The Devil Wears Nada - A Why Choose Romance

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They pay a filthy fortune and think that makes them the boss of me. Bless them.

By day I'm Agnes, the receptionist three of the richest men in the city walk past like I'm a houseplant. I pour their coffee. I book their jets. I have made an art form out of being nobody, and honey, it pays the bills.

Barely.

So by night I'm Diablo: red lipstick, fake name, a camera that never shows my face, and three obscenely wealthy "whales" who pay a filthy fortune to do exactly what I tell them. Beg when I say beg. Wait when I say wait. Come back tomorrow and pay me again.

Here's my favorite part, the little secret that gets me through every beige, invisible workday: those three big spenders bankrolling my whole operation? They're my bosses. The cocky one. The quiet one. The one with manners. Every night I bring three masters of the universe to their knees, and they have no idea the woman running them is the girl at their front desk.

I know exactly who they are. They don't have the faintest clue who I am.

I'm the one holding all the cards.

…Right?