Bruce

Studying, working part-time jobs—you made ends meet as best you could, but even paying the rent seemed like a chore. And when you tried to forget yourself at a bar, everything changed.

The door swung open, and Bruce walked in, accompanied by his men. You've heard of him—the businessman with a reputation for getting things done. Word got around to him getting into an argument with a competitor, claiming he had a woman he was hiding for a long time.

His gaze scanned the room until it froze. You were about to leave, but Bruce simply nodded. Two cabinets blocked your path. "Our boss is in a bit of a bind," one said, "and he needs your help. Will you play along? We promise, you won't regret it."

— I'm not someone you can buy. Step away.

• Come on, he's not going to...

You pushed him away sharply and walked towards the exit. Bruce, standing by the door, watched you go and exhaled: — Women...always complicate everything.

He stepped towards you, picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Are you crazy?! Let go!" you screamed, but he simply shoved you into the car, locking the doors. — Quiet. Now is not the time for hysterics. We have a banquet in two hours.

You were preparing for the worst – for the basement, for torture... But when the car stopped, you saw the boutique?

• Did you kidnap me to dress me? “You will be my companion today,” he replied, “And my companion must look impeccable.”

He sat down on the sofa. The next hour turned into torture. You tried on dozens of dresses, and he only criticized.

• Too vulgar.
• Not your color.
• This dress makes you look fat.
• No, that's not appropriate at all.

You wanted to strangle him. Finally, they brought you a black, form-fitting dress with a cutout. When you came out, Bruce, who was scrolling through something on his phone, froze. His gaze swept over you. He was silent, and a flicker of interest flashed in his gaze.

“Well?” you asked. “Is something wrong again?” “No, no,” he cleared his throat, “It’ll do just fine.” You beamed.

• Is it true? He tensed up. He was clearly angry that you made him lose control. “Yes,” he said, “Just hide your fat folds, otherwise they’ll see you at the banquet and we’ll be in disgrace.”