Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Elena’s POV

The courtyard was quiet, but my heart wasn’t.

“I can’t stay,” I whispered, pulling my hand away from Valerio’s steady grip. My voice cracked on the edges.

“My father… he needs me.I have to go...”

Valerio’s eyes narrowed. Shadows lingered in their depths, unreadable and heavy. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. He just stood there, towering, his face set like stone.

“You are safer here,” he said at last, calm but final.

Tears burned the back of my eyes. I shook my head. “Safety doesn’t matter. He is my father. He gave me everything. If I don’t go and help, then what’s left of me?”

I didn’t tell him why she needed to help her father because a part of her knows that this is a very dangerous man.

Silence stretched, broken only by the rustle of the tall trees surrounding the castle-like house.

I couldn’t stop it anymore. The sob broke free. My knees buckled, and I pressed both hands to my face, shaking with the weight of it all: the fire, the prison, Luka, Sofia, the slap, the coins, the humiliation.

Valerio let me cry. He didn’t move to hold me, didn’t look away either. He just… watched, like he was measuring the strength that came even through tears. Finally, he sighed, long and low, then stepped back.

“Go,” he said quietly.

I blinked through the blur. “What?”

His jaw tightened. “If you must walk back into the world bleeding, then go. But remember you walked away from me.”

The gate creaked open at his gesture. I stumbled toward it, wiping my face with trembling hands. The massive gates loomed, dark iron that seemed to mock my small, fragile body as I passed through them.

And then I was outside. Alone again.

The night smelled of rain and smoke. I wrapped my arms around myself and started walking down the road.

That’s when I saw it.

A flyer.

It was half-crumpled on the ground, fluttering in the breeze. I bent down and picked it up. Bold gold letters stretched across the top:

“Ushering Staff Wanted , Engagement Party.”

Pay: $50 per hour.

My breath caught. $50 an hour? Even if I worked the whole night, I could maybe walk away with close to $500. It wasn’t even a drop in the ocean compared to $7,654,274.68… but it was something. And right now, something was better than the nothing I carried.

“They must be really rich,” I muttered to myself, sighing.

I hurried down the street, following the address at the bottom of the flyer.

The office was bright, cold, with glass doors that reflected my tired face back at me. A man in a crisp suit looked up from behind the counter as I walked in. His eyes swept over me once.

I froze under the weight of that stare. My reflection in the glass confirmed what he saw: my dress still stained with soot, my hair tangled, the bandage at my brow smudged with fresh blood. My cheeks burned.

“You’re here for the ushering job?” he asked flatly.

“Yes,” I said quickly, nodding. My voice trembled. “Please,I’ll work. I can do anything.”

He leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. “You look too dirty. Too… rough for this kind of event. The guests expect class. Clean faces. Girls who look polished.”

I dropped to my knees before I could stop myself. Pride had already been broken earlier tonight; what was left to protect?

“Please,” I begged, hands pressed together. “Please, sir. I need this job. I just need… something. I won’t let you down.”

He studied me for a long moment, his mouth twisting. Then he reached under the desk and pulled out a folded plastic bag. “Uniform’s in there. Go change. Bus leaves in an hour.”

Relief surged through me. I grabbed the bag with trembling hands and rushed to the changing room.

The uniform clung like a second skin. A short, tight black dress that hugged every curve I wished to hide. The neckline plunged too low, leaving my breasts nearly spilling out. Stockings slid up my legs, sheer and glossy, with black heels that pinched at the toes.

When I looked in the mirror, I almost laughed. Or cried.

“This looks more like a strip gig than an ushering job,” I whispered to myself. But I didn’t complain. Couldn’t.

I smoothed the skirt, pulled my shoulders back, and stepped out to join the line of other girls. They all looked perfect makeup flawless, hair styled, perfume lingering in the air. I looked like a cracked vase among crystal glasses.

Still, I climbed onto the bus with them.

The manager clapped his hands at the front. “Listen carefully. You will smile. You will stand straight. You will not speak to the guests unless spoken to. Your job is simple: guide, serve, and stay invisible. Understood?”

The girls nodded. I nodded too, though my thoughts were already drifting. I wasn’t invisible I was desperate. And desperate people found ways.

As the bus rolled through the glittering city, I pressed my forehead to the window. My mind spun with numbers. $500 tonight, maybe. Still millions away. But maybe one job would lead to another. Maybe God hadn’t closed every door yet.

“Should I sell my kidney ?” I thought immediately we entered the venue.

The venue glowed like a palace. Crystal chandeliers, golden drapes, tables draped in silk. The air smelled of champagne and roses.

I took my place with the others, tray balanced carefully in my trembling hands. Guests flooded in men in tuxedos, women in glittering gowns. Laughter echoed, music floated, the kind of music rich people played when their world had no cracks.

I tried to focus. Step, serve, smile. Step, serve, smile. But my body was weak. My legs shook under the weight of the heels. Hunger twisted my stomach. Still, I pushed. I had to.

Hours slipped by. Midnight crept closer. My eyes burned, but I kept going.

Then came the announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC called, “please welcome the bride and groom to the stage!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. I lifted my tray, steadying the champagne flutes. My heart softened for a moment. Whoever they were, at least they had joy tonight. At least someone’s world hadn’t burned down.

I stepped forward, ready to serve.

And then I saw them.

Sofia.

Luka.

My whole body froze.

She clung to his arm like she’d won a trophy. Diamonds sparkled on her neck, her smile wide and cruel. He stood tall, smug, every inch the man who had thrown coins at me like I was dirt.

The tray shook in my hands. The glasses trembled.

Sofia’s eyes met mine across the room. Recognition flared and then delight.

“Well, well,” she purred loud enough for the people nearby to hear.

Her expensive Jimmy Cho $6,000 designer heels slid forward. Deliberate.

I didn’t see it in time. My foot caught. The tray flew.

I crashed to the floor. Glass shattered, champagne splashing cold across my chest, soaking the too-tight dress. A sharp tear split the fabric.

Gasps turned into laughter.

The whole crowd laughed.

I lay sprawled on the ground, humiliated, drinks dripping from my hair, dress clinging to my skin while the buttons all tore leaving my breast which was half way outside my pink old lacy bra flashed to the crowd. My cheeks burned as tears welled in my eyes.

Sofia leaned down just enough for me to hear, her voice sugar-laced venom.

“Looks like some people never learn their place.”

And the room laughed louder.