Chapter 6: Contractually Yours

Jem's POV 

September 7th finally arrived—the event day—the D-day everyone has been going crazy over.

I woke up knowing today mattered more than any other shift I’d ever worked.

The pay alone was shocking.

I couldn’t imagine how many months of night shifts it would take to earn this much. 

I promised myself I wouldn’t mess this up.

The party was already in full swing.

I was already dressed in my waiter’s uniform, a clean white towel resting naturally over my shoulder.

I was good at this.

It felt like I’d been a waiter my whole life, considering most of the shift jobs I worked so far.

I moved through the ballroom, carefully choosing my steps so I wouldn’t trip over the long, flowing gowns of wealthy ladies I’d only ever seen on TV.

Sometimes, I'd froze out of shock. I wouldn't be able to hide it—people I only ever saw on TV were seated everywhere, dressed in expensive suits and gowns.

However, I didn’t let the luxury distract me completely.

I straightened my uniform and focused. This was work, nothing more.

I need the money so I've got to work.

I walked round and round serving drinks, checking tables, and showing guests to the restroom. 

I cleared used plates and glasses, rushing to clean up any small mess a guest made, bowing my head politely as I moved from table to table.

I was just clearing empty glasses from a table when the room suddenly erupted with loud claps and high-spirited cheers that filled the hall. 

I glanced up just in time to see Dante Williams walk in.

I was stunned.

That's him!

“The man with the electric body!” My brain suddenly released the joke and I almost laughed out loud.

Dante stepped onto the stage and welcomed everyone and another round of loud claps erupted. 

Then he began to give his appreciation speech, thanking all the guests for coming to celebrate his niece, Mara. The crowd applauded loudly.

Despite how interested I was to stand and watch Dante speak, it's so sad that I couldn't admire him for long.

I needed to work.

So I stayed focused on my tray—speeches didn’t concern me. 

I just got an order from a guest to grab more wine but just as I was about to turn around, I suddenly bumped into someone hard. 

I looked up and froze at once. 

It was Mara—yes, that Mara—my ex—dressed elegantly that I could say she had the prettiest gown that flowed too long behind her, with a crown on her head and a ceremonial sash draped across her chest with her name written boldly around it.

Shock hit me instantly. This was her party. She was Dante’s niece? The successor everyone was talking about?

Fuck, I didn't expect this.

I brushed off the oddness of the situation quickly and apologized to her for stepping on her. “I’m sorry,” I said at once, bowing my head slightly—just as I would have done with any other random person if I had accidentally stepped on them.

With that, I stepped back, and was ready to walk away. 

I wanted no problems.

This job pays too high for me to ruin it.

However, just as I was about to leave, Mara grabbed my arm and whispered furiously. “What are you doing here? Why are you here?” Her eyes burned into me.

“You can see my uniform,” I replied sharply. “You should be able to tell that I’m working.” I added smoothly and with that, I yanked my arm away from her and tried to leave again.

She stepped forward and blocked my way. “This is my party, Jem. I control this room,” she hissed. “If you know what’s best for you, leave now.”

“Of course. It’s your party, and I’m not here to ruin anything,” I said calmly. “I’m here to work. I’ll leave when I’m paid,” I added honestly.

Mara’s face twisted.

I bet she hated my confidence and composure already.

She hated that, after everything she’d done to me, I was still alive—calm, collected, and smiling as I moved through crowds that were nowhere near my match.

I bet she thought I was dead for good… that I’d lost everything. Well, she was right about that. I really had lost everything. But guess who landed a job that paid a hundred times more than all my part-time jobs combined—just to serve as a waiter for a day?

Before I could think of the worst she could do, she'd already rushed to grab a glass of wine from a random waitress and without hesitation, she poured it on herself. Then she screamed, “What did you just do? You spilled wine on me!”

Every head turned towards us. Conversations died. Even Dante’s speech stopped mid-way.