SLOW DOWN BABY

"Is this the right choice? But I've never set foot in a place like this before."

Outside the nightclub gates, a striking young woman stood amid the chaos of the capital. Her eyes followed the line of luxury cars pulling up, one after another, delivering their wealthy patrons.

Her gaze was sharp, but her mind was in turmoil-a tangled mess of doubts until the chime of her phone cut through the warm night air.

Startled, Zavira's shoulders twitched. Her left hand slipped instantly into her jeans pocket, retrieving the device. As the screen illuminated her face, the caller ID showed a single word:

"Mom." She swiped the green icon to the right.

"Yes, Mom...?" she answered softly.

From the other end came a quiet, gut-wrenching sob. Zavira frowned.

"Mom, what happened?"

Only silence replied.

Not a single word followed-just broken, ragged weeping echoing in her ear. Zavira called out again, once, twice, three times, yet the tears remained her only answer.

"Mom, what's going on?!"

"You have one month to pay every single cent!" a woman's voice thundered through the line, sharp as a crack of a whip. "If you don't, get out of that house, or I'll make sure the two of you rot behind bars!"

Zavira froze. That wasn't her mother; it was Mrs. Wulan, the loan shark who had been tormenting their family with endless debt. Then, beneath the shouting, she caught the sound of her little brother's shallow, frantic breathing.

"Sis... where are you? I'm so scared," he whimpered quietly, his voice muffled, as if he were hiding.

Zavira could picture it clearly. Her little brother, tucked behind the wooden wardrobe in the living room, trembling while clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle his cries.

Her fists clenched tight, a sharp ache piercing her chest.

"Dear God... Zikri, listen to me carefully. Stay hidden until she leaves, okay? I promise I'll come home with the money."

"Mom and Dad are getting yelled at, Sis. They hit Dad," Zikri sobbed.

Her fingernails dug into her palms until her knuckles turned white.

Despicable monster, she cursed silently. "I'm so sorry, Iki. I'm not there right now. Just stay hidden until that parasite leaves."

"Okay, Sis. Come home soon with the money. Please... Mom and Dad..."

The line went dead. Zavira exhaled a long, heavy breath. Her mind was racing, but one fact stood clear: she needed that money tonight.

"Forgive me, God."

Without hesitation, she stepped into the club, the pounding bass reverberating against her ribs.

Though her stride seemed confident, inside she was drowning in panic. The cash was needed immediately, and this was the only desperate path left open to her.

At the front counter, she approached a woman dressed in solid black.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where the manager's office is?"

The woman arched an eyebrow, scanning Zavira from her scarf down to the heels of her shoes. Without a word, she raised a finger and pointed toward the back.

"Second floor, straight ahead, then take a right. Mr. Daniel's office is right there."

Zavira gave a faint nod of thanks and headed toward the cold stairs.

Her steps grew heavier as she neared a door marked "Management." Just as she raised her hand to knock, the door swung open, and a man stepped out, an edge of panic on his face.

"Sir, I'm Zavira," she said nervously.

The man pointed at her, running an appraising look from her shoes to the top of her head. A thin smirk crossed his lips, but his eyes held no warmth.

"Are you still a virgin?" he asked bluntly.

The question struck like a bolt of lightning. Zavira froze, stunned. The words made no sense to her.

"Excuse me? What do you mean?"

"I asked you a question. Are you a virgin or not?!" he snapped, his tone rushed, as if pressed for time.

Zavira stared at him, bewildered, before nodding slowly. The movement was hesitant, as if she couldn't quite believe she was confirming it.

Before she could ask anything more, the man grabbed her wrist, dragged her into a nearby restroom, and shoved a uniform roughly into her hands.

She caught the fabric, her fingers trembling. Her thoughts spun out of control-what did her personal life have to do with the job she was applying for? None of it added up.

"What are you waiting for?! Get changed now!" he barked. "You need money, don't you?"

Cornered, Zavira could only nod. She locked the door and began undressing with shaking hands.

