BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Pay the rent! Or pack your things and get out!"
The sharp voice belonged to their landlady, Odette.
Adina shot up from the couch, heart pounding. She rushed to the door, stepping outside and shutting it behind her so the kids wouldn’t have to hear Odette’s nonsense.
"Mrs. Odette, I remember the rent isn’t due until next month."
She smiled, keeping her tone polite. When it came to money, Adina never forgot a thing.
Odette adjusted the mink scarf around her neck and gave Adina a smug look. "Oh, you’re good at counting, huh? Then tell me, do you know how much your family uses in water, electricity, and gas every day? Your rent for next month has already been deducted!"
Adina’s brow furrowed. What?
Their house barely had any appliances—just an old fridge. No air conditioners, no heaters, not even a washing machine. They scrubbed their clothes by hand.
How in the world did that add up to two thousand five?
She clenched her jaw, knowing full well Odette was just looking for an excuse to squeeze more money out of them. But today wasn’t the day to start a fight—not when it was her little sister Yara’s birthday.
"I’ll have the money for you first thing in the morning—"
"No way!" Odette cut her off. "Do I look like a charity? You pay today, or I’ll throw you and your little brats out into the cold!"
Adina swallowed the bitter retort on the tip of her tongue. She stared at Odette’s smug face, her fingers tightening around the sleeves of her coat.
It was too late to go sell blood now.
"Hurry up!" Odette snapped, lifting her wrist to check her gold watch. The thing was so gaudy it practically screamed I overcharge my tenants.
Adina’s mind raced. Then, suddenly, she remembered something.
"Mrs. Odette, how about a deal?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Patek Philippe watch with a sapphire face.
Odette’s beady little eyes widened the second she saw it.
She didn’t recognize the brand, but she knew luxury when she saw it—especially with all those diamonds glittering on the dial.
"Where’d you get this?" Odette reached for it, but Adina pulled it back.
"I’m not giving it to you," she said coolly. "I’m mortgaging it. Tomorrow, I’ll pay you the rent and take it back."
"Talita!" she called.
A small head peeked out from the living room.
"Bring me some paper and a pen."
Under Adina’s careful dictation, the little girl scribbled out a lopsided mortgage agreement. Odette, eager to get her hands on the watch, barely glanced at it before signing.
As soon as the landlady was gone, Adina folded the paper neatly and tucked it into her coat’s inner pocket. She’d work tonight, get the money, and reclaim the watch tomorrow.
After all, the thing was worth more than this whole damn neighborhood.
Back inside, she set the birthday cake down in front of Yara and adjusted the flimsy paper crown on her little sister’s head.
Talita helped insert the candles, already drooling over the sight of the cake.
The only boy in the house, twelve-year-old Zain, lit the candles without a word.
"Make a wish," Adina whispered, brushing Yara’s soft hair. "It’s Christmas Eve, and it’s snowing. Your wish is bound to come true."
Yara stared at the cake in silence, her pink cheeks puffed as she thought.
Maeve led the birthday song.
"Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~"
The second the song ended, Yara puffed out her cheeks and blew out the candles—then immediately went back to playing with her old toy, completely uninterested in the cake.
Talita had no such hesitation. She devoured Yara’s portion before anyone could stop her.
Once the celebration was over, the kids went to bed early.
Adina left a few lollipops on their pillows, kissed Yara’s cheek, and slipped out with Maeve.
"She’s four years old and still won’t talk…" Maeve sighed as they walked to the curb. "When we finally make some real money, we’ll find the best doctor for her."
Adina nodded, determination burning in her chest.
For Yara, she’d do whatever it took.
They hailed a cab and headed to the most infamous bar in the city—Pony Bar.
Maeve had pulled some strings to get them a gig as part-time waitresses. The pay was the highest they could find, even if the job itself was a nightmare.
---
Pony Bar
VIP Room.
Dim lights. The clinking of ice against crystal glasses. A haze of cigar smoke and laughter filled the room.
Caleb, the club’s young owner, sat in the center, surrounded by beautiful women.
"Man, my bar really must suck if there’s not a single woman here that Alaric likes," Caleb said mockingly, casting a glance at the man brooding in the corner.
Alaric.
Jet-black hair. Chiseled features like something carved from marble.
