Jeanette never imagined her life would come to this.
She clenched her jaw, forcing the words out. “Adam, I... I swear I’ll do my best.”
“That’s the spirit,” her brother replied with a sly smile.
A few days later, once the bruises had completely faded from her face, someone came to give her orientation.
There was a rule at Neon Hive: every new girl had to complete a week-long training before she could start working.
At first, Jeanette feared the training would be brutally tough, but her nerves quickly eased when the actual lessons began.
The instructor spoke, enunciating every word clearly, teaching them lines to use with clients:
“Darling, right this way.”
“There you are! I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’m broke again, won’t you spoil me a little?”
“If you buy me a present, your wife won’t get jealous, will she?”
As Jeanette listened, a flood of old memories came rushing back.
For other girls, this might be difficult, but for Jeanette—who’d once attended finishing school with the city’s elite—this was child’s play.
Winning men over was her specialty.
The Iversons, then Theo—one after another, she’d had them wrapped around her finger. She supposed she had a certain talent for it.
Now, working as a hostess in a club like this, she’d suffered plenty and the humiliation was real. But knowing the place was crawling with wealthy men, her motivation flared anew.
Meanwhile, Citrine had no idea that this arrangement wouldn’t snuff out Jeanette’s hope; if anything, it only fueled her ambition to climb higher and attach herself to someone with real power.
Then, almost as an afterthought, she warned, “But you’d better not let my wife find out. If she does, even I can’t protect you.”
Fiona beamed. “Don’t worry, Ms. Taylor. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”
Jeanette had lingered outside the private room, watching all of this unfold before finally tearing her eyes away.
She scoffed under her breath, “Pathetic. That’s the best she can do? Starving for scraps.”
To be someone’s mistress—how could anyone settle for so little? Jeanette would never stoop that low.
But overhearing their exchange, an idea began to take shape. If she could find herself a real protector, she could leave this place behind too.
And the more she thought about it, the more determined she became.
But as it turned out, finding a wealthy benefactor who actually met her standards was much harder than she’d imagined.
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