Chapter 3

CLARK

That morning, I was summoned to the HR office. To meet Alpha Cadmus' demands, I had requested a transfer to work as a casino dealer. The position offered a salary three times higher than my current one, yet it was still far from the amount I needed to reach my target to pay for my father's debt. This is better than nothing.

"Good morning," I greeted our HR coordinator.

"Here's your schedule for tomorrow. These are also your three sets of uniforms. The cost will be deducted from your salary," she explained.

I simply nodded in response. Seeing that she had nothing more to say, I stood up and prepared to leave. My shift had ended, and I was eager to go home and rest. However, as I glanced at the small piece of paper containing my work schedule, my forehead creased in confusion.

Before starting this job, I had clearly requested a three-day rest period—Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—so I could take on additional work elsewhere. I needed this extra income to meet his demands.

"Ahm, Miss," I called out, turning back to her. "I requested to have Friday, Saturday, and Sunday as my rest days," I said politely. I didn't feel the need to explain why.

"That's the schedule given to you by the Head. I can't do anything about it," she said. "If you want, you can go to the boss's office and have him change it," she added.

I couldn't tell if she was serious or just joking, but I decided to brush off her comment and attempted once again to request a change to my schedule.

"I'm sorry, Miss. But shouldn't you just be grateful that Alpha Cadmus agreed to your request. Honestly, I don’t even know what’s so special about you that Mr. Sinclair personally oversaw your transfer," the woman remarked.

Alpha Cadmus, the werewolf with the most mesmerizing pair of eyes I’ve ever seen in my life.

I found myself torn between continuing to press our HR coordinator to adjust my schedule or taking her suggestion to appeal directly to our boss. But how could I be sure he would even agree to meet with me?

I walked out of the HR coordinator's office with slumped shoulders. I hadn’t gone far when my phone suddenly rang. Seeing Alma's name on the screen, I quickly answered.

Alma was my classmate from junior high. Like me, she didn’t come from a wealthy family, so we often partnered up for side jobs. She’s also the one I turned to for help in finding a second job. Alma works as a brand promoter. This pays higher as well, but it wasn't as regular as my current job.

Alma has been recruiting me for this kind of job for quite some time now. She's insisting that I might be able to sell more products because of my looks. I have a well-proportioned figure, with a fuller chest and a slim waist. My thick eyebrows, perfectly complementing my slightly square face, also tend to catch people’s attention.

"Hey, Alma," I greeted her as I answered the call.

"Hey, Clarkie! So, are you all set for later?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh no, I'm really having a problem because the hotel didn't give me a weekend off. Don’t you have any other gigs for me?" I said.

Tonight is the trial run for my gig which Alma arranged for me. If my sales go well, I’ll be scheduled regularly on weekends.

"There is! The part-time job I gave you pays well, plus you’ll make a lot in tips if you sell a lot of condoms at bar. A little flirting with the drunk customers, and they’ll be throwing money at you," she explained.

"You know I don’t do things like that. And I'm not comfortable selling condoms," I replied.

"I know that. I’m just saying you’d earn more if you knew how to sweet-talk men," she said.

"Alma!" I scolded her.

"Oh, here we go again with Jane the virgin! I know what you're thinking, and it's not like that. This is one decent. What I mean is, you need to know how to charm drunk customers," Alma clarified.

I knew exactly how things worked in the gig she was talking about, so I was sure I’d earn more if I played my card correctly.

"Alright, we'll see. I’ll try to talk to my boss and see if I can convince them to adjust my day off so this gig can push through. But for now, we’re still on for later," I replied.

"Okay, okay. I’ll text you the venue of the bar where we’ll meet. Oh, and I already left the outfit you’ll wear later at your house earlier," she reminded me.

"Alright, Alma. Thanks a lot," I said gratefully.

"Oh, no worries! I've got you. I promised, if I manage to snag a rich man at the bar, I'll bring you and your father with me," Agnes declared.

I chuckled slightly at her dramatic statement. "You’re so full of it," I commented.

"Full of it? No way! I’m absolutely serious. I’ll make sure I marry someone rich so I don’t have to break my back working day and night just to send my siblings to school," Alma said, her voice full of dramatic flair.

"Sure, sure. I'll keep you in my prayers," I replied, smiling as I shook my head at her antics.

We both laughed, her humor lightening the moment. After a few more exchanges, we said our goodbyes, and I ended the call, feeling a mix of gratitude and amusement at having her as a friend.

I glanced at my schedule once more and sighed deeply. I knew I didn’t have much of a choice but to make things work around the timetable I was given. There was no way I could walk back into his office after yesterday’s humiliation.

The memory of his commanding presence made my knees feel weak. The way he looked at me, spoke to me—it left me powerless, unable to speak up for myself. I hated how vulnerable I felt in his presence, like a moth drawn to a flame. Being close to him wasn’t just a risk; it felt like a disaster waiting to happen.

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