I was on vacation in Thailand, for the first time. The street scenes were breathtaking and vibrated with almost an electric pulse. "Wow!" This was nothing like my home country back in 'England.'

Pretty women were smiling as Jake walked past Go Go bars calling him handsome...

I was flattered, never having quite experienced anything like this before and suddenly felt alive. Their coy invitations to come inside and enjoy their sexy companionship were a serious temptation. However, for the time being, I just wanted to soak it all in and enjoy the night.

I was ready to pack it in when I spotted this fantastic looking woman.

"Oh my God, she was the most beautiful woman

I had ever seen!"

She seemed to notice me staring at her and gave me a nice smile. The humid Bangkok air clung to my skin as I wandered down Sukhumvit Road, neon signs blurring into streaks of pink and green.

My first night in Thailand, and already it felt like stepping into a fever dream—laughter spilling out of open-air bars, the sizzle of street food, women in sequined dresses calling out,

"Handsome man, come drink with me!"

I grinned, shaking my head no, until she stepped into the light.

Her name was Ploy...

She leaned against the doorway of the Lucky Star Go-Go Bar, her jet-black hair cascading over one shoulder, eyes like dark amber. When she smiled, the excitement of the streets seemed to quiet.

"You look lost," she said, her voice low, teasing.

"Maybe I am," I admitted.

She took my hand, her fingers cool. "Let me help you find your way."

Inside, the bar throbbed with bass. Ploy ordered us whiskey, her laughter sharp and bright over the noise. "You’re different," she said, leaning close. "Not like other men."

I wasn’t. By midnight, I’d paid her bar fine—2,000 baht, the equivalent of $60—and followed her back to my hotel. She smelled like jasmine and cigarette smoke.

"Tell me about yourself," I said later, tracing the curve of her bare shoulder.

She stiffened. "Not much to tell. My family… they need money. My father, Thanawat, he’s a tuk-tuk driver. My mother, Somsri, sells flowers. My sisters, Mali and Dao—" Her voice cracked. "I send them everything."

I pulled her closer. "You’re brave."

She looked up, eyes glistening. "No one’s ever said that to me."

.........

For weeks, I ignored the warnings. Ploy’s shifts at Lucky Star grew shorter as my ATM withdrawals grew larger. "Just until I can find another job," she promised, her arms around my neck.

But then her sisters started joining us—Mali, sharp-tongued and restless; Dao, barely eighteen, her smile too sweet. "They want to practice English," Ploy said, as Mali ordered lobster and Dao giggled over cocktails. The bill that night: 8,000 baht.

"You’re too kind Jake," Ploy whispered later, her lips against my ear. "My family loves you."

I wanted to believe her.

The demands began quietly. A gold bracelet for Somsri ("To show your respect," Ploy explained). A new motorbike for Thanawat ("The old one breaks every day"). Then, one evening, Ploy’s fingers trembled as she handed me her phone.

"My mother’s sick," she said. A hospital bed filled the screen, Somsri’s face pale beneath an oxygen mask. "The medicine… it’s,

it's 100,000 baht!"

I transferred the money. "Thank you," Ploy sobbed, clinging to me. "I’ll pay you back, I swear—"

"Don’t...