Chapter 003

It had been two weeks since the absolute madness at Club Verona.

Not a single word of it had made the news. No police sirens, no headlines, no hushed whispers on the morning talk shows. It was as if the man had never existed, as if a life hadn't been snuffed out under the neon lights, and the entire city had simply swallowed the secret whole and moved on.

But I couldn't move on.

That single scene played in my head over and over and over again, looping in my nightmares. How? How could a man walk into a packed club, put a gun to someone’s head, and execute them in cold blood while the world pretended nothing happened? The sheer, untouchable power of Adrian Holt terrified me down to my marrow.

Yet, terror was a luxury I couldn't afford to dwell on. Reality had a vicious way of dragging me back.

The kitchen table was littered with final notices. My phone buzzed against the formica top for the third time that morning—another automated call from the bank, demanding overdue payments on my loan with a cold, synthesized voice.

Across the small living room, my mother let out a dry, rattling cough from her bedroom that made my chest constrict. Her prescription had run out yesterday. The refill cost more than I made in a week at the café, and the pharmacy had already made it clear: no cash, no meds.

The front door clicked open, and Joan walked in, carrying a small plastic bag of groceries. She took one look at my face, then at the stack of bills and final notices, and sighed softly.

“Bank again?” Joan asked, tossing her keys onto the counter.

“Bank, landlord, pharmacy,” I muttered, rubbing my temples where a permanent migraine had set up camp. “Mom’s meds are completely gone, Jo. I’m out of options. If I don't come up with a serious chunk of money by tomorrow, I don't know what’s going to happen.”

Joan pulled out a chair and sat across from me, her expression a mix of sympathy and frustration. “Mara, you’ve been running yourself into the ground with these double shifts. You look like a ghost. Is there any way you can ask your supervisor for an advance?”

I let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “From Tony? He’d laugh in my face and dock my tips just for asking.”

I stared down at my hands, the memory of Club Verona flashing behind my eyelids—the blood on the roulette table, the untouchable wealth, and the man who owned it all. “I need a real out. Something big.”

Joan raised an eyebrow, leaning in. “What kind of big? You’re not still fixated on that billionaire’s life thing, are you? Mara, those people is dangerous. Half the girls at the club won’t even say his name out loud anymore.”

“I know they are dangerous,” I said, my voice dropping to a fierce, steady whisper. “I mean, I watched a man kill another yet nothing has been said about it, even though I’m glad Dennis is dead that doesn’t mean it isn’t murder. But people like that—people who can make a murder vanish before sunrise—they also have the kind of money that solves every single problem in this room.”

I reached over, flipped open my laptop, and spun it around to face her.

“What is this?” Joan asked, squinting at the screen.

“Allegra Events,” I said, pointing to the staffing portal. “They manage private high-profile accounts and events. They’re hiring temporary assistants for upper-tier clients this weekend. I looked them up after the club incident, and guess who their primary, elite tech partner is?”

Joan’s eyes widened slightly as she read the name on the screen. “Adrian Holt?”

“He’s untouchable,” I said, determination hardening every bone in my body. “And the only way to get close enough to figure out how to beat this system, to get the kind of money my mom needs to stay alive—is to infiltrate their world. I’m applying.”

To: [e-mail]

From: [e-mail]

Subject: Application for Event Coordinator / VIP Assistant — Mara Collins

Dear Hiring Team at Allegra Events,

I am writing to express my eager interest in joining Allegra Events as a Temporary Event Assistant for your upcoming high-profile accounts. Having managed high-volume guest interactions, luxury table service, and floor management across fast-paced environments for over three years, I thrive in discreet, high-pressure settings where precision and absolute professionalism are non-negotiable.

I am immediately available for your upcoming weekend schedule and would welcome the opportunity to discuss how my hands-on service experience can support Allegra Events' prestigious team.

Attached, please find my CV for your review. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

Mara Collins

Professional Hospitality & Guest Relations

Joan stared at me for a long, silent moment, watching as I filled out the application form, looking for any sign that I was joking. When she found none, she shook her head slowly. “You’re out of your mind. You’re going to walk right into the lion’s den.”

“No,” I replied, a cold, calculated smile finally touching my lips. “I’m going to get a job.”

I clicked Submit Application and leaned back, the clock ticking down on my mother's health and my last shred of sanity.

I shut the laptop, tossed the noodle cup into the bin, and looked around the small apartment.

I had a plan.

Get in.

Learn.

Become one of them.

Beat them at their own game.

Then find myself a rich man.

I wasn’t like the models or TV stars, but I knew I was beautiful. With a little makeup, a new dress, and a new identity, I could pass for one of them. All I had to do right now was to find someone kind enough to be friends with me, and she will be my ticket to more events, so that I can finally be out of this hell I call life.