Chapter 1 The Offer

Aria's POV

When the bell above the door jingled for what felt like the one hundredth time that day, I wiped my hands on my apron and forced a smile as the next customer walked in.

My feet ached and my back hurt. Even my head also throbbed, but there was no time to complain as my rent was due in five days, Josh needed new medication, and the electric company had already sent a warning notice. I couldn't afford to slow down.

"Coffee?" I asked the man as he sat at the corner booth, not even looking up from his phone.

He nodded but was still focused on whatever he was reading. I poured the coffee and left the pot on the warmer, rubbing my temple as I glanced around the diner. It was past 10 p.m., and only a few late-night regulars lingered, whispering over pancakes and fries.

I leaned against the counter for a second so that I could breathe.

"Aria!" Clara's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Order up! Table four!"

I bit back a sigh and grabbed the plates as I delivered them with a smile I didn't quite feel. The couple barely noticed me as they continued arguing over something on a phone screen.

I turned away and told myself it's just two more hours to go. Two more hours, and then I could go home. Well, that's if you could call a tiny one-bedroom apartment with flickering lights and peeling wallpaper "a home."

I slid back behind the counter, grabbed the rag, and started wiping down the same spot I'd already cleaned three times.

"You work hard". That came from a smooth, deep, and unfamiliar voice. I looked up and found the man from the corner booth watching me. His coffee sat untouched.

"Thanks," I said cautiously.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You always work this late?" he asked.

"It's a double shift, just to cover more bills."

"But you're young and pretty. You could be doing something better than wiping tables." He tilted his head.

"You got a job offer for me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe I do."

I laughed humourlessly. "Unless it comes with health insurance, I'm not interested."

That caught his attention. "You've got some medical bills, right?"

I stiffened, wondering how he knew about that before answering. "None of your business."

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Let's just say I represent a company that scouts talent. Modeling, specifically. We're always looking for new faces. And you have a good look."

My stomach clenched. "I'm not interested in being someone's fantasy on a billboard."

"It's not like that." He slid a business card across the table. "It's classy with private clients. You would be paid well, and it would be upfront enough to cover... everything."

I stared at the card. It's white with gold lettering. There was a name I didn't recognize on it, no website, just a phone number and an address in the city.

"This sounds sketchy."

He laughed lightly. "That's fair. But so is your situation, tell me if I'm wrong."

I couldn't answer because he wasn't wrong.

The state insurance no longer covered Josh's medicine. I had already sold my mom's necklace, pawned my laptop, and skipped meals to pay for his last round of treatment. I was twenty-three, broke, and raising a sick little brother on my own. What other options did I have?

"I don't have time to play games," I said finally.

"It's not a game," he replied as he stood. "Call the number. They'll set up a quick meeting. You say yes, and you'll have five grand in your hand by tomorrow night."

I stared up at him. "Five grand?"

He nodded as he gave me a quick smile and walked out without another word.

The diner felt colder after he left. Or maybe that was just me, standing there with a business card in my hand and desperation in my chest.

"Don't do it", my gut whispered, but my gut wasn't the one getting collection calls at midnight or watching Josh struggle to breathe on bad days.

When my shift ended, I walked home in silence while the streetlights flickered above me. My apartment was dark when I got in, so I tiptoed past the couch where Josh lay curled under a blanket, his chest rising and falling too quickly for my liking.

I kissed his forehead and went into the kitchen, where I stared at the card for a long time before dialing the number.

"Hello," a woman answered, her voice crisp and polite.

"I... I was given your card for a modeling job," I stated.

"Your name, please."

"Aria Lane," I answered.

There was a short pause. "Ah, yes, Mr. Felix said you might call. Can you come in tonight?" she inquired.

I blinked. "It's past midnight already."

"We work late hours, and the opportunity is real, Aria. But it's also time-sensitive."

I hesitated, but then I looked at the cabinet. It was nearly empty. I looked at the bills on the table; they were overdue. Finally, I looked at Josh, and then I decided, "I'll be there."

The building was downtown. It was a fancy and Sleek building with glass and steel, the kind of place rich people smiled for photos at its frontage. I felt out of place in my old jeans and hoodie. But the receptionist waved me through.

An assistant led me to a room with a leather chair and a polished table where a man in a gray suit sat, probably waiting for my arrival, with his fingers steepled under his chin.

"Aria? Sit," the man said as he motioned me over to the seat opposite him, and there, I sat.

"I'm Paul and I handle onboarding," he began with an introduction. We're not going to waste time. You were scouted for a specific client, and the project is highly confidential.

It's high-end but discretion is the key word. Nonetheless, you'll be well compensated."

I swallowed hard before asking, "How much?"

He slid a paper across the table. "Five thousand upfront with another ten at completion, and if it's extended, there would be more," he highlighted

I stared at the numbers, and it made my mind spin.

"What exactly am I expected to do in the job?"

"You'll be playing a role. The client has very particular tastes. You'll be trained, dressed, and instructed. You can think of it as a method acting approach. There would be no photos, no cameras, and nothing public."

The job sounded ridiculous, but the check was real. I could feel it, heavy in my hands, when he placed it there.

"There's a contract you'll need to sign. It's a Standard NDA. You agree to follow instructions and not speak about the assignment afterward."

I looked at the pages; they were long and written in small print. My head hurt, and my hands shook all at once.

"Can I take this home to read?" I inquired

"No. It's a one-time offer. If you walk out now, then it's gone."

I stared at him, the paper, and the check at the same time.

Josh needed that money. I needed the money, too. Then, as the reality of what that money would do for Josh and me dawned on me, I picked up the pen.

And I signed.

"Good," Paul said, as he stood. "You'll be picked up in one hour. Pack a small bag of only neutral clothes. No electronics and no phone."

I blinked. "Wait! what"

"You'll be transported to a private residence. The client prefers to work in controlled environments."

My heart raced. "You didn't say anything about that."

"It's all in the contract, Ms. Lane," he answered.

Then I swallowed hard. I signed without reading it. I wonder what more was stated in the contract.

"Do I have a choice?"

He looked at me. "You already made it."

Back home, I packed quickly. A sweater, my Jeans, and a toothbrush all in one bag. Then I kissed Josh goodbye, told the neighbor to check in on him, and tried not to cry.

At exactly 2:00 a.m., a black car pulled up.

The driver didn't speak when I opened the door, and I just sat in the back, clutching my bag with my heart pounding.

The city lights disappeared quickly as we drove through a tunnel. Then up a long and twisted road.

I leaned forward a little, "Are we going out of town?" I asked, but still, there was no answer.

Trees blurred past the window, but then lights appeared through the darkness. At last, a huge mansion that was lit up like a palace emerged into our view, and the car stopped after it had entered through an automatically opened gate.

A man in a tuxedo opened the door.

"Welcome, Ms. Lane. This way, please," the man said.

My legs shook as I followed him up the stone steps.

Inside, everything smelled like roses and money, with marble floors and velvet curtains.

He led me down a long hall, then stopped at a door.

"Wait here. Someone will come for you shortly," he announced

The door closed behind me with a click.

I was alone in a stranger's house with no idea what I'd signed up for. A few minutes passed before I heard footsteps and the door opened.