Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
The staff room door stood ajar, spilling fluorescent light into the dimmer hallway. I slipped inside, grateful to find the room momentarily empty. My tray clattered loudly as I set it down on the counter, my hands shaking too badly to control the noise. I leaned against the edge of the sink, trying to steady my breathing, trying to process what had just happened.
Valentina's words echoed in my head. Each phrase felt like a needle, pricking at the bubble of security I'd built around myself these past weeks. Was there truth in her warnings, or was this just the jealous attack of a possessive ex who couldn't let go?
I turned on the cold water, wetting a paper towel to pat my face carefully to avoid ruining my makeup while giving some comfort to my heated skin. When I looked up, catching my reflection in the small mirror above the sink, I barely recognized myself. My cheeks were flushed with emotion, my eyes too wide, too bright. I looked haunted, hunted. I pressed my palms against my cheeks, trying to cool the heat there, trying to compose myself before I had to return to the floor.
Valentina was right. I was out of my depth. This world of wealth and power, of unspoken rules, it wasn't mine. I was just passing through, collecting paychecks and tips, trying to build something stable for myself. Getting caught up in whatever game Dario and Valentina were playing would only end in disaster. For me, not them.
The door swung open behind me, and I quickly straightened. Ricky, one of the newer servers, stepped inside, his arms full of clean glassware. He stopped when he saw me, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. "Belle? You okay?" he asked, setting down his load on a nearby shelf.
I forced a smile, aware it didn't reach my eyes. "Fine," I lied, reaching for a paper towel to dry my hands. "Just needed a minute."
Ricky studied my face, clearly not believing me. We'd formed a tentative friendship over the past weeks, bonding over being new in a place that felt like it had a million unwritten rules. He'd shown me which shortcuts to take between sections, which bartenders made the strongest drinks, which security guards were more likely to help with rowdy customers.
"You don't look fine," he said bluntly. "Was it a customer? Did someone get handsy? I can tell Wilson—"
"No, nothing like that," I assured him quickly. "Just... it's been a long night." I busied myself with arranging clean glasses on my tray, avoiding his concerned gaze.
Ricky stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Was it Valentina? I saw her heading toward the service corridor earlier, looking like she was on a mission."
My hands stilled on the glassware. "You know her?"
He snorted softly. "Everyone knows her. She's here at least twice a week, always watching Dario like she's waiting for him to mess up." He hesitated, then added, "She cornered one of the bartenders last month, asking all kinds of questions about who Dario talks to, who he spends time with."
"Why does she care? They're not together anymore, right?" The question slipped out before I could stop myself.
Ricky shrugged, but there was something guarded in his expression. "That's the official story. But with people like them..." He trailed off, then added cryptically, "Just watch yourself, Belle. I don’t think the owner's social circle is a safe place for people like us."
Another warning. First Mr. Longmire, then Valentina, now Ricky. All telling me the same thing in different ways. Stay away from Dario Luca.
"I need to get back to the floor," I said, picking up my freshly loaded tray. "The drinks for my new table are probably ready." I gave my usual cheerful smile.
Ricky smiled back, though his concerned expression didn't fade. "Just... be careful, okay?"
I nodded, forcing another smile. “Trust me. I have no desire to be part of any of that. I’m also not trying to get the boss’s attention.” I deliberately generalized Dario, hoping to make my point more believable.
I pushed through the door and headed back toward the main floor. The music enveloped me as I emerged from the service area, the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter washing over me even as I was still reeling from the unexpected encounters. If I were honest, Ricky’s concerns were more troubling than Valentina’s threats.
I delivered drinks to the blue table on autopilot, my smile professional but distant as I moved through my duties. The weight of Valentina's warning followed me like a shadow, casting doubt over every interaction, every memory of my time at The Gray. Had I misread everything? Had I seen kindness where there was only calculation, interest where there was only amusement? And what could he possibly want from me?
The rational part of me knew I should listen to the warnings, should keep my head down, do my job, and stay far away from anything to do with Dario Luca. But another part, a part I wasn't proud of, couldn't let go of the memory of his touch, of the intensity in his blue eyes when they'd held mine, of the gentleness in his hands as he'd tended my wounds.