The uniform felt completely wrong against her skin. It was shockingly revealing, the hemline cutting high above her mid-thigh. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, disbelief written across her face.

"Are you done yet? Get out here! Don't keep me waiting!" his voice boomed through the door.

"Y-yes, Sir!"

Startled, she hurried out with hesitant steps. Facing her, Daniel smiled faintly, an appreciative gleam in his eyes as he took in her appearance.

"Perfect! Now, you have one job. Take this drink to VIP Room 305. There's an angry guest inside. Just make sure you cater to him properly."

Zavira stopped cold, her eyes wide with confusion.

"Sir, I came here for regular work."

Daniel's expression hardened, his brows knitting into a sharp scowl.

"You need fast cash, don't you? He can pay you an obscene amount."

"But I-"

"Quiet!"

He cut her off, seized her arm firmly, and dragged her down the hall toward the VIP suites.

With no strength to resist, Zavira followed, her heart hammering against her ribs as though it would burst.

At the far end of the corridor, near a staging station lined with bottles, a crash echoed from behind a thick wooden door, sounding like glass shattering on the floor.

"Where is the girl I asked for?! Can't Daniel find a single one?"

"I'm sure he's tracking someone down right now, Sir!" a man in a formal suit said, trying to diffuse the temper in the room.

"Damn you, Sherina!" cursed Xafier Leonardo Sebastian.

"Pardon me, Sir!"

Daniel pushed the door open and pulled Zavira inside. Her entire body locked with tension.

Across the room sat a man with his legs crossed, a lit cigarette smoldering between his fingers. His eyes were glazed, feverish with a heat that seemed to consume him.

"Here is what you requested, Mr. Xafier," Daniel said, addressing the man standing rigidly beside the sofa.

Samuel scrutinized Zavira with a sharp, probing gaze.

"Are you certain she's clean? No complications?"

"I guarantee it, Sir! Completely untouched!"

Zavira's brow furrowed. "What is this supposed to mean?"

Suddenly, the man named Xafier rose to his feet. His imposing height made Zavira shrink back. He stared down at her with bloodshot eyes, then gripped her arm with bruising force.

"I want her," he growled, waving a dismissive hand to order the other two men out.

Before she could run, Zavira was shoved backward, her spine hitting the softness of the mattress.

She tried to push herself up, but before she could move, his full weight came down over her, pinning her completely to the bed.

"Serve me now!"

"Are you deaf? I said serve me. Now!"

"I-I..."

Zavira's body went rigid. His words didn't register clearly in her mind, leaving her drowning in confusion over everything that was happening.

Without thinking, both of her hands slammed against Xafier's chest with all the strength she had.

"Let me go! Don't touch me!" she screamed, her body writhing desperately to break free from his grip.

Xafier only let out a low laugh. The aphrodisiac Shiena, his wife, had secretly given him was still running through his veins. It made him unable to tell the difference between boundaries and desire anymore. He'd chosen to come to the nightclub instead of sleeping with that woman.

All he felt now was burning heat consuming every part of him. His vision was locked solely on the woman beneath him.

"Please let me go, Sir!" Zavira begged.

Ignoring her resistance, he slowly but surely lowered his face to her neck. The tip of his lips brushed against her skin, leaving warm, slightly painful kisses along her neck all the way to her jaw.

"Ahh, stop!" Zavira gasped, even as she tried to hold back. Her hands moved frantically with nowhere to go.

But to Xafier, that sound was the sweetest music in his ears. Without hesitation, his hand crawled up to Zavira's twin mounds still covered by the thin uniform.

Then he squeezed them tightly, making Zavira arch beneath him. They fit perfectly in his hands, stoking the fire in him higher.

"Argh! Wh-what are you doing, Sir?! Stop!" she said, her voice trembling.

"Anything I need to do... I'll do everything and pay you more than you could ever need. Just... obey me now," Xafier murmured.

Zavira went silent. Her head felt empty, like hollow cloth, while tears slipped down her cheeks. Her mind raced to her little brother hiding at home, and the debt that had to be paid now.

