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CHAPTER ONE <Unlucky Aria>

“Yes! Right there, fuck!” I moaned as my pussy was sucked and licked by this handsome man. The word handsome didn't even do him justice, his eyes took my breath away as he stared into mine while he stroked my clit with his tongue.

“You like that?” He whispered to my pussy as I panted from the pleasure.

“Yes please. You're gonna make me cum so hard,” I groaned as he curved his fingers in a forward motion, his tongue massaging my pussy from inside and his fingers from outside.

“Oh!” I screamed as I came hard.

Without giving me room to breathe, he stood up and lined his dick with my entrance while kissing my neck and whispering sweet words to my ear.

He teased me further by massaging my overly stimulated pussy with his cock, smearing my wetness and his precum all over my cunt and then he lined it back to my pussy and was about diving into me when a shrill sound startled me awake, the shock pushing me away from my small bed and I landed heavily on the ground.

It was my alarm and it had disrupted the only good thing that had happened to me in months, even though it was just a dream.

“Ugh! When will I get a fucking break?!”' I screamed into the room with frustration before I remembered why I had put on an alarm in the first place

I made the bed and stumbled in to shower, my feet aching with each step.

I had an interview today and I pleaded with the universe to have mercy on my soul for once and let me get the job because I was as broke as a church rat; or worse. Each time I opened the damn account, I had a mini heart attack.

In fact, the only other alternative was opening an only fans account because begging hadn't worked out so well for me.

I didn't blame them at all for not hiring me because even though I have a distinction in Business Administration and Real Estate License, I was just an unlucky person.

I know how that sounds, I mean, aren't we all?

But mine was different in so many ways. I went for an interview a month ago and everything was going so well until I got up to leave; my gown had gotten hitched into the chair for some unknown reason and it tore as I tried to get it out. As if that wasn't enough, when I was helped with a replacement, I fell down the stairs on my way out. Right after colliding with someone's PA. The coffee stains on that gown have refused to disappear after washing it again and again.

I didn't get the job.

The only thing that had ever gone well for me without hitches was my education, not the process of getting it but each time I defeated the dark forces of fate in my life and actually studied, I always got wonderful grades so I focused on that and I did get a first class degree, thank God. I mean, why else would I be invited for this interview by the biggest Real Estate company in New York?

But then, through the process of getting that degree, I saw hell. I endured rain beating me on the one day that I forgot to come out with an umbrella, my feet hitting different furniture in every room I entered, tripping on my own feet for no reason and so many others that I couldn't even begin to remember.

As I went through my almost non-existent wardrobe, sorry, trunk, I brought out three different outfits. One was definitely going to burn, another was going to be too ugly even though it looks amazing on everyone else and the last pair was going to be nearly perfect; it'll just have a few holes on the upper side.

I'd gotten used to it and just combined the parts of the three of them that was salvageable and this time, it was that black skirt that I'd sewn the middle part a million times and the blue shirt that I had wrestled out of the hands of a chubby rat in my beat down, tiny room.

If anyone moved too fast in the scary thing, it could collapse but that's what I could afford and my parents made sure of that even though my sister was given the mansion on the other side of town.

I was the daughter of a Mayor and yet, I lived my life in constant problems.

I didn't even blame them anymore, who would want to be associated with someone like me? I've always failed to understand why my life was the way it was and instead, found ways to survive through it.

Which was why as I walked down the streets of Brooklyn with my weirdly matching outfit, a broken heel and threw photocopies of my credentials, I anticipated my daily dose of mishaps.

Just like I'd predicted, someone rammed into me by the pathway even though there was enough space for three people to pass by.

My papers scattered all over the floor and the asshole walked away without sparing me a glance.

I took deep breaths as usual, muttering my mantra that no longer did its job;

“It's not their fault that the universe is using them against me,” I recited over and over again as I picked up the scattered files.

Some fell on water, others were too stained to be presentable but since there were three copies of each, I was able to gather them and put them back in the file holder.

I plastered a smile on my face and walked on.

I didn't bother hailing down a taxi, scared to put another life in danger which was why I was stuck in this town no matter how much I hated it. I already had one man's death on my conscience and I wasn't ready to increase the body count.


I walked into the skyscraper of Legacy Real Estate and asked myself one more time what made them decide to even interview me. They were the best in the city and I had responded to their advert out of a “what's the worst that could happen” mindset.

I nearly bulged my eyes out when I saw the invitation for an interview yesterday. I would have used my last penny to get a new outfit but I didn't really think I'd get the job and I didn't want to regret buying new clothes when my stomach was playing an orchestra for me afterwards.

I looked around the first floor, unsure where to head to before a young man approached me, his perfectly knotted tie complimenting his gray suit. It was an absolute contrast to my blue skirt and white shirt which was obvious to anyone that paid attention that it was old. It was, I wore that shirt to classes from my second year.

“I'm here for an interview Sir,” I answered his questioning gaze.

“Okay, you need to wait over there,” he replied, pointing over to an open door.

I walked into the place, wincing as my toe stubbed on the leg of the cushion. This one was my fault, I was too busy ogling the beautiful office.

I waited for about thirty minutes before someone finally came for me.

“Miss Aria?” An elegantly dressed secretary called for me from the door of the plush waiting area I'd been sitting in.

Thankfully, I'd managed to make it here with very little mishaps, the coffee that was thrown at me missing me by a hair's breadth. My mantra was the only thing that stopped me from going crazy at the gym bro that tripped close to me.

“Here,” I replied, standing up slowly. I wouldn't be surprised if my dress ripped out of the blues.

“Mr. Denver is ready to see you now,” she said with a plastic smile.

I didn't blame the girl, if I did this type of job, I'll have permanent wrinkles from all the fake smiling.

I nodded and followed her, her stilettos walking elegantly across the tiled floor.

I had done so much homework last night and I prayed I didn't sleep off while getting interviewed or my nerves got the better of me and I fainted halfway through. Yes, it has happened before and I woke up in the hospital with a ridiculous medical bill in my face.

But for some wild reason, I had hopes that this time, things will be different and if it isn't, I had looked at my body, I had the perfect curves, dark hair and pouty lips that would definitely sell on only fans and getting a mask shouldn't be that hard.

But I hoped it didn't get to that as I walked into the expensive looking office and for the first time since I could walk, my feet didn't hit anything at all.

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