I used to work as a model, but not the typical kind. In our profession, everyone had a benefactor, someone who supported them financially. I dedicated myself to my benefactor for a year and a half, tending to his needs diligently. Despite my dedication, I was eventually abandoned. Just when I gathered my courage and decided to start afresh, he showed up again, "Do you want to date me? Officially."

I used to work as a model, but not the typical kind; in our profession, everyone had a benefactor, someone who supported them financially.

I had one too, and his name was Sean Lawson. If I were to do the math, it would have been almost a year since I first met him.

Our contract was about to come to an end, and we had just under a fortnight left to decide whether to renew or part ways.

This decision was crucial in our industry, where our careers hinge on our youth, and finding a reliable benefactor wasn't a simple task.

To be honest, I was quite content with Sean as my benefactor, given what remained of my conscience.

If he chose to renew our arrangement, I'd enthusiastically embrace the opportunity.

Unfortunately, based on what I knew about Sean, the outcome hung in the balance. He’s an absolute charmer.

When a man's wealth and power reached a certain level, there was naturally a constant influx of newcomers seeking his favor.

No matter how hard I tried, there were limits to what the human body could endure. After being together for a year and experiencing every conceivable scenario, Sean had lost interest in me.

The villa halfway up the mountain, covering nearly five hundred square meters, was the place Sean assigned for me to live — all his lovers lived here, but I couldn't be sure where I stood in the order.

Just the thought of bidding farewell to this grand mansion in another half-month filled me with sadness.

It was close to midnight when the maid woke me up, saying that Sean had arrived.

Naturally, I had to attend to him.

Our profession wasn't as straightforward as it might seem; it wasn't just about lying down with our eyes closed and wearing a seductive smile.

Besides knowing how to please, luck played a significant role. If one found themselves with an unfavorable benefactor, it wasn't just a matter of losing income; it could also lead to their life being ruined.

In my three years in the industry, I had witnessed several of my "colleagues" grappling with such a situation for the remainder of their lives.

I considered myself fortunate. Sean, aside from his penchant for teasing me in that particular regard, had no other noticeable flaws and was remarkably generous.

I hastily donned a robe and made my way downstairs. There, I found Sean already reclined on the sofa, his eyes half-lidded, and the aroma of alcohol lingering around him.

The maid approached with a cup of honey water, and I instinctively took it, offering it to Sean with a caring tone. I softly asked, "Mr. Lawson, care for a sip?

It is worth noting that Sean's last name was not "Lawson", but actually "Lawisson". However, very few people were aware that he disliked being called Mr. Lawisson. Luckily, my lack of knowledge played in my favor, as I had no idea there was a surname like 'Lawisson’. I ended up catching Sean's attention purely by chance.

According to Sean, many people would respectfully address him as Mr. Lawisson upon their first encounter, but that only gave him goose bumps every time.

Sean reluctantly indulged in a few sips, his brows furrowing in response to the taste.

I quickly took away the cup. The combination of alcohol and various scents coming from him was quite alluring, but I didn't stop there. I helped him undress, prepared a warm bath, and took great care in tending to his needs, making sure every little detail was attended to.

Remarkably, Sean was not totally black out throughout the process, even cooperating by lifting his head and arms as needed.

"Lizzie, how long have you been with me?"

"Mr. Lawson, it's been almost a year."

Sean nodded. "So, the contract is nearing its end."

My heart skipped a beat, wondering if he was going to talk about renewing the contract. If he chose not to renew the contract, I wondered how much of a breakup fee I could get. Sean was a generous man, and if the money was right, I wouldn't have to stay in this profession.

Unfortunately, after he asked this question, there was no further discussion. I sat there waiting, only to be met with the sound of Sean’s sleeping breath.

The next day, my friend invited me to a beauty salon. Before I turned eighteen, I never imagined I would be frequenting such places.

In this line of work, looking good was crucial, and despite the handsome pay that came with it, maintaining one's beauty could be quite expensive. Newcomers continuously entered the scene, and once youth was no longer on your side, having the right skills and taking care of your appearance became essential.

These beauty treatments, covering everything from head to toe, were quite expensive. Each visit to the salon could set us back anywhere from a hundred to several thousand dollars.

The last package I purchased came to a whopping forty thousand dollars, and it felt like a painful hit to my wallet when I paid for it.

