On most days, I looked in the mirror and convinced myself that I was a pre-fairy godmother Cinderella. Someday I will leave this world behind and live in my own fairytale. But for now, I had to be worried about dumb things like making rent for this month. I was a couple hundred short, which meant I would have to pick up several extra shifts and still beg Carson not to kick me out, an embarrassing task I was not looking forward to. Working in retail sucked more than most places, but if I had to put food on the table, I would have to end up doing more. When Sera offered me a night's job serving champagne to rich bastards at the club her cousin worked at, I didn't waste a second in saying yes.

I knew the rich tipped well, and I knew that my smile should ideally win awards elsewhere. I had the face of a model, my mother says, which I know is a little biased, but it did often help me get my way with people. A smile, a charming dimple, and a lot of people were practically slime.

Here I stood outside Negative a glowing hole in the dark, preparing myself for a night of brain-numbing bass and ugly rich people being entitled as fuck. But hey, whatever paid the bills, right? I looked down at my simple uniform. Black polo, black jeans, black heels. I was glad Negative was one of the places that did not make waitresses wear skirts, for their safety.

"Ah, Theodora, you're here," Pablo met me at the steps leading me in, "Hey, boss man! Check out Stacey's replacement." He called to a man in a suit, whose back was to us. During the daytime, it just felt wrong to be standing in a club. The floors were devoid of vomit and alcohol, the lights were all wrong and most conspicuously, there was no music that scared me within an inch of my life.

I smiled politely as he came to inspect me, taking a long, cold look before just exhaling a 'hmph'. What a fun boss to be around. Then he walked away, leaving me confused. This was truly the first time in my life no one had melted at my smile. I didn't like this feeling one bit, even if I was aware of how entitled I was being.

"Okay, good thing that he likes you. Now, you'll be serving in the VIP area, so that's around here," Pablo led me to the floor above, where there was a commotion of sorts. "There's a huge party tonight, it's Jason Emerson's birthday."

Was I supposed to know who that was?

Pablo stared at me, "Jason Emerson? The marketing whiz from Steele?"

Oh yes, of course. The guy who singlehandedly turned the tarnished public image of Kaleidoscope into a business everyone aspired to work for. Also, the guy who put a small-time, hole in the wall bakery called By the Dozen on the map, eventually pushing it to a national scale simply by advertising well. I read about him all the time, and I was amazed by his talents. Had I been interacting with him, I'd be excited, nervous even. But I was simply serving drinks at his party. Why would he care?

Pablo showed me the ropes, glad I had some experience waitressing. I could work well in restaurants and cafes, but clubs were a little out of my domain. If it wasn't for the roof over my head slowly disintegrating, I would have been pickier. Oh well. As the night rolled around, guests started pouring in slowly. The bright lights were all switched off, neon bouncing off the walls and hurting my eyes. The DJ had started warming his stuff up, and people were slowly swaying to the beat, trying to wind off from their hectic weeks.

I wished I had the luxury to afford a weekend off work.

"Hey, Dora! Take this to twenty-four!" Derek handed me a tray of miscellaneous drinks.

"Thea," I corrected him with narrowed eyes, even though I knew he wouldn't stop with this ugly nickname till the night ended.

"Same difference, baby doll." He blew me a kiss, and I walked away, afraid the disgust would be written all over my face. Twenty-four was another group of wealthy men, in their late thirties. Most of them had bands on their fingers, but it didn't stop them from occasionally asking me to smile more or stare at me as I walked past.

But I had their types down to a T. They'd look, they'd demand more, but they won't compensate. Lousy tippers, every single one of them. At least four of them worked in accounts, which is incredibly dull and drab anyways, and two looked like they had their trust funds to fall back on, as always. One was desperate enough for a promotion and had offered to buy his boss' drink, but the boss wasn't eating up any of that.

Yeah, twenty-four wasn't giving me any tips to write home about. I needed the birthday party to arrive sooner so I could pocket some more tips. While my head made me sound like I was hungry for money, but the truth was that there wasn't much going on in my life to be worried about. Even though it wasn't the easiest, working as a sales associate at GAP didn't give much in the way of social life, nor did it do much for me financially. I spent my day convincing women they were buying the wrong size of clothes and eventually scanning their returned items before handing them clothes that actually fit. In between, I found time to fold clothes, handle inventory and watch new couples fight at the cash register.

"Birthday kid's here, make sure to get them to the bar as much as possible. We can split the tips if you want."

"70-30," I shook my hand with Derek, heading to the large group to take their first orders. It was a group of nine men, all in impeccable suits hugging them snugly on their shoulders. Not a stitch out of place, not a shoulder slouched. Damn, did rich people take some exclusive rights towards the beauty that we commoners didn't? I let them settle in before jumping in, keeping my smile intact and dimple visible at all times. One guy with lovely blue eyes even bought into the whole tirade, offering to buy me a drink.

I laughed, "Maybe some other time."

