Chapter 3: (The $40,000 Lottery) Pearl stood in the center of the cramped apartment, her breath hitching as she stared at the glowing screen of her phone. "Oh my God... this is it." Her heart pounded as she reread the number. Forty thousand dollars. A month. It looked unreal. "This is the one." "What's it?" Ella asked, stepping into the room. She was the picture of corporate discipline, her blazer pressed and her expression tired. "Did a company finally call you back?" Pearl let out a jagged laugh.
"A call back? Ella, I'm talking about a life-altering, breathtaking amount of money." "Money? What money?" "Look." Pearl shoved the phone into Ella's hand. Ella leaned closer, scanning the listing. Then suddenly she gasped. "The AW Group CEO?" she blurted. "Ace Warren's daughter needs a nanny?" "Check the wage," Pearl said. "Look at the number." Ella's eyes dropped to the bottom of the screen. Her jaw fell open. "Forty thousand?! Is that a typo? Pearl, that's forty thousand dollars a month! That's... that's insane!" "It's not a mistake," Pearl said, already moving toward her closet. She pulled out the most professional outfit she owned. "I don't care about my degrees," she continued. "I don't care about the dozens of 'overqualified' rejections I've had this month." She grabbed her bag. "I'm going." "Right now." "Wait!" Ella grabbed her arm, her excitement quickly turning into worry. "Pearl, think about this. Jobs that sound too good to be true usually are. What if it's a scam? Or worse?" Pearl turned to face her. Her eyes were bright-not just with hope, but desperation. "Ella," she said quietly, "the 'legit' companies have been slamming doors in my face for a year." She forced a dry laugh. "They want experience I can't get and certificates that don't pay the rent." She held up the phone. "Forty thousand for a nanny job versus three thousand for a soul-crushing office desk?" Her voice steadied. "There is no choice." She pulled Ella into a quick, tight hug. "Don't worry about me. I'm going to get this." ⸻ The taxi ride felt like it lasted forever. Pearl sat stiffly in the back seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as the city blurred past the window. "The Warren Mansion," she told the driver. The man glanced at her through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. "What's going on at that place today?" he asked. "I've dropped off five girls already. Is the billionaire giving away gold bars?" "An interview," Pearl replied quietly. Her heart hammered against her ribs. When the taxi finally pulled up to the towering wrought-iron gates, her stomach dropped. The driveway was packed. Luxury cars. Expensive heels. Designer handbags. Women everywhere. It looked less like a job interview and more like a casting call for a reality show. Pearl stepped out slowly. Her modest outfit suddenly felt painfully simple compared to the glamorous dresses and flawless makeup around her. What am I even doing here? she wondered. For a moment, doubt crept into her chest. Forty thousand dollars could change everything-her rent, her debts, her future. But standing in front of the massive Warren mansion, she suddenly wondered if she was walking into an opportunity-or a disaster. Still, she joined the line. As she waited, she watched applicants leaving the mansion. None of them looked happy. "I can't believe it," one woman hissed as she stormed past Pearl. "The kid is the one doing the interview. A literal child!" "And she's a brat!" another woman snapped, wiping smudged mascara from her cheeks. "She told me my outfit looked 'trashy.' Do you know how much this dress cost?" Pearl glanced at the woman's plunging neckline and sparkling sequins. Well... maybe the kid has a point, she thought silently. Hours passed. The sun climbed higher as Mia Warren systematically dismantled the confidence of every applicant in the city. Finally, an escort in a crisp suit stepped outside and gestured to Pearl. "Next. Follow me." Pearl inhaled slowly and smoothed her skirt. Then she stepped forward. ⸻ The mansion's interior was breathtaking-white marble floors, towering ceilings, and the quiet luxury of unimaginable wealth. Pearl followed the escort down a long hallway. At the end of it sat a small girl in an oversized velvet chair. Her legs were crossed. A stylus tapped rhythmically against a tablet resting on a small table beside her. Pearl froze. It was a surreal sight. "Uncross your legs," Mia commanded without looking up. Pearl blinked and quickly corrected her posture. She forced a polite smile. "Hello, I'm-" "Who told you to smile?" Mia snapped, finally looking up. Her eyes were sharp. Observant. Far too mature for a child. Pearl immediately dropped the smile. "I'm sorry." "Name?" "Pearl Augustine." "Age?" "Twenty-three." Mia scribbled something onto the tablet. "Twenty-three. Fluent English. No stuttering." Her eyes slowly scanned Pearl's outfit. Simple. Clean. Unimpressive. "Are you here because you want to date my dad," Mia asked bluntly, "or are you here for the job?" Pearl met her gaze calmly. "I'm here for the job." "And I promise you I'll do it better than anyone else." Mia tapped the stylus against the tablet again. "What would you do," she asked suddenly, "if I refused to listen to you?" Pearl didn't hesitate. "I'd figure out why," she said. "And then I'd fix the problem instead of fighting you." For a moment, Mia stared at her-Then a small, satisfied smirk appeared on her face. She turned toward the escort by the door. "Tell everyone outside to go home." The man blinked. "I've found one." Pearl's breath caught. Just like that? "Don't get excited yet," Mia said, sliding off the chair. "My dad still has to approve you before you're verified." She walked past Pearl. Then she leaned closer and whispered softly, "Let's see how long you can actually handle this." Mia's footsteps faded down the hallway. Pearl stood alone in the massive room. The silence felt heavy. The warning echoed in her mind. What exactly had she just walked into?