Xafier, already impatient, went straight for what he'd been craving. This time his lips found Zavira's soft ones. He devoured them with rough, hungry movements, pressing deeper as if demanding more from the woman under him.

Xafier kissed her with rough desperation, while Zavira tried to hold back every sensation that shot through her body.

"Hngh."

A moan escaped her lips when Xafier's hand slipped under her mini skirt, touching her thigh. She squirmed.

"Nggh... stop," she whispered weakly.

Xafier ignored her. His hand began stroking Zavira's thigh from bottom to top. Every movement made her skin prickle, her hair stand on end.

"Ahh!"

Zavira bit her lip until it almost bled, but another moan slipped out when his fingertip touched the part of her that was already wet.

"You feel that, don't you?" Xafier whispered, his warm breath in her ear as his hand began stroking her gently.

Zavira panted, eyes squeezed shut. Tears were still falling down her cheeks, but her body was already responding to every touch.

Without saying anything, Xafier pulled down his pants. His hand went back under her skirt, caressing the part of her that was ready for him, slower this time.

"I'll only ask once. Are you ready?!"

Zavira stayed silent. Her lips trembled. Her eyes stared at the man above her but didn't really see him. Her mind was split in two. But finally, she lowered her gaze and nodded slowly. For Iki. For the debt that had to be paid.

"Yes," Zavira whispered. "But please... go slow."

Without wasting another second, Xafier began tearing off their clothes in a rush. Zavira's uniform was thrown to the corner of the room, followed by the rest, until both their bodies were bare against each other.

When she saw him, Zavira swallowed hard. Her mind went blank, like she'd lost all ability to think. But the thought of the money she desperately needed made it impossible to turn away. There was no going back now... this was the only way.

"I'll do it," she said in a weak but firm voice.

Xafier nodded, then slowly lowered himself. He propped his body up so he wouldn't crush her, while guiding himself toward the center of her already damp body.

"Slower, Sir. It hurts!"

"Don't play innocent with me. I've met girls like you before. I doubt you're even still a virgin."

Zavira groaned in pain, her body jerking slightly as she felt herself being filled. Her hands accidentally clutched at Xafier's shoulders.

"Shit, why is she still so tight? Maybe she really hasn't done this before," Xafier muttered.

He pushed in. The moment Xafier entered her slowly, sharp pain ripped through Zavira. Her body stiffened, and then she let out a loud cry.

"Aarrgh! It hurts!"

Red trickled slowly between her thighs, proof that the purity she'd guarded all this time was gone in an instant. Xafier, overtaken by the drugs and lust, didn't care about Zavira's sobs.

Tears streamed down Zavira's face. "Mom... forgive me... I'm sorry."

Then Xafier began moving - slow at first, then picking up speed with every gasp and sound that escaped Zavira's lips.

His breathing grew heavier and rougher. His face is buried in Zavira's neck, leaving soft kisses and bites here and there.

His hands squeezed her twin peaks tightly, while his hips moved deeper, more desperate.

"Ahh..." Xafier groaned, his voice breaking with desire. "I like this."

He sped up, their bodies moving together. Zavira was now responding to every touch and thrust with her own body, even as tears continued to fall.

Xafier's movements grew deeper and faster, carrying them both to the peak.

"Ahhh!"

In an instant, the man groaned low and his body shuddered. Release came hard inside her.

A few moments later, he could no longer hold himself up and collapsed to the side of the bed. His body lay limp, stuck to sheets soaked with sweat and faint traces of red. His breath was still ragged.

Meanwhile, Zavira could only lie there helplessly beside him, her body full of pain and overwhelming exhaustion.

It didn't take long before heavy drowsiness overcame her, and she fell into a deep sleep, though her face was still wet with tears.

When Zavira opened her eyes again, morning sunlight was streaming through the gaps in the curtains. Every part of her body ached, especially down below.

"Ssh," Zavira whimpered softly.

