Chapter 2

My eyes widened in disbelief. The man was bonkers. Who in the hell would think anyone would take a job unknowing of what it was? I gave a slow shake of my head. "Why in the hell would I agree to something that sounds fishy as fuck?"

He shrugged, his smile becoming another smirk as he held his hand out, "Do we have a deal or not?"

Looking at him, I thought over my options, or rather the lack of. Then, reaching out, I took his hand, shaking it. "I guess we have a deal," I stated, unable but to wonder just what in the hell I was getting myself into.

The man stood, his handshake firm, his grip surprisingly comforting in the cold, sterile room. "Good. You won't regret it." Afterward, he handed me an envelope. "Come to this address tomorrow morning at eight sharp."

Seconds later, I gazed at the envelope in my hand, my stomach twisting into knots as the guard escorted me out of the room.

~~

Time ticked into hours as I waited, unable but think about the man's offer. The idea of not serving time was tempting, but the uncertainty of what I would be doing made me hesitant. Yet, the alternative was time behind bars, separated from Mac, with nothing but the memories of my grandpa and the chances he had given me.

My decision weighed heavily on me; I could feel the pressure of time slipping away. Soon, my fate would be decided. There would be no turning back.

The door to my cell creaked open, and the guard stepped in. His eyes scanned the small space before settling on me. "You're free to go." 

My heart raced as I stood up, my legs wobbly from the sudden rush of adrenaline. "What?" I croaked.

"Your charges have been dropped." His tone was that of boredom, as if he delivered this news every day.

I couldn't believe it. Was this a trick? A sick joke played by the system? But after he unlocked the handcuffs, he handed me my personal items, I knew it was real. The man had kept his word.

As I stepped out of the cell, the cool air of freedom hit me like a wave. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sweet taste of liberation. The guard led me down the same corridor, to the same room where the mysterious man had made his offer.

The door was open, and the man stood there, waiting for me, his arms crossed over his chest. "You made the right choice," he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Minutes later, I stepped out of the prison and into the blinding sunlight. Had I just signed away my soul to the devil? I wondered. But as I saw the familiar streets of Chicago stretching out before me, I knew I had no choice.

Half an hour later, back in my apartment, I sat on the worn couch, Mac chirping happily in his cage. With trembling fingers, I opened the envelope. Inside was a black business card with a single name: Alex Landry and an address.

The name didn't ring a bell, but something about it felt... familiar. Like a distant memory I couldn't quite grasp. But there was no time for nostalgia. I had to figure out what I'd gotten myself into.

~~

The next day, I showered, put on my best clothes, and made my way to the address, a sleek office building in the heart of the city. The elevator took me to the top floor, where I was greeted by a receptionist who seemed to know exactly who I was.

"Mr. Landry is expecting you," she said, her voice cool and professional.

My heart hammered in my chest as I was led into a spacious office, the walls lined with bookshelves. The man behind the desk looked up. Our eyes met as he held out his hand. I took it, my mind racing. This was the man whose house I had broken into, the man who had the power to ruin my life or give me a second chance. Now, he was going to be my boss.

"Thank you." Despite the chaos of my thoughts, my voice was steady. "What exactly does this job entail?"

Alex dropped my hand, then sat back down in his chair. He leaned back in it, his eyes never leaving mine. "You're going to be working at my club. But it's not just any club. You'll be catering to the elite at a BDSM club." His tone was matter-of-fact. 

I blinked, trying to process the information. The shock was incredible. My hand went to my chest as if to keep my heart from leaping out. "A BDSM club?" I breathed.

"Ah, Cherie," Alex murmured, his voice dripping with charm. "You see, I have… particular tastes. As such, I have a need for someone who can blend in; who can be both a conversationalist and a... distraction."

My mind raced with questions, but I knew better than to show my hand. I nodded, trying to play it cool.

"Alright," I said, my voice measured. "What do I need to do?"

Alex leaned forward, his eyes intense. "You'll undergo training, of course. Learn the art of seduction, how to be the perfect... hostess."

A shiver ran down my spine, feeling a double innuendo in his words. This was a world I had only ever seen in books and movies; a place where power and passion intertwined in a dance of dominance and submission. I had a feeling I was about to learn more about that form of a relationship than I had ever wanted to.

"You'll need to move to New Orleans," he continued. "It's where the club you'll be working in is located. As well, where I live most of the time."

The thought of leaving Chicago, my home, was daunting, but the promise of a fresh start was too tempting to resist. "When do I leave?"

"Tonight," he said, his smile widening. "I've taken the liberty of arranging everything for you. A car will be outside your apartment at seven sharp. Be ready."