Hooked. If he didn't leave me enough to cover up this month's rent, I'd puncture his eyeballs for spending all night eye-fucking me. I went around the crowd taking orders, all fancy drinks and some simple ones, before reaching the last one.

"Oi, Aiden. That pretty bird's waiting for your order." The guy with an Australian accent called, making the last guest at the table look up from his phone, a deep breath freezing in my lungs. Jesus, he was gorgeous. For a second, I even forgot the rage of being called a bird.

"I'll have a rum and coke, Lemon if you have it. Nothing else if you don't." Of course, rich people and their requirements. While I wasn't sure if we had Lemon flavoured rum in the bar, I was sure Derek could make something work. I walked past the table with a smile still on my face, even though the man was making me feel all kinds of jittery. Something about him was unnerving me, like the feeling you get when a teacher folds your test paper before putting it on your desk.

I couldn't wait to get out of here already and their party just seemed to be getting started. While Derek poured the drinks, I checked up with the accounts guys, the collective bunch of six leaving me a tip of thirty dollars. Not as low as I expected, but it wasn't pulling my pockets significantly either. One of the men had also scribbled his number on a tissue, which I promptly scrunched and added to the trash I was collecting off the table. As if.

A group of investment bankers were taking their seats in Hailey's section, and she sure did a good work of entertaining them with a flirty smile and the hair flip trick she was trying to teach me before service started. Something about men finding necks attractive or whatever. I had kept my hair straight and tied it into a tight ponytail, so there were no chances of any hair flipping from me tonight.

"If a group of pedos come in tonight, you can take that table. They always tip the cuties well." She had laughed. No paedophiles in sight so far, so maybe the night was actually turning out good.

"Order up, Dora," Derek would be dead meat by the end of the night.

Back at the birthday table, things seemed to be going easy and well for me. They weren't drinking too much; they weren't too loud and yet they seemed to be having a good time. What a shocker. Emerson basked in all the attention his friends seemed to shower on him, all smiles and tipping me a twenty after each drink. God, I love rich people.

I was clearing up their glasses from their third round of drinks when my hand caught on something, a tug stopping me from moving my wrist forward. Shit. My bracelet, the most precious possession I had on this planet, was caught up in Aiden's cufflinks, entangled in a way I didn't understand.

I pursed my lips, setting my tray down on the table before getting to work on the bracelet. Frustration bubbled in me as I noticed the thread under the beads was caught up in a loop around the button of his shirt. With as much care as I could, I was turning the thread out, when I heard an annoyed huff coming off Aiden, followed by him practically tearing his hand out of my grip, ripping the cord of the bracelet off.

My world stopped. The bass was no longer killing my brain, the swelling of my feet was no longer throbbing. I watched as bits and pieces of the jewellery broke and spread apart on the ground, not even large enough to be put back together. Had I been smart enough to keep it locked away somewhere, I wouldn't have weakened the poor piece enough to break by just a tug. But I wore it every single day. Every single day since I had turned thirteen, the bracelet had seen the world with me.

And Aiden, that dumb rich bitch had taken it away from me.

I had half a mind to create a murder scene. I even imagined in my head how I'd break a wine glass over his head and then stab him with the sharp end repeatedly till there was no more blood left to come out. I'd even willingly hand myself to the police. Rationality prevailed, as I chose to glare at him, hoping to communicate with my eyes how strong my desire to commit murder was, calling him a 'fucking cunt' under my breath.

Red hot anger raged through me, and unfortunately, it channelized itself externally through tears that were building up and threatening to spill anytime soon. Even with half the glasses still on the table, I walked away to the back of the bar.

"I need a break," I choked out to Derek, rushing outside from the back to breathe in and regulate myself. The shattered bracelet had seen terrible wear and tear, and it was on the verge of breaking on its own anyway, but that didn't mean I was happy with the way that jackass had sped up the process. I had fully intended to take it off one day and preserve it in its own beautiful box, but that moment had been taken away from me. I hated that little fucker with all the rage that could fit in my shaking body.

"Princess, I know you're upset but the daddy's kids are asking for you," Derek peeped out for a quick second, rushing in without seeing if I would follow. Three-step process: Fix your eyes, fix your nose, fix your cheeks. I'd learnt this trick when I was sixteen, going through what was a bit of a rebellious phase. Consequently, there were a lot of nights of screaming and crying with my mom, and mornings spent in front of my father pretending we're all okay.

I checked myself in the reflections on the wall before walking back out, heading straight to the table with spoiled rich kids. "Hey, is there something I can get for you?"

"A tall drink of you would be fine," One kid with the smug face said, making his friends snicker. I was at the end of the rope tonight, and that was probably the only reason I said, "Not sure if that fits in your daddy's budget, babe. How about we stick to something our credit cards can manage? A pint of beer, perhaps?"

The collective hoots rising from the table, made me want to laugh, but laughing almost always meant encouragement and I never wanted to give these people the wrong idea. "I'll take an Adams then."

