Chapter 15

I wandered a bit through the mall, passing by the storefronts, eyeing clothes I’d never be able to afford on my tight receptionist salary. Even with Dad’s help, the money barely covered everything. But things were different now. We were making real cash. As soon as we paid for his treatment, I’d come back here and buy whatever I wanted—just point and take it. That thought gave me a mix of relief and power. A sense of control I’d never felt before.

But it wasn’t just that occupying my mind. Vitor was there too, circling my thoughts like smoke. I still didn’t know what to make of it all. The fact that he’d met me through a website. That he knew exactly what my moaning voice sounded like, my face when I come, the way I fake it. And strangely, it didn’t bother me. Not one bit. I didn’t feel ashamed.

In fact, it even made me curious. Maybe… excited.

He probably thought I was a whore. And honestly? I was doing whore shit online anyway. But the funny thing was, thinking about it didn’t make me feel dirty. Quite the opposite. I liked the idea of him imagining me as some other woman—one more modern, bolder, freer than I really am.

It stirred something in me. Made me confident. Had me walking with my chest a little higher, steps more sure. Like I was in disguise and, at the same time, more myself than ever.

“What if he wants to fuck me? Do I let him?”

The question slipped from my lips before I realized I’d said it out loud.

I looked around, embarrassed, like someone might’ve heard.

It wasn’t long before my phone buzzed.

“10 minutes.”

I took a deep breath, trying to act calm, and headed toward the food court. It was packed, noisy, full of families, teenagers laughing loud, people with trays in hand—perfect. The more people, the safer I felt. I picked a table right in the middle, super visible, and pretended to scan the glowing menu at the burger joint while my heart pounded.

A little while later, he showed up.

Vitorino. Or better yet, Vitor.

He was wearing a light dress shirt, perfectly ironed, structured collar, cuffs open. Dark pants, clean shoes. The kind of outfit a regular guy doesn’t wear to the mall. He was taller than I’d pictured and hotter too. Neat haircut, trimmed beard. He had this calm vibe, almost gentle, but at the same time self-assured—the type who knows the effect he has when he walks into a room.

And there I was, sitting with my white floral dress that looked like a young girl’s and had seen better days, and all I could think was:

“Holy shit… why’d he have to meet me on a porn site instead of at fucking Sunday mass? And why’d I leave the house looking so sloppy?”

He spotted me and came right over. His approach was so friendly, so natural, that for a second I totally forgot how we knew each other. He smiled, greeted me politely, a bit shy even, and invited me to a restaurant right there in the mall for something more chill. I said yes. It was a fancier spot, with textured paper menus and cloth napkins—I admit my eyes went wide. The kind of place I’d never step into alone, but with him there beside me, footing the bill…

What caught my attention most when we started talking were two things. First: he smelled amazing. A light, woody cologne, nothing over the top, but it lingered in the air when he leaned in. And second: his sweetness. He looked at me calmly, really listened, smiled at the right moments, didn’t interrupt, didn’t seem like he was just waiting for his turn to talk about himself. It was disarming.

We sat down, ordered two drafts and some random dish he suggested we share—I don’t even remember the name. The conversation flowed. And the weirdest part: we never once mentioned how we met. No jokes, no references, nothing. It was like we’d met in real life, in a normal situation. Almost as if that awkward start never happened.

He told me he worked in finance, in an area mixing law and investments. He talked with enthusiasm but without showing off. He had that vibe of someone who’d studied hard but didn’t need to impress. When he asked what I did, I took a big swig of my draft and blurted it out:

“I’m a dentist’s secretary… and now a camgirl.”

His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing. But it wasn’t mocking. It was genuine, surprised, nice to hear. He laughed like it was the best line in the world, and in that moment, I laughed too. For the first time in days, I laughed without feeling guilty.

“Look, I’ve got a question for you! Why’s a hot guy like you hanging out in a place like that?”

“You know I could throw that right back at you, right?”

I laughed. It was true. But he didn’t seem like the type to play that card just to mess with me.

“You wanna talk about it? ‘Cause I can, but the story’s kinda sad.”

“We can talk. Just don’t let the mood drop, okay?”

“You go first then.”

He took a deep breath, like he’d rehearsed this in his head.

“I work all day and study too. Don’t have much time for anything. And… I’m not exactly great at flirting, you know? I’m pretty shy, for real.”

He paused, thought a bit more, then went on.

“So I end up with pros. It’s simpler. More direct. Less emotional mess.”

I was about to open my mouth to respond, with a ton on the tip of my tongue, but he held up a finger and cut me off with a mischievous smile.

“Ah ah ah! No… no judgments!”

I stayed quiet and laughed, raising my hands like I was surrendering.

“Okay, no judgments…”

I took a deep breath, finishing off my draft.

“I… well, you know I have a sister, right? She lives off that internet stuff, selling courses, marketing, betting, those shady gigs.”

He nodded, listening closely.

“Then Dad got sick, and we needed money. She was already into selling nudes, getting excited about it… and me, who never imagined getting into that, ended up going along with her.”

I said it lightly, like it was no big deal. But inside, my heart was racing. I knew that moment could make or break a lot. And at the same time, I had no clue what he’d think of me after.

“Yeah… I’d never guess you could do something like that, looking at you.”

I nodded slowly, not sure what to say. The conversation went quiet for a beat. Heavy. That kind of silence that hangs in the air, waiting for the inevitable question.

“Would you be offended if I wanted to know more about you? About your work?”

“No… ask away.”

“What else, besides cam stuff, do you do?”

“‘Cause I didn’t find more content from you guys.”

“We only did the cam thing. That disaster you saw.”

“I gotta admit, you seemed kinda awkward.”

“But that’s what caught my eye. The inexperienced vibe, a bit lost. It had… charm.”

“You predators like vulnerable women.”

The words came out faster than they should have. Like a reflex, half bitter, half sarcastic.

He stopped for a second, thought, and answered honestly.

“Maybe.”

That “maybe” hung in the air with the clink of silverware and voices around us. I knew he wanted more. And he asked, like it was no big deal:

“Do you have videos together?”

“No. We want to film some, but we’re lacking the guts.”

What I wasn’t gonna say, not there, not then, was that we’d tried today. That hours ago, I’d filmed a video shoving my tongue and three fingers into my sister. That we’d gone far. Really far. Further than any script could predict.

“And escorts? Do you do that?”

I blushed instantly. I knew that question was coming. He was polite enough to ease into it, not seeming too pushy. And I’d thought when I finally heard it, I’d feel sad, pissed, maybe even get up and leave. But no. The only thing I felt was this weird urge to laugh. And shame. The kind you feel when a guy asks you to fuck and for some inexplicable reason, you wanna say yes—but say no.

“Nooooo!”

Half the restaurant turned, and I wanted to crawl under the table.

He laughed and set his glass down, looking at me with that easy way that threw me off.

“If you did, you’d have tons of clients.”

“God, I can’t even picture it. Hooking up with random old dudes would be so weird.”

“Ah, but not all are old. Some are nice guys. Like me…”

“Nice guys like you don’t call prostitutes.”

“They do. I do.”

“I don’t buy that. You don’t need to…”

He gave a small smile, half melancholic, half sly.

And I swallowed hard.

I knew another question was coming after that.