Her eyes accidentally caught sight of a man sitting on the edge of the bed. She immediately grabbed the blanket to cover herself.

On the other side of the bed, Xafier was already sitting upright, buttoning his white dress shirt with composed movements. His gaze was calm - nothing like the madness of last night.

Zavira lowered her head, her hair falling over her face that was red from shame and grief.

"You're awake?" Xafier said coldly.

Zavira didn't answer. Not a single word.

Until suddenly, an elegant black ATM card was tossed right next to her.

"This is your payment!" he said in a tone that allowed no refusal.

Zavira didn't move. Her eyes stayed fixed on the card.

Xafier then stood tall, looking down at her with a deep, unnervingly calm stare.

"I'll pay you far more than that... if you agree to be my kept wife."

"Kept wife?"

Zavira froze.

The words hit her harder than any slap ever could.

"A kept wife?" she repeated softly, her voice trembling between disbelief and fury.

She looked up, meeting Xafier's gaze with red-rimmed eyes. There was rage in them. There was hurt. And there was disgust at being degraded like this. Her chest felt tight.

"Sir, what do you think I am?" Zavira's voice rose. "Some cheap woman you can just buy?"

Her hands clutched the blanket tighter, as if it were the only shield she had left. "I'm not a whore," she said firmly, even though her voice shook at the end.

Xafier only raised the corner of his lips, a thin smile that looked more like mockery.

"Relax," he said, cold and flat. "I never called you a whore."

Zavira let out a short, bitter laugh. "But you're offering me a position even worse than that."

Silence hung between them for a moment. The only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioner - so alien to Zavira's ears, which were still ringing with the storm inside her.

Her eyes fell, unknowingly, on the black ATM card lying on the sheets. The small object looked so out of place. Slowly, with trembling hands, Zavira reached for it.

The moment her fingertips touched the card, her chest ached.

She hated it. She hated this situation. She hated herself for being forced to take it.

But the image of her little brother crying, her mother's choked sobs, and the debt threatening to take their home all came crashing back into her mind without mercy.

"Damn it, why does poverty make me this low," Zavira murmured.

Xafier scoffed.

"There," he said sarcastically. "Still acting all high and mighty, but you took it anyway."

Zavira clenched the card in her fist. Her jaw hardened. "I'm taking this not because I want to. But because I have to."

"Reasons don't matter," Xafier replied coldly. "What matters is the result. And you took it."

He stepped closer, keeping a safe distance, as if everything was already back under his control.

"If you agree to be my kept wife, your life will change. Monthly allowance. A decent place to live. Luxury facilities. You won't have to stand trembling in front of a nightclub like last night ever again."

Zavira stared at him sharply. "And in return?"

Xafier looked at her without blinking. "You have to be ready whenever I need you. To accompany me. To follow me. And yes, to fulfill my biological needs."

Those words made Zavira's stomach churn.

She swallowed hard. "Why me?" she asked finally. "Out of all the women, why me?"

Xafier was silent for a moment, then answered simply, as if it were the most obvious reason in the world.

"Because I was the first to touch you."

Zavira's heart pounded.

"I don't like loose ends," Xafier continued. "We'll get married. Under the table. But only for one year."

"What?" Zavira almost shot up from the bed.

"One year," he repeated flatly. "After that, you're free. You leave with enough compensation to live peacefully. But during that time, don't expect anything more."

He looked straight at her. "Don't fall in love with me. I still have a legal wife."

The question that had been bothering her finally slipped from Zavira's lips.

"If you have a wife, why look for another woman? Why not with her?"

Xafier's expression hardened for a second.

"My marriage to Shiena is just business and family," he said coldly. "There's no love there. And if you're curious, she's the one who gave me that drug."

Zavira gasped.

"Because I've never touched her," Xafier went on. "And she hates it. I'm not interested in touching her either."

Silence fell over the room again.

Zavira lowered her head, tears falling silently. "I... I need time to think."

Xafier immediately shook his head. "I don't like waiting. And I don't like drama."

