I woke up, blinded by the sunlight that shone through the window of the penthouse. I stretched my arms before getting out of bed, feeling my body sore from the other day at the gym. My eyes were darkened by the sleepless nights and tons of alcohol that I have fed my body throughout last week. Party after party, I was tired. I jumped out of the bed and onto the puffy white rug next to it. The transition from the warm rug to the cold wooden floor made me shiver, stumble upon one curve of the rug and fall onto the floor, hitting my nose. Sharp words of curse started pouring out of my mouth, waking up the whole city.

Down the stairs, I stubbed my toe into the wooden stairs and again, I swore under my breath. The coffee machine started screaming at me once I tried to switch it on and I jumped, scared for my life.

I sighed and filled it with water before turning it on and opening the door to take the newspaper off my porch. Who reads newspapers these days? I rolled my eyes and opened it, seeing the first page headline.

Billionaire Charlie Ross is accused of adultery, his wife Jolene Ross filed for divorce.

There were a set of pictures of me in his arms, wearing a pink wig. I looked good in them, that’s why I chose these pictures to send to Jolene. Once the divorce will be over, she will get half of his money and will probably fly to Cuba and disappear from the media. Another five thousand pounds in my account. Men are so easy to play. You put on a tight dress, the most obnoxious make-up you can find, and have the deepest and longest cleavage you can have and they will eat straight from the center of your palm. They slut-shame us just because they are so weak that when they see someone that even looks like a slut, their brains shut down and their dicks exchange places with it. Pathetic human beings. In my career, not longer than two years, there were approximately fifty men I had to seduce and managed to seduce them all, not one of them even flinched when they saw me dressed in a short tight dress with long black high heels, ready to ‘satisfy’ their pornographic fantasies.

Men are easy to play, when they see you looking like that, the ring on their finger magically disappears. You probably ask yourself why am I so upset with men and why do I paint them all with the same brush? Well...let me tell you a story of my beginnings.

Three years ago, I was happy--hell-- I was on cloud nine when me and my then-boyfriend- announced our wedding, after five years of a relationship. He was the love of my life, my high school sweetheart and other cheesy shit people love to hear about. He proposed to me when we were on a vacation in Paris under the Eiffel tower, I loved every minute of it. Fast forward, two months after that celebration, we were having the bachelor and bachelorette party. My bachelorette party was like a middle school sleepover, we drank wine, watched tv and cried for no important reason, he had a more wild one. Strippers and drugs were the key words of the party and I never found out what exactly happened there. Only one thing I knew for sure and that happened the night before we were supposed to say our vows and remain together for the rest of our lives.

We booked our venue in a fancy hotel in Las Vegas and he said that I will have to go alone to inspect it as he was going with his boys to another bachelor party. The truth was that he was fucking around with one of my bridesmaid, Angelica. Screw Angelica! He even fucked her in our hotel room, where we had to have the first magical night of our lives, the start of our honeymoon. I had my suspicions for a long time and I knew that he was screwing another bitch behind my back but when I opened that door and saw him doggy styling over Angelica, who was my best friend since third grade, my Mimosa shattered on the floor.

“Joshua?!” I was ready to strangle him and wipe the fuckin’ floor with that bitch. They both jumped out of the bed, as if they were sitting on lava, probably her cum.

“Darling, it’s not what it looks like!” He tried to fool me as if the word Stupid was engraved on my forehead. Angelica tried to cover her nude body with the first thing she could find.

“Oh, piss off Angelica! I have seen your stretched out boobs since the beginning, do not try to hide it now!”

I was enraged, had my death stare ready for the actual death of the two of them. I had the urge to shoot them dead, but I was a woman with dignity, grace and respect, so I threw my ring in his eye and turned around to leave those two pieces of shit together because they were meant for each other.

Of course I keyed his car and started the fire alarm in the hotel just to create a little chaos. The days that followed, I had to tell our friends and family about what happened and why we cancelled the wedding.

That was the moment I learned that photos can destroy someone faster than a thousand words.

Months passed by before I got the brilliant idea of hooking up with someone just to get over the shit I had to endure. I put on the sluttiest clothes, had the loudest make-up and got drunk, ready to tackle the world from bar to bar, trying to forget about the fact that my former-future-husband- cheated on me a day before the wedding with the ‘stretched-out-boobs’ Angelica. One guy was hitting on me one night and after we screwed around in the bar’s restroom, I realised that he was married and I turned into Angelica at that moment. To my shock and my surprise, his wife found me days after it and almost kissed my hands for helping her get out of the saddest marriage she ever had. Then I understood that if I was a strong woman, broken up by a man that has a dick instead of a brain, I could help other strong women by seducing their husbands for a small amount of money, which mixed the pleasure with productivity.

“Aurora!” The voice of a woman that knocked on my door made me jump out of my story-telling.

“Coming!” I yelled, opening the door. Susan was standing in front of me with her perfect curly hair and natural makeup that made me jealous of her looks. You probably ask who Susan is? Susan was one of my clients that implored me to help her to file for divorce and remained my friend ever since then. She became some kind of agent for me, finding me clients and helping me with fashion.

"What's burning?" I asked, rolling my eyes with a loud sigh.

"Probably this woman's money!" She excitedly waved a yellow envelope in front of me. "This is a big fish!" She tossed it to me and poured herself a cup of old and cold coffee, brewed yesterday.

I tore the envelope and inside was the picture of a well dressed man, with army short cut hair, olive skin and hazel eyes.

"That's a cute one." I said, analyzing the image of my next victim.

