Yoric was merely a stepping stone. My true benefactor was Ryder Huxley, a man of immense wealth and influence, albeit married and only sporadically present at our shared villa. During his infrequent visits, I was his devoted companion, catering to his every desire.
With Ryder, I could truly be myself. Despite his occasional outbursts, I tolerated his abuse. What he did not know was that my ambition was much greater than he imagined. The four hundred thousand dollars he gave me annually was far from enough.
Beyond Ryder, I sought connections with higher-status patrons. These relationships afforded me both opportunities and considerable wealth. Take Erwin, for instance. His fifteen thousand-dollar offer for just two hours was generous, but it was merely a baseline. Anything less would be an insult to my value and allure.
Every day, I arrived on time, left late and completed my work with meticulous attention to detail. In the eyes of others, I was the perfect woman – elegant in public, capable at home. This was precisely the image I wanted to project.