He grabbed his suit jacket. "Tonight, my driver will pick you up. Be ready."

Without waiting for an answer, Xafier walked out. The door closed with a soft but firm click, like it was locking Zavira's fate inside that room.

Zavira collapsed onto the bed, the black ATM card still clutched tightly in her hand.

Her sobs broke free.

Between the pain, the anger, and the shattering of her pride, she could only mourn one thing - that her life was now at a crossroads she had never imagined.

Zavira shut the bathroom door with trembling hands.

Water poured down from the shower, striking her skin mercilessly. She stood under it, letting the warm water mix with tears that wouldn't stop falling. Her hands scrubbed repeatedly at her neck, shoulders, and body, as if trying to wash away the traces of a night that felt so dirty and painful.

"Go away, go away!" she whispered, her voice breaking.

But the feeling didn't go away. It only pressed harder against her chest until breathing felt heavy. She slid down slowly, sitting on the bathroom floor, hugging her knees. The image of Xafier, the words about being a kept wife, and that black ATM card spun around in her head without mercy.

After what felt like forever, Zavira finally stood. She put on whatever clothes were at hand, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were swollen. Her face was pale.

"I have to go home," she whispered.

The moment she stepped out of that cursed place, the morning air greeted her cold. Her phone buzzed again. Once, twice, over and over. Mom's and Zikri's names kept flashing on the screen. Her chest throbbed.

"I know, I know," she whispered, holding back tears. She couldn't bring herself to answer now.

Her steps led her to an ATM on a street corner. Zavira's hands shook as she inserted the black card. She held her breath when the screen showed the balance.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh God," she whispered, breath catching.

The number was far beyond anything she'd imagined. Her heart raced, torn between relief and fear. She withdrew just enough money, no more, then immediately left, as if afraid the machine might change its mind.

There was no motorbike she could ride. She'd pawned her only vehicle long ago just to eat and survive. So Zavira took an intercity bus, sitting by the window, watching the streets slowly turn into rice fields and modest houses.

Throughout the ride, her phone kept ringing. This time she answered.

"Sis!" Zikri's voice sounded hoarse and panicked. "They're throwing our things out of the house!"

Zavira's heart dropped to her stomach. "I'm on my way, Ki. Hold on, okay? I have the money."

The moment she got off the bus and ran to her house, Zavira saw a sight that nearly made her knees buckle. Their furniture was scattered across the yard. Wardrobe, chairs, mattress all thrown out by force.

"Stop!" Zavira shouted, her voice echoing among the crowd.

Herman sat on the ground, his face wet with tears. Farida was crying hysterically, hugging Zikri who trembled in fear. Neighbors stood around, crying too, but none dared to step forward.

Wulan turned around, a mocking smile clearly etched on her face.

"Oh, look who finally decided to come home. The runaway," she sneered. "Thought you'd run off somewhere."

Zavira stepped forward, eyes blazing. Her hand gripped the ATM card tightly.

She threw it straight at Mrs. Winda's face.

"I didn't run away!" Zavira yelled in fury. "I went to get money! To pay the debt and free my family from a filthy leech like you!"

Everyone fell silent.

"Take your money," Zavira continued, her voice shaking but firm. "And get out of our house. Now!"

Mrs. Winda smirked. "If it's not enough,"she said coldly, "I'll be back."

"Get out!" Zavira snapped.

After they were finally gone, Zavira ran and threw her arms around her family. Mrs. Farida cried out, hugging her daughter tightly. Herman sobbed, patting Zavira's shoulder with trembling hands.

Zikri cried in his sister's arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Zavira whispered over and over.

Suddenly her body felt light. Her vision blurred. The world spun before everything went dark.

---

On the other side of the city, a driver stood in front of Zavira's boarding house with a worried look. He dialed the number he'd been instructed to call.

"Sir, the girl isn't here," he reported.

On the other end, Xafier was silent for a moment.

"Her hometown," he said coldly. "We'll go get her ourselves."

"Get the car ready."