Trapped by the Cold Doctor

Who in their right mind would want a bar waitress, a sex worker to act as a mother figure, even if it is just for a day?

It sounded like a twisted joke.

"I..." I stammered, feeling the ground tilt beneath me. "Why me? Why would you want me to be a mom to your daughter?"

My voice cracked on the word "mom."

I wasn't even sure what shocked me the most, finding out he had a child, or that he wants me to pretend to be a Mom to his child.

"I just want you to be a mom to my daughter."

He repeated it, like it was nothing. Like he was asking me to hand him a napkin or lend him a cigarette. But I knew better. There was something behind his words. Something he was hiding.

A chill crawled up my spine.

What if he wants to hurt me?

"I'm not interested," I said firmly, my voice sharp with finality. I turned on my heel, went to grab my earrings, which I had left earlier in the bathroom. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I wasn't surprised to find the creepy man had left.

I grabbed my bag and walked out, not bothering to look back.

He must've figured out I knew about his plan.

The thought made me nauseous. What if I'd fallen for it? Played the part of the sweet pretend mom, followed him into his world, only to disappear into it like all those girls you hear about on the news?

I shivered.

But Madam Rose wouldn't hand me over to someone dangerous. Not willingly.

At least... I hoped not.

The bar pulsed with music and lights. My eyes scanned the crowd until I spotted Madam Rose in the distance.

The woman was a spectacle elegant in her early sixties with long curly hair cascading over her shoulders. Her makeup was always flawless, her nails perfectly fixed, and her lips gleamed with red gloss. She wore a tight, leather gown adorned with tiny sparkling studs, the kind of outfit that drew attention.

If you didn't know her age, you might think she is still in her thirties.

Each step Madam Rose took commanded the room. Everyone at the bar knew she was the owner. People might expect her to be stern, but she was far from it. She treated her customers with warmth and respect. That is why the bar was always packed to the brim.

I smiled as I approached her. Among all the waitresses and sex workers, Madam Rose had a soft spot for me. She knew I didn't enjoy the job, hell, she probably saw it in my eyes the very first day, but she also knew I needed the money. And she made sure I earned well.

"Madam Rose," I called, trying to keep my voice steady.

She turned, a brilliant smile spreading across her lips as her eyes landed on me. "Kayla, darling," she purred, her voice smooth like warm honey.

"Do you need a drink?" She asked me with a playful smile.

"No, Madam," I replied.

"So, how was it?" Madam Rose asked knowingly. Her smile faded a little, sensing the tension. She always knew I returned from those rooms with a heavy heart.

If only I had a degree. I could've had a better job...

"He paid well more than usual," Madam Rose said flatly."

She laughed, clearly impressed.

"Yes! I was honored to have him in my bar last night. Damien Cole is a real gentleman."

Damian Cole. The name echoed in my mind. It sounded familiar, but I pushed the thought away.

Still... there was something about him that didn't sit right.

"He's kind of... creepy," I murmured.

"He's not," Madam Rose replied firmly. "You only think so. Did he do something to you?"

"No... I mean" my words were cut off when Madam Rose's phone rang.

"We'll talk over the phone, dear," Madam Rose said, already walking away to take the call.

I sighed, my mood darkening again as I walked out of the bar, ignoring the lustful stares from the men loitering around, their hungry eyes tracking my every step.