The streets buzzed with life as I stepped out of the apartment, the morning sun casting long shadows along the sidewalks. The city had its own rhythm—a mix of hurried steps, honking cars, and the distant chatter of people starting their day. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, exhaling slowly.
I needed a job.
Last night, as Daniel and I sat eating in our near-empty apartment, it had really hit me—we couldn't live on the little cash I had forever. I had been stubborn enough to leave without my father's money, which meant every bill, every meal, every tiny expense was now my responsibility. And as much as I wanted to keep Daniel from worrying, he wasn't stupid. He knew we needed stability.
So here I was, walking the streets, scanning shop windows for "HELP WANTED" signs and hoping someone—anyone—would take a chance on me.
The first few places I stopped at were either fully staffed or looking for someone with experience. A café had given me an application, but the manager barely looked at me as she told me they'd "call if anything opened up."
An hour turned into two, and my feet ached from walking. I was about to call it a day when something caught my eye—a sleek, black sign with bold silver letters spelling out Eclipse Nightclub.
I knew the name. Everybody in the city did. It was the most exclusive club in town, known for its luxury, its mystery, and the powerful people who walked through its doors.
I hesitated for only a second before stepping inside.
The place was empty at this hour, but even without the flashing lights and thumping music, it oozed elegance. The floors were polished, the bar was stocked with the finest liquor, and the dim lighting gave everything a golden glow.
I barely had time to take it all in before a voice spoke behind me.
"You lost, sweetheart?"
I turned, coming face-to-face with a woman who looked like she owned the world.
She was in her fifties, but age had only refined her beauty. Dark red lipstick, perfectly styled hair, and a confidence that radiated from the way she carried herself. She wasn't just anyone. She was the owner.
Sophia Moreau.
I recognized her from the magazine covers and social pages. Stories always surrounded her—how she built this place from nothing, how she had powerful connections, how she was one of the most influential women in the city.
"I'm looking for a job," I said, my voice steady despite the sudden nerves twisting in my stomach.
Her eyes skimmed over me, taking me in. "And you think this is the place for you?"
I straightened my posture. "I can work hard. I learn fast."
A small smirk curled her lips. "What's your name?"
"Rose."
She nodded, then turned and walked toward the bar, expecting me to follow. I did.
"I don't usually hire people off the street," she said, picking up a glass and inspecting it as if it held all the answers. "This club… it's not just about pouring drinks and playing music. It's about understanding people. Reading them."
I swallowed, unsure where this was going.
She set the glass down and leaned on the counter, looking at me like she already knew everything about me. "Why are you looking for a job, Rose?"
I hesitated. Most employers wouldn't ask something like that, but I had a feeling Sophia Moreau wasn't like most employers.
"I just moved out," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I need to take care of myself. My brother, too."
Her eyes flickered with something—approval, maybe. Or curiosity.
"You're not from around here," she stated.
I shook my head. "Not really."
For a moment, she didn't say anything, just studied me in that unnerving way. Then, she pushed off the counter and gave a sharp nod.
"Come back tonight," she said. "Dress appropriately. Let's see if you can handle it."
My brows lifted slightly. "That's it?"
"That's it," she confirmed. "Unless you've changed your mind?"
I didn't hesitate.
"I'll be here."
Sophia smiled, like she already knew I would be.
"Good."