RUE
In one of the guest rooms of my penthouse, the woman's voice echoed as she attempted to please me. Despite her efforts, there was an unsettling numbness within me, a void that even her intimate gestures couldn't fill. I clenched my teeth, grappling with the realization that something was amiss.
"How about this, Sir?" she inquired; her tone a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. But the pleasure she offered remained elusive, and I could only muster a disheartened shake of my head.
"Enough. You can now go," I declared, a sense of frustration evident in my voice. The woman, taken aback, questioned our premature conclusion.
"Huh? But we're not even at the climax?"
"We? Or I? You've reached the climax for God knows how many times already," I retorted, irritation cutting through my words. "Now, go. Leave me alone."
Her protest hung in the air, but a stern glare from me silenced any further objections. Reluctantly, she left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I stood there, still naked, checking out the view from my New York City penthouse. I grabbed a glass of strong whiskey, taking sips and hoping it would help me figure out my problem.
While I drank, I thought about being asexual. Not being able to feel turned on or have an orgasm wasn't just a personal thing anymore; it was turning into a real issue. I felt the weight of what people expected from me, especially since I was supposed to keep our family line going.
I thought about how rich people usually stick to old traditions, getting into arranged marriages to keep the family name strong. But my situation messed with that plan.
As the only son of my deceased father, my grandfather challenged me and my older sister's son, just a few years younger than me, to have a child. He declared that whoever had a child from another wealthy family would be the heir for all of the Colterzon’s businesses. The pressure was on, and I couldn't afford to lose to my nephew, knowing the potential consequences for our family's businesses if he were chosen over me.
In the middle of all this fancy stuff and family rules, I had to face a truth about myself that didn't fit in with what others wanted. The quiet room echoed with the clash between what's expected and who I really am, making the future look more complicated than ever.
What a fucking useless piece of shit you’ve become, Rue.
Gritting my teeth, I once again found myself in the familiar grip of self-loathing. However, amidst this moment of disdain for myself, a welcome interruption arrived in the form of a call from my friend Rij. I could already sense he was calling to inquire about the woman he had sent my way.
Answering his call, my suspicion was promptly confirmed. "How was the woman I sent you?" he queried, eager for a report.
"No effect. As always," I replied, lacking any enthusiasm in my tone.
Rij and I had known each other since childhood, both hailing from affluent families and destined to be future heirs. Our shared background allowed for a level of understanding that made him the only person I could truly be honest with. Through thick and thin, we supported each other in times of trouble.
"I knew it. Why don't you just join me here in paradise? I'll send you the address," Rij suggested, exuding a casual demeanor. It seemed he had anticipated the ineffectiveness of his plan, having explored countless solutions to my predicament. Yet, he never ran out of wild ideas.
"I'm tired," I protested weakly, but Rij was quick to counter.
"The night is still long! Come here! What if this time, it'll work?"
Frustrated, I rolled my eyes, reluctantly giving in to his persuasion. In the end, I followed him, entertaining the thought that maybe, just maybe, this unconventional plan could offer a solution for my own sake.
I drove to the address of his go-to strip club—the Eventide Cabaret. It seemed like Rij had tipped off the security because as soon as I parked my car in front of the club, they swiftly ushered me inside.
The moment I stepped in, nearly naked women swarmed around me, attempting to entice me with flirtatious touches. Yet, all I felt was a deep sense of repulsion. No arousal, no shivers down my spine, just an overwhelming disgust.
“Rue, over here!” Rij's voice called out, and I spotted him in the VIP lounge. I navigated my way through the persistent crowd of women.
“What the hell is this place?” I questioned, a frown etching my face as the women continued to follow me.
"A strip club?" Rij replied, dripping with sarcasm. I shot him a glare, prompting laughter from him. "I'm just helping you explore every possible solution to your problem."
"Really? This is one of the solutions you came up with?" I scoffed, clearly unimpressed.
"Yeah," he said casually, tossing dollar bills in my direction, causing the women to flock even more.
"What the heck?!" I exclaimed, taken aback.
He ignored my protests. "Pleasure him!" Rij ordered the girls, making them squeal and leaving me utterly miserable. He then made a hasty exit.
I attempted to follow him, but the persistent women blocked my way. Frustrated, I resorted to the only thing I could do – shout.
"Rij! Get your ass back here, you asshole!"
“Hush, Mr. Billionaire. We're going to play," declared one of the women.
"Move," I ordered with full authority, but they seemed to brush it off. Instead, one of the girls boldly took a seat on my lap.