However, the results were worth it. On that particular night, Sean couldn't resist my advances – a rare exception. His self-control was remarkable. I had employed every seductive tactic, but typically, he would exercise restraint when the moment arrived.

A friend asked me about my future plans, mentioning that she recently got to know a wealthy patron from the city’s social circle, who seemed promising. She suggested that if I were interested, she could introduce me at our next gathering. I declined the offer repeatedly.

Though Sean most likely wouldn't renew our contract, we were still bound by it. If I dared to seek another benefactor behind his back, I'd be asking for trouble.

"I'm curious who will be lucky enough to become Sean's next partner," my friend remarked, showing a hint of envy.

"I have no idea," I replied curtly.

Sean didn't appreciate people trying to figure out his intentions, but in our line of work, reading people's preferences was instinctual.

Throughout the year I was with Sean, I saw plenty of attractive individuals competing for his affection, regardless of their gender. People of his kind didn't mind much; as long as they could satisfy him, he would keep giving them money.

At first, he showed some enthusiasm for me, but as time went on, it became more subdued. Perhaps the novelty had worn off, and he considered me just another option. Next year, he might be onto someone else.

Midway through my beauty treatment, I received a call from Sean. He provided me with an address and instructed me to come immediately.

The address led me to a private mansion, a members-only establishment with high levels of privacy. I had a vague sense of anticipation, and upon arrival, I recognized the people here were Sean’s clients from the Westin City.

My purpose for being there was to win the favor of these clients in a different way, a skill I had honed over the years. With each glass of alcohol and a stream of pleasant words from my lips, the atmosphere became increasingly warm.

One of the clients, Christian Murray, handed me a business card right in front of Sean. He mentioned how much he liked me. I discreetly glanced at Sean, trying to gauge his reaction.

Unfortunately, Sean was a person I had never been able to decipher.

I couldn't read Sean's emotions. I might not be exceptionally clever, but I was cautious enough. In Sean's presence, I avoided anything that might displease him. Therefore, I politely declined the Christian’s advances, explaining that I belonged to Sean, both in life and death.

My response brought laughter from the crowd, except for Sean. He remained seated, his gaze fixed on me with those inscrutable eyes. I replied with a bright smile.

Meetings among these powerful individuals and the end of the dinner were merely the starting point. The gathering shifted to a spacious private room, where the coffee table was already filled with various expensive liquors.

A group of individuals, guided by the club owner, arrived at the scene. Among them were both men and women, appearing as if they had been carefully presented for choosing, much like well-packaged items. I even spotted a few who had recently come of age.

In our profession, one needed to have a keen eye. Whether they were genuinely young or only appeared that way, I could tell at a glance. Sean lazily spoke up, selecting the one who had just come of age.

I became instantly wary. While I had no qualms about playing mind games and using tactics, there was one thing I could never control – age. While I could feign innocence, this young lady truly embodied it!

"Is this your first time servicing a client?" Sean asked in a gentle tone.

The young newcomer nodded shyly and nervously. She clumsily poured a drink for Sean, and due to her nervousness, some of it spilled.

Sean didn't show any irritation, instead giving me a meaningful glance. I understood that it was my responsibility to handle such minor mishaps. As for winning favor, having the young newcomer present should be enough.

I kept a watchful eye on everything, ready to listen to anything. I was in charge of pouring drinks, accompanying singing sessions, and even performing a heated dance when the mood struck.

In the background, I faintly heard Sean engaging in a casual conversation with the young lady, asking about her name, age, and where she came from. She was eighteen, hailing from a remote coastal town, facing financial difficulties due to a sick family member.

The backdrop of her story was worn out and clichéd, used by many, and I found it too mundane to bother with.

When Sean initially asked me why I got into this profession, I told him I was lazy and just wanted to get something for nothing. I genuinely believed that it was my candid and unpretentious reason that caught Sean's attention.

Surprisingly, Sean actually believed the young newcomer. I was shocked that he even took out his checkbook and wrote a check for her.

If I had known that playing the sympathy card would work, I wouldn't have waited for the young lady to use such tactics! He should have told me that he liked someone with a tragic background. During my school days, I excelled in writing and could craft all sorts of tragic tales.

