Miss Red X

Miss Yabawa woke up to the sound of silence. She rubbed her temples, feeling a dull ache that seemed to throb in sync with her heartbeat. She got out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen, searching for painkillers. As she swallowed the tablets, she gazed out the glass door, watching the gardener tend to the plants in the garden.

The gardener looked up and smiled as she approached him. "Good morning, ma'am," he said. "The gentleman told me to come earlier next time. He even gave me a hundred dollars for no reason at all."

Miss Yabawa's eyes widened as she recalled the events of the previous night. She had been with Mr. Kreg, the man in the Lamborghini, and she had accepted his offer. The memory of it still felt surreal.

As she turned to go back inside, she muttered under her breath, "F*ck, I'm an Orthodox Christian, and I did this." She couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt and shame that had been gnawing at her since the previous night.

She walked back to her room, her eyes falling on the wad of cash on her bed. She picked it up, feeling the weight of the money in her hands. "Huh, I did it for this," she said to herself. "For my life and for this money."

She looked at the paper with the address and ripped it to shreds, burning it in the kitchen sink. "Damn it," she cursed, watching the flames consume the paper.

Two months went by, and Miss Yabawa found herself struggling to make ends meet. Despite her best efforts to save, the money seemed to slip through her fingers like sand. She sat in her living room, sipping tea and staring at the newspaper. A large article caught her eye - a party at a renowned venue, attended by celebrities and businessmen.

The article described the party as a haven for those seeking pleasure and luxury. Miss Yabawa's eyes lingered on the words, and she felt a spark of curiosity ignite within her. She took a large sip of her tea, her mind racing with possibilities.

At 11:00 PM, Miss Yabawa got ready for the party. She wore a red dress, her black sandals, and a chain that her husband had given her before he left. She hailed an Uber and arrived at the party hall, where she was greeted by men in tuxedos and women in designer gowns.

As she entered the hall, she was swept up in a sea of bodies, music, and laughter. A man approached her, passing her a wine glass and smiling. "Wanna have fun, Miss Red Dress?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

Miss Yabawa finished her glass in one gulp. "The fun is not free," she said, her voice husky.

The man smiled and pulled out a wad of cash. "This would be enough?" he asked, his eyes glinting with desire.

Miss Yabawa nodded, and they disappeared into the crowd, lost in the music and the moment. As the night wore on, she found herself lost in the thrill of the encounter, her body responding to the man's touch.

When it was over, she left the party, the money clutched in her hand. She smiled to herself as she got into the Uber, feeling a sense of satisfaction and relief.

As she arrived home, she jumped onto her bed, the money still clutched in her hand. She lay down, feeling the weight of the night's events settle upon her. She turned off the lamp, the darkness enveloping her like a shroud. As she drifted off to sleep, she smiled, the memory of the night's pleasure still fresh in her mind.