“Chill. We’re just getting started,” she cooed in a flirtatious tone. Oh damn!
Two more girls joined in, sitting beside me, touching my body, and intentionally pressing their rather prominent assets against me. I swear, Rij is going to pay for this absurd idea!
As the chaos continued, my frustration boiled over, and I muttered under my breath, "I need a drink... or maybe a whole bottle." The situation was beyond ridiculous, and I couldn't help but wonder how I ended up in this absurd carnival of chaos.
I couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped in a bad comedy, and the only punchline was my utter discomfort. "I just wanted a peaceful evening," I muttered to myself, hoping against hope that this absurdity would soon come to an end.
“Mr. Billionaire, come on. Show us what you got,” another woman encouraged.
Maintaining control over my temper, especially with women, was a skill I had been honing. No matter how much I wanted to shout at them to back off, I forced myself to stay calm.
“No thanks. I’m fine. Just… get off me,” I said respectfully, attempting to avoid physical disrespect.
I kept avoiding touching the women who were all over me. While I wanted to push them away, I refrained from being physically disrespectful, so all I could do was endure the situation in silence. Damn!
As I glanced around, my eyes caught another girl from afar. Unlike the women beside me, she seemed out of place, perhaps a guest or an intruder. Her attire was just a simple shirt paired with pajamas, and she wore slippers. Despite her disheveled appearance, her aura seemed harmless, so I decided to take a chance.
“Save me,” I mouthed silently, hoping she'd understand. Her eyes widened in response, and her lips parted in disbelief. Though she seemed confused, I didn't care anymore.
“Please,” I added, my frustration evident even without a voice. What was I doing?
She appeared concerned, and for a moment, I felt a glimmer of hope that she might actually help me. To my surprise, she chose to act as if she hadn't noticed me. What the heck?
“Hey!” I tried once more to get her attention, feeling somewhat offended by her apparent disregard. Excuse me? Did she just ignore a Rue Colterzon?
“Focus on us, Master,” one of the women beside me demanded, holding my chin to redirect my attention.
Damn! I hate it here!
TYSHA "Girl!" Barra's voice sliced through the club's noises, and her grip on my wrist was strong and urgent. "Barra!" I replied, half-surprised and half-relieved. She guided me swiftly through the bustling crowd, a silent command to follow her. "This way. Quick. I need to work," she said, pulling me along, her movements confident and purposeful. I complied, trailing behind her. The air was filled with pulsating beats and the hushed whispers of covert conversations. As we moved, I took a moment to glance at Barra. She was already in the attire of her trade, a daring ensemble that left little to the imagination. Her silver lingerie sparkled under the neon lights, complementing her curled blonde hair and the vibrant makeup that adorned her face. A cute bunny headband perched on her head added an unexpected touch of innocence to the overall daring look. She looked dazzling, captivating the attention of anyone who crossed her path. Finally, we reached our destination – backstage, whe
RUE I sat at my office desk feeling really frustrated. Small things were bothering me, like not finding my pen and having an email I didn't read. I tried to work on my laptop, but I couldn't stop thinking about what happened last night. "Ugh," I sighed, running my hand through my hair. The board meeting was stressing me out, and the memories from the strip club kept coming back, making it hard to focus. My usually neat office was a mess, with papers scattered everywhere. It just added to my frustration—with myself, the whole situation, and the memory that wouldn't leave me alone. I was irritated about how the women touched me in that strip club but most especially, I was fuming mad about the girl who refused to help me. Like, how could she ignore someone like me?! I never felt humiliated like that in my entire life. No one has ever paid no attention to me before. It’s not that I wanted attention last night but—damn it! I could not forget the woman’s face who dared to ignore me. I
TYSHA As I sprinted away from the guy, my heart raced with a mix of panic and relief. Glancing back, I noticed his eyes widening in recognition. Gosh! With that, I also realized who he was – the man I ignored at the Eventide Cabaret last night. Woah! What a coincidence! What on earth is he doing in Bryse’s house? Are they related somehow? Anyway. One thing is for sure; he seemed even more irritated with me now, especially after the incident at the Eventide Cabaret. It wasn't intentional though; I just didn't want to deal with anyone. Now, he was part of this bizarre encounter. I shook off the strange mix of emotions and focused on getting as far away as possible. Gosh, I really hope to never cross paths with him again! All I freaking wanted was to get my money back, but now it feels like landing myself in handcuffs is a more likely scenario. Seriously, Tysha, what kind of messed-up luck do you bring into my life? Gosh! As I trudged back to my mom's hospital room, I tried my darn
