I Was Never Yours Mr Billionaire

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars?!" my friend Esme exclaimed, looking shocked.

I buried my face in my palms helplessly.

"She needs the surgery urgently. The doctors have been trying their best to keep her stable while my mom and I try to raise the money. Mom's working two jobs, I'm working three, but we've only been able to raise $10,000. If we don't get her the treatment soon, something bad is going to happen."

"I know you don't like talking about your father, but right now his help is needed. Have you reached out to him?"

"I've swallowed my pride plenty of times and called him. He picked up once and told me not to bother him. After that, he stopped answering my calls."

"That father of yours is really something. I have some money saved up, I'll send it to you."

"Do you have up to $150,000 saved?" I joked, but it came out miserably.

My heart was filled with so much bitterness at the moment that I felt like I was losing my mind by the minute.

I found everything unfair. Why me?

Why my family?

Why was my sister going through this?

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Esme repeated as if she still couldn't believe the amount. "There has to be something we can do."

I lifted my head and looked at her.

"I heard strippers get tipped nicely if they perform well."

Her eyes widened at me. "You're going to be a stripper?"

I nodded. "I'm considering it."

"Elle, can you even pole dance? And no, no. That kind of job doesn't suit you. Heck, your mother doesn't even like the bartending job you do here, let alone your becoming a stripper."

"I'm running out of options, Esme."

"Janelle, what are you doing chitchatting during work hours?!" my manager's voice sounded.

I flinched as I turned around to face him.

I had come out of the bar to meet up with Esme when she told me she was nearby. I had badly needed someone to talk to.

"You should go in now. I'm going to find a way. I'll go ask some friends, maybe even take out a loan if I have to."

I nodded and quickly hugged her, then hurried back into the bar.

I had no faith in what Esme had just said.

Esme was a struggling young woman like me; there was no way she'd get that kind of money, and I wasn't expecting her to either.

I was just hoping for a miracle.

My sister, Danica, was only fifteen. She had her whole life ahead of her, and I had promised her a good life someday.

She'd had a heart disease since she was nine, and right now it had gotten worse.

She needed surgery, and I had to get the money.

But how?

I felt confused, sad, and angry all at once.

Ten minutes later, I was standing behind the bar in a crisp white shirt and maroon vest, watching wealthy and average-looking people on the dance floor.

"Two martinis, one dry, one dirty, please," a man called from one end of the bar.

"Coming up," I replied and got to work.

The night dragged by agonizingly slowly.

I watched as a woman came to sit at one of the barstools.

She must have been in her late thirties or early forties, but either way, she looked sophisticated.

She was a beautiful redhead, wearing fashionable white-rimmed glasses.

She smiled at me, and I nodded curtly at her.

I couldn't even force a polite smile back if I wanted to. I was too drained.