go with you?" He towered over me, looking down with cold eyes. "Why? Do I look like the nice one?" He looked like the scariest one, actually. But I couldn't say that. I shook my head. "You're the best looking." Damian scoffed. "I know." He looked impatient. I blurted out, "You look like a good person." He smirked, a dangerous glint in his eye. "You need glasses." He left. My agent dragged me back inside. They forced whiskey down my throat. A fat producer put his hand on my thigh. I struggled, knocking over a glass. He slapped me, calling me ungrateful, and tried to rip my dress. In panic, I grabbed a shard of the broken glass and stabbed him in the leg. I sat there, shaking, thinking I was going to prison. Then the door swung open. Damian stood there. He glanced around the room. The producer, who had been screaming like a pig, instantly went silent. "Didn't you want to come with me? Well? Come here." I dropped the glass and ran to him. I was shaking so hard I couldn't stand. He scooped me up and carried me out. 4 He took me to the penthouse. I spent an hour in the bathroom, terrified to come out. I heard him on the phone, fixing the mess I made. When the voices stopped, I walked out wrapped in a towel. He was leaning back on the sofa, shirt unbuttoned, looking effortlessly expensive. I stood in front of him, gathered my courage, and dropped the towel. I squeezed my eyes shut. He stood up, picked up the towel, and wrapped it back around me. "You're young," he teased. "But bold." My face burned. "I... I've never done this... I don't know the protocol..." "Look at me." I gripped the towel, forcing myself to meet his eyes. They were dark, amused, and dangerous. "You trust me that much? Aren't you afraid I'm worse than them?" "No," I lied quickly. "Handsome people are usually kind." He laughed. He pulled me close and kissed me. It was my first kiss. My brain melted. He brushed his thumb over my lip. "Go to sleep. Can you sleep alone?" I nodded dizzily. "Hm? Is that how you treat your sponsor?" His voice went up a pitch. I panicked and hugged his waist. "No! I’m scared. I need you to hold me." He seemed satisfied, tucked me into bed, and went to make more calls. Half an hour later, he came back and held me while I slept. I checked the news for a week. Nothing. My predatory contract was dissolved. Damian set me up with a top-tier agency. The producer I stabbed vanished from Hollywood. For three years, Damian gave me the best resources. I went from a nobody to a B-list star. My parents’ debts were paid. They opened a small shop back home. Life was good. But for me, it was getting worse. Because I was falling in love with him. He was my patron. I was the contract lover. But loving Damian was the easiest thing in the world to do.
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