RUE My balls were throbbing like crazy. That girl had just kicked me out of nowhere. Who does that? I barely knew her, and then I was in pain. I swore to myself quietly, "She's gonna pay for this." I didn't sign up to get kicked in the balls that night. The audacity?! No way she was getting away with it. Stepped gingerly, feeling the ache, but deep down, I was determined. No one got away with kicking me like that. Whether she was Bryse's ex or not, it wasn't cool. This isn't over, not by a long shot. THE next day, I decided to visit my 9-month pregnant sister, Cindy, on a whim. Cindy and I shared the same mom and dad. On the flip side, our older sister Amelia, who was Bryse's mother, came from my father's first marriage. Our family tree was a bit messy, but basically, my mom was a mistress. Cindy and I were illegitimate children, and that's why Grandpa favored Bryse more, being Amelia's son. “Rue!” Cindy exclaimed with surprise as I parked my car in their driveway. “Why didn’t
TYSHA Bumping into Mr. Billionaire here unexpectedly felt like a stroke of trouble. I mean, what were the odds? First, he caught me ignoring him at the cabaret. Second, he saw me sneaking around his Bryse’s place and got his balls kicked, and now this? Great. Just great. I didn't sign up for this awkward encounter. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was like he was some magnet for trouble, and I couldn't escape it. All I wanted was to not see him again and make things more complicated. It felt like New York City became much smaller because I kept on crossing paths with this man. Geez, Tysha, what kind of luck did you have? What brought him here, anyway? Jeff called him "uncle," so maybe he's related to Miss Cindy? But honestly, it doesn't quite add up. This family doesn't strike me as particularly well-off. And since he was in the VIP loft the night I saw him in Eventide Cabaret, he must be a millionaire or billionaire. So, what are his connecti
RUE I could sense Tysha's nervousness, practically smell it. She was definitely lying when she denied about knowing me. As she entered the passenger seat, she immediately fumbled for the seat belt, not realizing that in my Bentley Continental, it operated differently. I sighed. Despite my disdain for her, I reluctantly helped her with the seat belt. Closing the door, I triggered the automatic belt bringer, pulling it over her and intentionally closing the gap between us. I couldn't ignore her sweet scent, oddly alluring, but I pushed that thought aside. "Uhh... thanks," she muttered breathily. I remained silent. After assisting her, I made my way to the driver's seat, and we finally left Cindy’s residence. An awkward silence lingered between us, prompting me to break it by launching into an interrogation. "You know me," I accused, pretending to be entirely certain of my statement. “H-Huh?” she stuttered, obviously nervous of my accusations. I noticed how she looked in my direc
TYSHA Rue might look perfect, but his vibes were a letdown. I wouldn't suggest going through that kind of meeting again. Right now, I worried that he might get the CCTV footage from Eventide, revealing my identity as the girl he's searching for. The thought of facing him after he confirms it haunts me. Gaslighting him was tough. I was even lucky that I drifted our conversation away from what happened outside Bryse’s house because if Rue continued to ask questions about that, he could have found out the truth. Especially since I mentioned I was his nephew’s ex! Gosh! I'm anxious about keeping up the act once he has evidence. It was hard enough the first time, and I secretly pat myself on the back for escaping without getting into trouble. When the next session with Jeff came, I headed back to Miss Cindy's residence, looking forward to a quiet tutoring day since I knew that Rue only visited the last time we crossed paths there. But as I rang the doorbell, surprise hit me like a lig
RUE I messed up big time. Watching Tysha gather her things and leave my sister's house, I felt a twinge of guilt for the words I threw at her. But instead of stopping her, I just stood there like a stubborn fool, letting her walk away. "Uncle, why did you have to say that?" my nephew asked, his innocence carrying a weight of understanding beyond his years. Yet, I couldn't find the words to explain my mistake. I clenched my jaw, frustration building within me. Damn it! What the hell was I thinking? Looking back, I'm puzzled by my own feelings. Why do I have this intense dislike for her? It's like this irrational pettiness takes over, clouding my judgment and making me say things I don't mean. It's not just about her tutoring skills or any excuse I tell myself. There's something deeper, rooted in my own issues. Maybe it's a mirror of my insecurities, a need to assert control, or just a display of some unresolved frustration. Whatever it is, it's clear I need to understand myself bet