(28) Welcome Home

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MY MOUTH WAS WIDE in shock as I listened to everything that Damien told me about the association and how it all works. As he explained, the association is like an exclusive club for the rich and lonely. No one except high-class people knows about it so it's very secretive. The masters—or what Damien said was like their clients—are also asked to sign contracts to keep the confidentiality of things.

     The masters are then given cards according to the money they're willing to spend, something like credit cards. If you can only afford the B-Ranked companions, you are given a blue card, red for A-Ranked companions, and then gold for S-Ranks.

     I thought the gold card was the same card that I had, but Damien clarified that it was different. The card that I have in my possession was special and one of a kind since it's the founder's card. Only my uncle had it.

     Anyway, now that you have the card, the masters can then scan it into their computers and they'll be brought to a website. Based on the card they have, they'll be shown the list of the companion's under the rank they chose. The money you'll spend ranges from thousands to even millions, which is fucking crazy.

     "So the most expensive card is the gold card, right? Then I'll be able to see thef companions under the S Rank and choose. But at the party, there were just four of them under the S-Rank. Wouldn't that be hard on their part?" I ask, now fully engrossed with all this information about my uncle's supposed legacy.

     "Not really. Among a hundred masters, only two or three are able to afford the gold card. As I said, this card is worth millions, and prices also depend on the companion you're going to choose and how long you're willing to spend with them," Damien explains to me.

     "Then if I somehow choose a companion whose name is Hunter, how much would I be spending?" I then ask.

     Damien scratches his chin and thinks about it carefully. If I remember correctly, he hasn't been working as a companion for a couple of years now so maybe he doesn't remember the—

     "About five million dollars...a night," Damien suddenly blurts out, making me widen my mouth in shock.

     People paid five million dollars a night to fucking sleep with him, while I'm here riding his dick for free. I honestly shouldn't feel proud of something like that, but I am.

     "The longest master I had made a contract with me that lasted for an entire week. He paid thirty-five million dollars for that and he barely even touched me. He was pretty old, but I did jack him off from time to time to compensate for it," Damien casually tells me. When he saw my reaction, he quickly shakes his head and tells me, "O-Of course that was just a job. There were no strings attached or anything. I didn't—"

     "I don't care about that," I quickly tell him. "All I care about is that someone paid you thirty-five million fucking dollars yet you let me work my butts off to put food on our table."

     "Babe, you're not focusing on the important part right now," Damien tries to tell me, amused by how I am reacting to all this.

     "Anyway, back to the topic. when you scan the card, you won't actually see the faces of the companions, but instead, you'll see their dog counterparts," Damien then explains to me.

     "So you choose the dog you want, and then a week later they turn into a human?" I ask, and Damien started smiling from ear to ear.

     "That's the tricky part," he tells me. "We actually don't turn into humans."

     "What?"

     "We were never dogs, to begin with," Damien finally reveals to me, and when I tell you that my jaw fucking dropped, well, my jaw fucking d r o p p e d.

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