It was already six in the evening, and the weight of exhaustion pressed down on me. I didn't want to move.
I didn't want to face the hell I was about to return to.
But two months. Just two more months, and I could finally escape this nightmare I called a job.
I'd studied business and finance in college. I'd dreamt of a future in Vance—a massive company making major deals across the world.
But the application fee? Ridiculously expensive.
Even my life savings couldn't cover it. So, I'd settled for this.
The club. It wasn't hard to get hired—looks were all that mattered here.
Riley, she'd been there much longer than I had. She loved the job, I could see it.
I knew she wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.
But for me, this job was a means to an end.
I needed to save up for the application and enough to support my family. In five months, I could have that money—if I survived this long.
But ever since that night, that damn night at the club,
I couldn't shake the feeling that I was never truly safe.
That something had shifted. I couldn't forget the feeling that someone—something—was always watching me.
I shoved the thought away, shaking my head to clear the heavy, dark thoughts swirling in my mind.
I was overthinking. I had to focus.
I glanced at the clock. Seven o'clock already.
I was running late, and I couldn't afford to give Mr. Lance any more reasons to fire me.
I didn't bother with my hair. I let it hang loose, unrestrained, too tired to care.
I kissed Mom goodbye and hugged Maliya before I left.
The drive to the club took an hour, so I hailed a cab, trying to push aside the unease crawling under my skin. I reached the club just in time, hurried inside, and quickly changed into my uniform.
Since that meeting with Mr. Lance, I'd been avoiding him. I didn't trust him. Work wasn't as stressful tonight—hell, we closed early for once.
I wasn't sure why, but I couldn't care less.
Maybe it was a sign. Maybe I had a chance to breathe for once.
I changed back into my own clothes, tossed the uniform in my bag, and tied my hair into a messy bun, leaving a few strands to fall loose around my face. The night felt off.
By the time I left, it was already a few minutes past midnight. Normally, I wouldn't get off until two.
I hailed a cab, like I always did, and sank into the seat, thankful for the quiet.
But something was wrong.
The ride was taking too long, much longer than it should have. My instincts, sharp as ever, screamed that something was off.
I hadn't even noticed the unfamiliar streets, the way the city around me felt different, like I'd somehow ended up in the wrong place.
I should have been paying attention. I should have—
"I need to get out," I said to the driver, my voice sharp with panic.
His response? He slammed his foot down on the gas, and the cab sped up, tearing through the night.
My heart hammered in my chest.
I checked the doors—locked.
All of them.
What the hell? Was I being kidnapped?
The panic rose like acid in my throat. I grabbed at the handles, desperate, but there was nothing I could do.
Suddenly, I felt something cold, something soft pressed against my face.
A handkerchief. The scent of something sweet, almost sickly.
I struggled, thrashing in my seat, but my vision blurred, my body growing heavy. The world tilted, and all I could do was close my eyes, surrendering to the dark void swallowing me whole.
What the hell had I gotten myself into?