I WAS A PROSTITUTE & MY DAD WHO HAD DIVORCED MY MOM HIRED ME FOR THE NIGHT EPISODE 6

2nd Aug, 2025 Views 55

Written by: © Gambo Elvis

I woke up that morning still curled up in bed. My body was sore, not from touch, but from the weight of yesterday’s confusion. A knock tapped gently at my door.

“Yes? Give me a moment,” I called out.
I knew it had to be him—my dad. I dressed up quickly.
As a woman who had lived a certain kind of life, I had gotten used to sleeping half-dressed—just my panties on. Nights were often spent in strange rooms, with different men who didn’t want conversation, only the company they paid for. Quick, cold, and transactional.

Once I was fully dressed, I said, “You can come in now.”

But it wasn’t him.

It was the housemaid.
“Madam, Mr. Brad is asking you to come down to the dining room.”
“Is he already there?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes, Madam.”

“What’s with the ‘Madam’ sef?” I said, irritated. “Don’t you know why I came here last night?”
The maid bowed slightly and replied, “Mr. Brad said from now on, I should show you the utmost respect... that you are his first daughter.”

“First daughter?” I echoed, my heart skipping a beat.

“Is he married? With kids?” I asked, now suspicious.
“Yes, Madam.”
“Where are his wife and children then?”
“I wouldn’t know, but I believe he’s the best person to answer that.”

I was stunned. He told me Mom was the only woman he had ever loved. But now, the maid was saying he had a whole family somewhere?

I walked downstairs, emotions tangled in my chest.
He smiled warmly when he saw me.
“Welcome, my princess. You’re in your father’s house now.”

He sounded like a king greeting a long-lost heir. I should’ve smiled—but I didn’t. I wasn’t craving breakfast. I wanted answers. I needed to hear his own version of the past.
Everything the maid told me had shaken me. I sat there, feeling like royalty while my mother’s condition was getting worse every single day. That guilt stung sharper than hunger.

“My daughter,” he began, “I know you still hate me for walking away from your mother. I understand. But listen… Most great people were once broken. You cannot save others if you’ve never felt their pain. Only someone who has walked through fire can speak of heat. That’s why gold must be tested in flames before it shines.”

I stared at him, struggling between my pain and his poetic wisdom.
“Are you a preacher now? Talking destiny and greatness… but you still hire girls like me for the night?” I asked, voice low but firm.

He didn’t flinch.
“I’m not a preacher. Not a prophet either,” he said. “I’m a realist.”

“What do you mean by that?”
“A realist is someone who lives by the truth, does good when he can, but never denies the reality around him. He accepts what is, not just what should be.”

His words confused me, but there was something strangely comforting in his tone.
“Eat your food,” he said, gently. “After that, I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

For the first time since I arrived, I felt a little safer. He hadn’t touched me the previous night. It was the only time I had shared a room with a man and slept in peace.
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To be continued...on PAUL Elvis christian stories.