"This tastes like shit!" She hissed, spitting the coffee on my house robe.

"Well, thank you for your DIY makeover of my robe, Sus!" I gave her the death stare as she brewed another coffee.

“No worries, girl! I will invoice you on PayPal.” She giggled as I took the envelope with me in the living room, scratching my head when I studied it.

Throughout the short letter that accompanied the photograph, marked another easy money on my list. The fiance, Angelique Moriso, a twenty-five years old French woman, wanted to test her future husband’s loyalty and I had been recommended by a friend of hers. His name was Mathieu Moralise and was filthy rich, owning some big company in the city and had several vineyards back in Versaille, her homeplace. Angelique had a few suspicions on her future-to-be husband and wanted to make sure she wouldn’t marry a playboy.

“So he is rich, handsome and charming. If he is loyal, I may be the next president of America.” I let the envelope aside and ran my fingers through my hair.

“You never know.” Susan said, bringing me a cup of steaming hot coffee.

“Oh, please! I always know. Throughout the years I’ve been doing this job, there was no man that was loyal. If you know how to play with them, they will fall for you before you even ask for the check at the restaurant.” I said, taking the cup from her hand. I proceeded to sip from it when the burning hot liquid seemed to melt my tongue.”Shit!” I jumped from pain, putting the cup on the coffee table. “Are you trying to melt me, bitch?” I protested and she couldn’t stop laughing as I was fighting for my voice’s life.

“Shut up, little toddler!” She looked away as she drank the coffee without a blink.

“Psycho.” I stretched my arms and rotated my head.

“You’re accepting the job, right?” She asked, as if it wasn’t obvious enough.

“Girl, she is paying me five thousand dollars, just for hitting up on her fiance, who is cute--I might add--what do you think?”

“Well, right. Then be ready, because he is participating in a friend’s bachelor’s party tomorrow night at Colette, around ten p.m. It’s up to you how the two of you will meet.” She winked at me and I wrinkled my face.

Colette was a luxurious night club where only people with loud money could spend the night in. The entry tax was five hundred dollars and the cheapest drink was a tequila shot, one hundred dollars a shot. A place where men can drink fancy shit and watch naked women. This job needed some investments, sadly.

“If it will be long, I will have to spend all that money in one day.” I rolled my eyes, exasperated.

“Angelique owns Colette.” Susan said over her shoulder and I stopped, a smile starting to pop up on my face.

“Nice to know about it.”

“That’s the spirit, girl!” She hipped me up, as I crawled back into my room to dress up for the gym.

I threw on a pair of black yoga pants and a blue tank top over my sports bra and hit the road to the Shark Gym. As I stepped inside, all eyes were on me. Girls were rolling their eyes, probably saying how I looked like a bitch and boys probably thought I’m their next prey. Sadly for them, they would be my next prey if needed.

I had my earphones plugged and the music blasting when a man approached me and made the bold decision to touch my ass, never seeing my fist punching his smug face. It happened so fast that I didn’t even see it myself. Before I stopped the music, he was screaming on the ground, cursing and threatening me, calling me names that I’ve heard before.

Before he got up, another man came up to him, his face red from laughing and extending his hand to him, resting his other hand on his shoulder.

“You asked for it, bro.” I heard behind me and when I turned around, my face fell like a concrete wall on the ground, when I saw the same man from the photograph in front of me. He had his hair sweaty and was dressed in a black gym tank top that showed his muscular arms and stone-looking chest; and a pair of grey shorts that gave a sneak peak to something that Angelique sure was worried about others to see. His voice was low and husky, betraying his soft face. Even if he was all sweaty, the expensive cologne on him still stank on him. “I’m sorry for my friend.” He finally said, extending his hand to me.” I’m Mathieu.”

“Rachel.” I said, shaking his hand. “Mathieu sounds like an old grumpy guy’s name.” I commented and cringed. Why did I say that?

He laughed as he shook my hand and looked into my eyes. From the first time, I could see that he was not a player, just a polite man, which was strange. It was as if I had seen an unicorn, and couldn’t wait to prove that it was just an ordinary horse with a toilet paper roll glued on his forehead.

“Well, my parents thought of me as a grumpy old guy, then.” His French accent stank in his voice as he spoke and it only grew my interest. “The grumpy punched guy there--” He pointed to his friend who had a swollen eye, after it collided with my fragile fist. “Is Davis and I need to apologise on his behalf. He can be a dick sometimes.” His smile was perfect, so white that it blinded me a little.

“Like you said, he was asking for it. Now, if you excuse me, I have a workout to get back to.” I said coldly, playing my music again and he turned around to leave.

Now it would be harder to hit on him at the club, if we already met here, so I had to change my scenario. At first, I thought about a blonde wig and some coloured lenses, but he saw my face, which blew my plan off. After finishing my workout, I pulled out my phone from my black gym bag and called Susan.

She answered on the first ring.

“Girl, we need a new scenario.” I said, before she even said something. “See you at my place.” I said quickly and hung up as I saw him walking in front of me.

“You again? Are you stalking me?” His sexy laugh made me smile a little, but I stood my ground.

“It’s a public place, there is no need for a reason to bump into each other.” I said, putting my phone back into my gym bag. We should stop talking before I blew up my chance for the five thousand dollars bounty, but strangely, I genuinely wanted to talk with him. There was something about him that attracted me like some sort of a messed up magnet. The first guy in years to turn my interest on. Mathieu was a lucky, lucky guy.

"I hoped you would say something like "Yes, do you want to go on a date with me?" He said, quoting in the air with his fingers.

"Yeah, sure." I said, coldly.