"Pull it together, Ella. Stop falling for him," she whispered, pressing her hands against her flushed cheeks.
Falling for her boss—the man with a fiancée?
Classic.
She gave herself a light slap on the cheek, wincing as the sting sharpened her senses.
"Behave, Novella. Behave"
__
Later that night, in her room, Novella sat on a chair beside her bed, her fingers gliding over the piano keys.
She sang softly, her voice blending with the melody.
"Put you first, just like you wanted... Gave you me, you took for granted... Now here I am at twenty-eight..."
She paused and then continued.
"All my friends, I hardly know 'em. I don't sing—"
Before she could finish, her phone shrilled.
She groaned, slamming her hands down on the keys.
"Seriously?" she hissed, snatching the phone from the bed.
But paused when she saw the caller ID.
Dad.
She quickly cleared her throat and answered the call.
"Don't tell me it's a lecture about staying indoors again?" she said, rolling her eyes.
Her dad laughed.
"Check your phone. Just sent you something—tripled your allowance. So go out tonight, have fun"
Her jaw dropped.
"No freaking way!" she gasped, covering her mouth.
"But wait, are you serious?" she asked, trying to be sure.
"Dead serious" he replied.
"Thanks, Dad! You're the best!" she screamed, ending the call quickly.
___
An hour later, a taxi rolled to a stop in front of a brightly lit building. Bass-heavy music rumbled in the background. Purple neon lights buzzed faintly above the entrance, spelling out Nightclub.
"We're here, miss" the driver announced.
Novella looked at the building through the window and smiled.
Beautiful, she thought.
Just as she reached for the door handle, she halted.
She slowly turned back with a small, embarrassed smile.
Her eyes locked on the driver.
"Sorry. I almost forgot to pay you"
The driver looked confused.
"But you already did, right after you got in"
Her brows lifted in surprise.
"Did I? Wow" she blinked.
The driver smiled lightly.
"Anyway, thanks for the ride, mister," she muttered.
"Welcome, miss"
She opened the door and stepped out, closing it gently behind her.
The taxi drove off.
She stood there for a moment, staring up at the entrance.
First time in the most popular club in Canada.
She exhaled slowly and adjusted her oversized cardigan.
Inside, the bass hit her like a punch. People danced, drank, and some were making out openly.
She blinked, trying to take it all in.
"What the actual hell..." she muttered, gripping the side of her gown.
She moved cautiously, her long gown brushing against skin-tight skirts and glossy leather jackets. A few people turned, smirking at her outfit.
Floral dress, oversized cardigan and black sneakers.
She held her chin high, pretending not to hear the whispers.
Is she lost?
Looks like she got lost on her way to church.
Who wears that to a club?
Geez, she's ugly
She spotted a bar where a group of girls laughed around a handsome bartender.
Without thinking twice, she made her way toward it and getting there, she cleared her throat.
"Hi" she said loudly over the loud music.
He turned away from the girls, flashing her a smile.
She settled down on a empty stool.
Some girls sitting on the other stools looked at her strangely because of her outfit.
"Hey, gorgeous. What can I get you?" he said in a British accent.
She scratched the back of her head.
Juice is okay… right?
"Um... a cold juice" she said, taking in her lower lip.
He raised an eyebrow. "Just juice?"
"Yes" she nodded.
He studied her for a moment before leaning in. Their eyes met.
"You don't sound Canadian. Your accent's kind of Russian. Are you Russian?" he muttered
Novella blinked.
Ok,why's he asking?
She pressed her lips into a polite smile, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
She took a deep breath.
"I'm Russian" she said.
He smirked.
"Thought so. I'm Russian too"
"Cool" she replied, forcing another smile.
"Ever had a Russian drink?" he asked, pulling out a sleek bottle from behind the bar.
She squinted at the label. "Vodka?"
He nodded.
"You should try it" he said.
Before she could agree or protest, he poured a shot and slid the glass to her.
She stared at the glass as if it might bite, then lifted her head to meet his eyes.
He winked at her, and she bit her lip nervously before slowly picking it up.
As he turned away to serve others, she brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip.
The liquid went down fast, burning her throat. She flinched and made a small face.
Why does this feel like fire?
Is this bartender trying to get her killed?
She took another sip, then another.
A few minutes later, the glass was empty.
"Bartender! One more," she called, lifting it above her head.
He looked at her with amusement.
"Careful, pretty girl. That stuff's no joke"
She giggled as he refilled her shot.
"Thanks" she mumbled.
Just as she was about drinking, she suddenly felt the urgent need to pee.
She frowned, one hand resting on her midsection.
She dropped the glass and stood, wobbling slightly as she glanced around.
As she moved away, the bartender finally noticed. His gaze followed her movement casually, then suddenly froze.
A faint red stain showed on the back of her gown.
"Hey!" a man barked, snapping the bartender's attention forward.
"Shit, sorry," he muttered, quickly handing over the drink.
*
Meanwhile, underground...
The club's hidden chamber was dimly lit, the air thick with smoke.
A long table stretched down the center, lined with men in tailored suits, their faces unreadable as they lounged in leather chairs.
Thick velvet curtains covered the walls.
Armed guards stood like statues.
Near the front, a line of girls stood in matching gowns, pale makeup masking their expressions. They looked like dolls dressed for display.
"Number twenty-eight" said a deep voice.
It came from a tall man standing in the center.
Everyone knew him as Black.
Two guards stepped forward and dragged one trembling girl to the middle. Her legs shook, her breathing coming fast.
"She's listed at fifty thousand" Black announced.
Suddenly, her legs gave out and she dropped to the ground with a loud thud. In the next second, she started coughing violently, her eyes barely opening.
The room fell still. Every pair of eyes locked on her.
Black's face hardened.
"Check her" he ordered the guards.
They crouched beside her and one felt her neck.
"She's burning up" he said, lifting his gaze to him.
A ripple of disapproval rolled through the room. An old man exhaled smoke and scowled.
"We don't pay for damaged goods. Get rid of this thing and bring in another" he muttered, his voice low and cold.
Black didn't argue. He sighed, reached into his jacket and pulled out a pistol.
He aimed it at her.
The girl's glassy eyes widened, her lips trembling.
"Please don't..."
The gunshot silenced her. Her body jerked once, then stilled.