Wendy stood in the rain, and for a moment it felt like the downpour wasn't water, but years of humiliation crashing down on her shoulders. She couldn't breathe under the weight of it all.
She wanted to run away.
Just as she turned to flee, a hand gripped her wrist.
It was Tara. No one knew when she had come back out but she dragged Wendy through a different entrance to the club.
The rain was now a heavy downpour.
"You're lucky," Tara said. "Getting humiliated by Sarah just earned you a bigger opportunity."
"What?"
"Cole's interested in you. Do his dirty work, and you'll get far more than Sarah ever could."
Tara pulled open a hidden door. Inside was a world of smoke, teasing laughter, and the clinking of glasses.
The air reeked of alcohol and raw indulgence. Naked bodies and broken women sprawled across expensive sofas like discarded rags.
Dragged through it all, Wendy hurried to keep up with Tara, her eyes darting away from the grim spectacle around her.
She would not fall into the same hell as those women. She had to seize every opportunity.
Even if she had no idea who Cole really was.
…
That night, at The Haven, the garden was serene and soft under the glow of warm lights. Flowers glimmered under the changing hues of cool and warm lamps.
The nearby man-made lake shimmered under reflected boat lights, its surface alive under the glow of distant lanterns.
Serena lounged alone on a second-floor terrace recliner. Snuggie curled contentedly in its little cat bed beside her, batting at a ball of yarn.
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