The most expensive one we had, smart choice. I took orders from the others, no smart remarks this time and handed the slip to Derek who prepared them for me.

"That birthday table say something wrong?" He asked, muddling a glass of mint and grapes.

"Nah, that fucking pig broke my bracelet." I sniffed, still feeling anger in me. I don't think I'd be able to process it fully till I went home and had a good cry.

"Well, that fucking pig would like to apologize, if that's okay with you." I froze. The strangely familiar voice came from behind me and my eyebrows rose, hoping Derek would save me. How could I have gone around calling my ticket out of rent a fucking pig? Stupid Thea.

Pursing my lips and keeping a solemn expression on my face, I turned around to find Mr Aiden a lot fucking closer to me than I would have imagined. Jesus, how do humans even smell expensive? I stepped back, my back hitting the bar, creating some space between us.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were listening," I bit my lip, cursing my luck tonight.

"Doesn't make me any less of a pig," He tilted his head, a hand reaching out to pull his wallet out of his blazer. Oh my god, this dumb turd. He did not. But he did. I watched painfully as he took out a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet, extending it out to me, "That should cover it."

Jaw clenched, I could almost feel the pressure from the physical restraint I was exercising instead of mauling him and possibly stabbing him to death. He raised a brow, possibly confused why I wasn't jumping at the money, unaware that he was in for a rude awakening.

"You didn't let me finish," I smiled brightly, folding his hand over the fifty-dollar bill he was flashing at me, "If I knew you were listening, I would have called you a total moron too." The smile dropped, "Keep your pocket change. It's not fixing my problem."

Before he could get in a word edgewise, I slipped out from the enclosed space, grabbing a tray and heading over to clean a table. Daddy's kids were looking for attention again, so I stopped by their table for a second before coming back to the bar. Unfortunately for me, Jason caught my eye and signalled me over to his table.

Do it for the house. Just do it for the house.

Keeping my eyes on anyone except Aiden, I took what seemed to be the table's final orders for the night. As Derek mixed the drinks, I let my mind wander to the music, actually finding the beat quite catchy. If I wasn't working, I might have had a good time here on a good day. Drinks served at Jason's table, twenty extra dollars pocketed and the rich bastard kids leaving me two hundred dollars in tips, I was ready to call it a night. I stared daggers at Aiden whenever I got the chance, even if he wasn't looking at me.

Dickhead.

As if telepathy was a thing, his eyes caught mine, and I instantly looked away, muttering curses at my luck. Jesus, could today get any worse?

"Oi birdie! Bill please!" The Australian pig with the golden hair called, and I smiled at him, no matter how much my soul was aching to flip him off.

I brought the bill to the table, "Cash or card?"

Jason pulled out a black Amex card from his wallet, signing off the bill with some vague amount. When he returned it back to me, my eyes almost popped out.

A thousand-dollar tip.

Fuck.

Surely it must be illegal to tip that much? Even embarrassed as I was, I asked him if he was surely tipping me one grand for service. He laughed, face red with the alcohol already, "Of course. Consider it an apology for Aiden being a dickhead."

My eyes involuntarily went to him when his name was called, only to find his eyes on me already. Looking away just as instantly, I swiped the card for the group, trying to be comfortable with the fact that I was barely making a dent in his pocket for all the worrying I was doing.

As the group filtered out, I stayed back, starting to clean the minimal mess they had left behind. I liked polite people. They made the job ten times easier to deal with. The Australian touched my back as he walked past and I glared, no longer entertaining his bullshit for my tips. He walked away hastily.

That left two of us. For whatever reason unknown to man, Aiden had not stood up from his chair, eyes drilling my head as I did my job. Finally getting annoyed, I asked, "Can I help you with something?"

"Take my card," He said after a short pause, sliding the sophisticated black and white item towards me, "And drop by my office sometime this week. I'd like to discuss other ways I can compensate for that bracelet of yours."

"Propositioning weaker women for sex doesn't suit a man of your stature," I rolled my eyes, "Not when your face can easily get the job done."

Realizing what I had just said, I backtracked, "That is if you don't open your mouth first."

"If I wanted to have sex with you, I would have, by now. But I'm not the least bit interested. Clearly, that thing was important enough to make you cry, so I would like to arrange some sort of compensation. That's all."

At least the moron had some morals.

I picked the card, feeling the heaviness of the paper that spoke volumes about how god damn rich he was. Satisfied by my lack of response, Aiden stood up from his chair, buttoning his suit and leaving me standing at the table like a fool.

It was only once he'd gone that I flipped the card over, seeing the details on it.

Aiden Steele

CEO – Steele Enterprises

What the fuck have I just done?

Hi! I won't take up too much of your time, but I just want to thank you for making it to the end of the chapter! If you've decided to continue with Thea and Aiden on this journey, I'm so excited to share their world with you :) It's going to be a fun ride, I can assure you that.

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Happy Reading,

Pari C