LOGINCalliope was a nobody. Hard working. Has dreams. She wanted to make something of herself. She wanted to beat the norms of settling down in her hometown. Everything changed when she applied at Jones Atelier Inc. and met Atlas Jones. She discovers that there’s much more to life and self discovery than she expected. Atlas introduces her to a world full of possibilities and desire. A relationship she never expected to have. And one she intends to keep, but at what cost. Will she be able to steal her bosses heart?
View MoreThe club was quiet now, the empty hallways echoing softly under the dimmed lights. The day shift was over, and I finally had a moment to breathe. I adjusted my mask in the reflection of the small mirror in my private office, making sure every strap lay perfectly, every line precise. Even now, when no one was watching, composure mattered. I couldn’t risk a single flaw that might give away who I truly was.The day had been long but uneventful. No patrons, no distractions, just the silent pulse of the club and the faint hum of the ventilation system. I moved through the space like a shadow, checking doors, double-checking the security measures I had helped set up years ago. Every camera, every sensor, every lock was a reminder that even in this world, control was everything.I allowed myself a slow exhale, a quiet moment of reflection. Atlas was somewhere out there, undoubtedly searching, undoubtedly curious. I could feel it in my bones, even without seeing him. The pull between us—the t
The room fell into a heavy silence the moment I finished speaking. My words hung between us, thick and tangible, weaving an invisible thread of tension that neither of us dared to break. The faint thrum of music from the main club seeped through the thick velvet curtains behind us, but inside this private room, the world was reduced to the heat of the air and the unspoken understanding between us.Atlas remained still for longer than I expected, the way his hand rested on the edge of the table, the faint rise and fall of his chest betraying a flicker of emotion he refused to show openly. I studied him from behind my mask, the dim amber lighting tracing the sharp planes of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He was trying to read me, to grasp at something he couldn’t quite place, but there was nothing for him to see beyond what I chose to reveal.“You’ve… thought about this,” he finally said, his voice low, deliberate, carrying a mix of disbelief and intrigue. “A
The sunlight spilled through the blinds in soft golden stripes, stretching across the floors of the safehouse like warm ribbons. I stirred awake, feeling the weight of the night’s exhaustion in my bones. My body ached from the previous evening at the club, the adrenaline finally ebbing, leaving behind a lingering tension I couldn’t quite shake. For a moment, I allowed myself to linger in bed, listening to the house.Quiet. Dante must have already gotten up for his usual early breakfast routine. The twins, Dahlia and Delaney, were likely still tucked beneath their blankets, murmuring softly in the cocoon of sleep. A small smile tugged at my lips. These quiet mornings were fleeting, rare pockets of serenity in a life filled with shadows and vigilance. I had learned to savor them, to draw strength from the calm before the inevitable storm of responsibilities.Sliding out of bed, I moved silently down the hallway toward Dante’s room. The soft creak of the floorboards u
The afternoon sunlight slanted through the blinds, painting the safehouse in muted golds and warm shadows. I sat at the small dining table, finishing the last sips of my coffee, my mind running through the schedule for the evening. Dante had already left for his after-school program, Dahlia and Delaney off with their piano lessons, and the house was quiet once again. It was a luxury I allowed myself rarely—silence—but it was never truly mine. Atlas was still out there somewhere, and I knew the threads of the past could snap back into my life without warning.I reviewed the plans for the night at the club, the routes I would take, the masks I would wear, and the contingencies Eli had suggested. Every detail mattered. I couldn’t afford the slightest misstep—not with Atlas, not with anyone who might recognize me or suspect who I was. My fingers traced the edges of the floor plan I had drawn for myself, noting every exit, every camera blind spot, and every potential threat.






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