The room was cold. Not because of winter, but because the heat hadn't been paid. The apartment was quiet except for the occasional buzz of a flickering lightbulb. Clothes were thrown across the couch. Dirty dishes piled in the sink. A strong smell of instant noodles and stale air clung to everything.
Jace sat at the edge of his mattress, staring at nothing. The screen of his half-dead phone lay face-up beside him. The charger was there, plugged in, but useless. No electricity. Again.
On the table were stacks of unopened letters. Final notices. Rent overdue. Electricity cut-off. Loan repayment reminders. The red ink screamed louder than words ever could.
He dragged his hands down his face. His stomach growled, but he didn't care.
'She called me a loser.'
That sentence rang louder than anything else. Just two days ago, his girlfriend had walked out the door. Said she was tired of waiting. Tired of him. She didn't want to be with a poor man.
He had no parents to call. His mom had died when he was fourteen. His father vanished years ago. No siblings. No friends who would help. No one.
The silence in the room turned heavy. His chest tightened.
He picked up a dull razor from the floor. Just looked at it. Not moving, not crying. Just staring at the sharp edge like it had all the answers.
That's when it appeared.
A flicker of light, hovering above his vision. He blinked.
A floating interface. Blue, translucent, like something out of a sci-fi movie. Words typed themselves across the air.
"Desire Investment System (Activated)."
He froze.
"What… the hell?"
Another line appeared.
"You have been selected for the Desire Investment Program. Spend money on women. Receive twice the amount back after the experience. Funds will be provided. No consequences. No limits."
He didn't move. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he had finally snapped.
"Do you wish to begin?"
There was a soft beep. A yes/no selection floated in front of him.
He stared at it. "What the fuck…"
It beeped again. Then, without him touching anything, it clicked yes.
His cracked phone screen lit up for the first time in days. Messages rolled in. A bank notification.
$5,000 deposited.
His jaw dropped.
He opened the banking app. The number stared back at him.
"Is this real?"
"Select a target. Suggested: Female. Age 20–30. Public profile accessible."
He blinked at the screen. Names and faces began scrolling across the interface, pulled from his social media and contacts. Friends. Exes. Influencers. Classmates.
Then he saw her.
@LUXVEE. Real name: Vanessa. Local fashion influencer. He had followed her for over a year. Glamorous, smug, always teasing her followers with selfies and thirst traps. She once posted a pic in a leather jacket licking a popsicle with the caption: "Only rich men apply."
He selected her.
Immediately, the system transferred another $2,000 to his account.
"Initiate contact. Flirt confidently."
He swallowed hard, wiped his hands, and opened Betagram.
DM Sent: "Hey. I saw you're obsessed with Valentino lately. I know a good place. Want to go shopping this weekend? My treat."
He hit send and waited. His heart pounded. Ten minutes passed.
Then… a reply.
@LUXVEE: "Valentino? Really? "
He smiled for the first time in days.
"Yes."
She sent back a winking emoji. Then:
"Meet me at 2 PM tomorrow. Downtown."
The next day, he cleaned himself up, used part of the System money to rent a sharp suit, and met her at the boutique.
She was even more beautiful in person. Tall, legs long in heels, lips painted red. Her black hair fell in soft waves down her back. Her perfume was expensive, strong and sweet.
She looked him up and down, approvingly.
"Nice to meet you. I didn't expect you to be so handsome." she said.
He smirked. "Let's make this worth your time."
They spent hours at high-end shops. She picked out dresses, shoes, accessories. He paid without flinching. It didn't feel real. She laughed, teased him, called him mysterious.
They had lunch at a rooftop restaurant. She took selfies, tagged the location, hinted at a "new sugar daddy" to her followers. Her phone buzzed constantly with likes.
At first, he felt like a prop. A wallet. But over time, she leaned in closer, touched his arm when she laughed, whispered things in his ear.
She started asking him questions. About his tastes. His preferences. His "type."
"You always spend this much on girls?" she asked with a sly smile, twirling her drink.
"Only when they're worth it," he said.
She smiled wider.
By evening, she didn't want to go home.
"Want to keep the night going?" she asked, biting her lip.
"I booked a suite," he said. "Top floor. Jacuzzi. Wine stocked."
Her eyes seductive.
"You came prepared."
The room was dim, soft golden light from the bedside lamps. She kicked off her heels the moment they walked in. He poured her wine.
She sipped, then looked him in the eyes. "You're not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"Some old man. Some creep. But you… you've got confidence."
She stepped closer. Her fingers ran along his collar. Then down his chest.
"I like confident men."
He grabbed her waist, pulled her in, their faces inches apart.
"Then show me."
She kissed him hard.
Their clothes came off in layers. She straddled him on the edge of the bed, her dress bunched around her waist, lips pressed against his neck.
He unclasped her bra, pulled it off, and kissed down her chest. Her skin was smooth, warm. She moaned softly, grinding against him.
He laid her down and spread her legs, pulled her panties aside, and began fingering slowly. Her hands gripped the sheets. She gasped, legs trembling.
"You're too good at it," she panted.
He didn't stop until she came, arching off the bed, crying out.
She pulled him up, kissed him hard, then pushed him onto his back.
"My turn," she whispered.
She went down on him, slow and wet. Her mouth wrapped around his cock, tongue swirling, taking him deeper with every motion. He groaned, fingers in her hair.
"Fuck…"
She climbed back on, guided him inside her, and began riding. Her hips moved fast, then slow, teasing him, working him deeper with every thrust.
He grabbed her ass, pulled her down harder.
"You like that?" he teased.
"Keep going." she moaned.
He did. Faster. Rougher. Their bodies slammed together. Her tits bounced with every thrust. Sweat dripped between them.
She came again with a cry, shaking on top of him.
He flipped her over, took control, thrusting into her harder than before. Her nails dug into his back. The headboard slammed against the wall.
Her moans turned to screams.
He came deep inside her, hips trembling, gasping against her neck.
They collapsed together, her body wrapped around his.
Later, she was asleep, breathing soft beside him. Her head rested on his chest. Her hair smelled like jasmine.
He stared at the ceiling.
The System appeared again.
"Investment complete."
"$7,000 spent. Two-fold refunded."
His bank app refreshed.
$14,000.
He sat up slowly, careful not to wake her.
He looked at her—naked, beautiful, used to luxury and attention.
He looked at the money.
A dark thrill rolled through him. Not just pleasure. Power.
He had nothing yesterday. And now?
Now he felt like a King.
His phone buzzed.
A message popped up from his manager.
"Where the hell are you? You're two hours late. Get your ass in here or don't bother coming back."
Jace stared at the screen.
Then, he smiled.