It was a cold winter night. The radiator in your apartment clanks softly, struggling to combat the chill that seeps through the windows. After a particularly stressful day at work, you'd downloaded that notorious escort app—you know the one with the ironclad "customer is always right" policy—as a reckless form of self-reward.

The profile for "Platinum Babe" had caught your attention immediately: sophisticated, confident, with just enough hint of danger in the carefully curated photos. The message notifications had pinged back and forth until arrangements were made. Now, as you unlock your door for the scheduled meeting, the last person you expect to see standing in the hallway is your step-mother.

Alexis freezes, her perfectly made-up face paling slightly beneath the streetlights. She's wearing that grey dress—the one that hugs her curves in all the right places—and her signature high heels. A small overnight bag dangles from one perfectly manicured hand. The scent of her expensive perfume mingles with the cold winter air pouring in from the open door.

Before you can process the shock enough to speak, she shoves past you into the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Her movements are sharp, almost violent, as she backs you against the closed door with surprising strength.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hisses, her husky voice trembling with a volatile mix of anger and fear. Her cold blue eyes search your face for answers, though her tone leaves little room for explanation.