The drinking session ended, and it was already three in the morning. Sean left with the young lady. Thankfully, he wasn't entirely ungrateful, and in appreciation of my energetic performance tonight, he kindly had the driver take me home.

The car had the air conditioning on, maintaining a comfortable temperature. However, perhaps due to drinking too much, my body temperature seemed high. I endured it as long as I could in the back seat, but I finally had to ask the driver to stop.

Before the car came to a complete halt, I rushed out and clung to a filthy trash can by the roadside, vomiting uncontrollably.

After a year with Sean, it seemed my alcohol tolerance had decreased. Tonight, despite consuming a combination of red and white wine, totaling only seven or eight bottles, I found myself unable to cope with it.

The kind driver got out of the car and handed me some tissues. I had vomited bile, and my mouth tasted bitter. I thanked the driver, looking quite disheveled.

"Are you okay? Should I take you to the hospital?"

"I'm fine." I waved it off. "This is nothing, I know what I'm doing."

Throwing up after drinking wasn't a new experience for me, so I didn't make a big deal out of it. Even though I felt like my mind had turned to mush, I somehow made it back home, expecting to fall into a deep sleep without any trouble.

However, as soon as I lay on the bed, my drowsiness vanished.

I had a strong premonition.

My position was about to be replaced by that young newcomer.

I couldn't believe how lucky she was to meet Sean on her first day of work!

The situation left me feeling extremely resentful.

My premonition was right. Over the next week, I didn't see Sean at all. I gradually learned the latest news about Sean from various sources. The young newcomer had, as expected, become Sean's new favorite, and she received his full attention.

Every time this happened, I regretted choosing the path of being accommodating. If only I had taken a more assertive and demanding route, I could have confidently approached Sean and prevented him from neglecting the old for the new!

As the days passed, the contract finally came to an end. I was quite tactful and didn't wait for Sean to ask me to leave; I packed my belongings voluntarily. I had a feeling deep down that he hadn't brought up renewing the contract, which made it clear he had no intention of continuing it.

However, I couldn't help it. Going from luxury to frugality was hard, and I truly couldn't bear to part with this grand villa and the maid!

Sean had his secretary approach me and presented me with a property deed. It was a spacious penthouse in Hampton, valued at approximately one million dollars. My initial inclination was to sell it right away. My financial situation wasn't in the best shape, and expenses seemed never-ending. I feared that if I stayed in that house for a few more months, I might struggle to cover even the property maintenance fees.

On the second day of moving out of the villa, a business card ended up in my hands. It was from Christian, the client whom I had rejected at Sean's dinner party.

A friend said, "I believe this opportunity is quite promising. You've resolved matters with Sean, so you should take advantage of it!"

I hesitated and replied, "He's from the Westin City, and I'm not enthusiastic about venturing into that unfamiliar territory."

"Come on, don’t be silly! Given his status, you’re definitely not his only gal. Men like these have numerous partners in numerous cities. Just have him rent a place for you here, and if he were to come here for business, you can attend to him.

"I'm telling you, you can't afford to slow down. In our profession, if you were to take a break, it would be hard to regain momentum. You must continue attending social gatherings and maintaining connections with influential people. Otherwise, there are plenty of attractive and entertaining individuals out there. Why would anyone pay a premium for your services?"

Seeing that I remained silent, my friend squinted and asked, "Lizzie, don't tell me you actually have feelings for Mr. Lawson.”

"You're right," I finally spoke up, trying to lift my spirits. "I can't afford to take a break. I need to work hard to make money."

"There's a golf event this weekend, and I'll take you with me," my friend said with satisfaction. "You need to seize the opportunity."

I inquired about Christian’s preferences, and on the day we played golf, I deliberately wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and a professional skirt, presenting myself as a high-end executive.

The moment I saw Christian, I felt his gaze on me, and I knew that I had successfully secured my annual income.

He was charmed by my act.

Pretending not to know how to play golf, I got close to him, playing with golf clubs while he played with me – a mutually beneficial arrangement.

In the distance, a golf cart approached, and as I lifted my head casually, I spotted Sean with the young lady in his arms, looking at me with indifference.

At that moment, I was obediently nestled in the arms of Christian, and both of us were swinging our golf clubs in a nearly synchronized fashion.

With a "thwack," the ball took an inexplicable trajectory, soaring high into the air.

In the end, it landed right on Sean's head.