Chapter 1

I worked as a blind massage therapist. Because I was good with my hands, I had a lot of regulars who booked private home sessions.

The tips were always incredible. People tend to be generous when they think you can't see the life they're living.

Then, one day, my sight suddenly returned. It was a miracle I couldn't explain.

I thought about telling the world, but then I realized I was making three times more money than a sighted therapist. I decided to keep up the act.

But that one choice led me into a memory that still haunts me to this day.

1

My client for this session was a woman named Milly. She was in her early thirties and one of my most frequent regulars.

I rang the bell of a sprawling, high-end villa on the edge of the city. Back when I was truly blind, I just knew she lived in a quiet neighborhood and paid better than anyone else.

Now that I could see, it was obvious she was swimming in cash.

"Come on in!" a woman's voice called out from inside as the door clicked open.

I stepped inside and was immediately floored by what I saw. A woman with an incredibly refined face stood before me.

She had long, wavy hair and wore a bold shade of red lipstick that matched her nails. She was wearing nothing but a thin, pale pink silk nightgown.

"So this is Milly," I thought. I was stunned by how fit she was.

When I was blind, I could tell she had a small frame, and I always pictured her as a delicate, petite girl. The reality was the exact opposite―she was a total bombshell.

"It's just you. Hurry up and get inside," Milly said, grabbing my arm. She turned and headed toward the living room sofa without a second thought.

I faked it, tapping my white cane on the floor as I followed her. I made sure to move with that hesitant, practiced gait.

Behind the living room, there was a lush backyard surrounded by a massive stone wall. Near the glass doors, a professional massage table was already set up.

Before I could reach the table, I spotted movement on the stairs. A young guy in his early twenties was creeping down from the second floor.

He was wearing nothing but a white bathrobe, and his chest was bare. He wasn't wearing shoes, probably so I wouldn't hear him.

He blew a kiss to Milly and made a few suggestive gestures. Then, he slipped out the back door.

I kept my face neutral, but my eyes drifted to a framed photo on the wall. It was a wedding picture of Milly and a man who had to be at least sixty years old.

"I can't believe she's cheating on her husband right under his nose," I thought. But then again, she was in the prime of her life. That old man probably couldn't keep up with her.

I walked toward the table, using my cane to 'feel' the furniture around me.

"Where are we focusing today, Milly?" I asked.

Milly walked over and took my hand. "Follow me."

Her voice sounded exhausted, yet there was a strange, lingering trace of satisfaction in it.

As she got closer, the scent of her perfume and the heat of her skin hit me. It was an intoxicating mix of hormones and expensive floral notes.

She led me to the table and let her nightgown slide off her shoulders before lying face down.

"Let's get started. I have a meeting later this afternoon," she muttered.

The view in front of me made my heart skip a beat. I had to remind myself of my professional role.

I forced myself to focus, opened the bottle of essential oil, and began the session.

The moment my hands touched her skin, a low moan escaped her lips. She seemed to realize how it sounded and quickly apologized.

"Sorry about that. I was just so exhausted from yesterday," she whispered.

I chuckled softly, trying to keep the vibe light. "I was worried I was being too rough already."

Milly turned her head slightly to look back at me. "Actually, I want you to go harder. I really need to let go of some tension."

"I'll do my best. Just tell me if it's too much," I replied.

"It's fine. Just keep going."

"By the way, have you been having trouble sleeping lately?" I asked, working the muscles in her shoulders.

"How did you know?" she asked, her voice tight as she tried to stifle another sound.

"I can feel it in your pressure points. Your energy flow is completely blocked," I explained.

I pressed down on a specific spot on her neck. Her entire body jolted, and another muffled groan left her throat.

"I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?" I asked quickly.

Milly looked like she was in heaven. "No, no... don't stop. Keep doing exactly that."

She continued, "You're the only one who actually knows what they're doing. Other therapists just go through the motions."

"Is there any way to fix this insomnia? I haven't had a good night's rest in days," she asked, biting her lower lip.

"It's possible, but I'd need to deep-tissue your neck and back. It's going to be pretty intense, and I'm not sure you can handle the pain..."

In my line of work, you learn a bit about medical theory. Based on what I was feeling, her body was truly reaching a breaking point.

Her blood flow was restricted by years of stress and bad posture. If she didn't fix it, she was going to end up in the hospital.

Milly didn't hesitate. "It's fine. Do whatever you have to do. I can take it."

As soon as she said it, she shifted her position on the table to give me better access.

I stopped holding back. I opened a fresh bottle of oil, coated my hands, and began a standard deep-tissue routine on her neck.