Unlike the others, he didn’t indulge in the women draping themselves over him. His sharp eyes remained fixed on his whiskey glass, his fingers lightly swirling the dark liquid.
"Still sulking over your lost wallet?" Caleb teased. "No one’s buying that."
Alaric ignored him and downed his drink.
Caleb sighed dramatically and turned toward the club’s main floor. The VIP room had one-way glass—dark on the outside, crystal clear on the inside.
Christmas always brought in a surge of customers, which meant plenty of new temporary hires.
His gaze scanned the waitresses bustling between tables—until it landed on one.
"Call that one in to deliver our drinks," he instructed the manager, nodding toward a particular figure.
The manager, experienced in Caleb’s habits, knew exactly what that meant.
"I'm heading out," Alaric muttered, standing up and grabbing his coat.
But before he could leave, the manager returned.
"Boss, the girl’s here."
A woman stepped into the room, balancing a tray.
Her uniform hugged her figure perfectly, emphasizing every curve. But it wasn’t just her body that caught attention—her face was striking, with delicate yet well-defined features.
"Your Black Peach A," she said smoothly, setting the drink down.
Caleb smirked, about to make a comment—until he noticed something strange.
Alaric was staring.
Staring at her.
Intensely.
Caleb raised an eyebrow. Oh? So this is your type, huh?
Before he could say a word, Alaric was suddenly in front of the girl, grabbing her wrist in a vice grip.
"What the hell?!" Adina gasped, yanking her arm. The sudden pain made her lift her head—
And her breath caught.
Him.
He was him.
His face was so sharp and handsome it was almost unreal. But his eyes—dark, piercing, and furious—sent an icy chill through her veins.
"What’s the matter?" he murmured. His voice was deep, smooth, but unmistakably dangerous.
"Don’t you recognize me?"
Adina’s heart slammed against her ribs.
"Sir, you must have the wrong person," she said quickly, lowering her gaze. But she couldn’t stop her eyes from flickering toward his wrist.
Her blood ran cold.
Before Caleb could intervene, the door swung open again.
"Boss!" The manager rushed in. "Someone swiped a card at the register—it’s Alaric’s black card!"
Everyone froze.
Then two security guards dragged a struggling girl inside.
"It’s one of the new part-timers—"
Before the manager could finish, the girl burst into tears.
"Adina! Thank god! Tell them the card’s yours! They think I’m a thief!"
Adina’s stomach dropped.
"Maeve?"
Maeve sobbed, her face streaked with tears. “I accidentally broke a guest’s wine glass… They told me I had to pay for it. I panicked and tried to run, but then I found your wallet in the changing room… in your coat.” Her voice trembled. “Adina, that black card—it must have been from your boyfriend, right? Just explain it to them! Please!”
Adina felt the blood drain from her face.
If she had a boyfriend who could hand her a black card, would she really be working part-time in the middle of the night just to make ends meet?
Maeve had just made things a hundred times worse.
“The wallet’s been found,” the manager said, stepping forward and placing it on the coffee table.
Alaric didn’t even look at it. His grip on Adina’s wrist remained firm, his intense gaze locked onto her face.
The manager hesitated before glancing at Caleb. “Boss… what should we do with these two thieves?”
Caleb sighed dramatically. “What a shame. Looks like we’re sending them to the police.”
Despite his usual soft spot for beautiful women, even Caleb knew when not to cross a line. And this was Alaric—one of the most dangerous men in the pack.
No one knew the full details of what happened that night five years ago—who had set Alaric up or how he had gotten out of it—but one thing was clear: he had been searching for her ever since.
And now, this was the first woman he’d ever willingly laid a hand on.
If it wasn’t because he liked her… then it was because she’d just royally pissed him off.
“Adina, what’s going on?” Maeve’s voice cracked, her tears falling freely.
Caleb, ever the ladies’ man, pulled a few tissues from his pocket and handed them to her. The way her red-rimmed eyes shimmered with distress had him feeling unexpectedly sympathetic.
Adina took a steadying breath, forcing herself to meet Alaric’s eyes. “I’ll pay back every cent.” Her voice was calm, controlled.
Something flickered across Alaric’s face.
Then, slowly, he released her wrist.
But the sensation of touching her still lingered—like a phantom spark dancing across his skin.
His heart, normally steady and unreadable, pounded once. Hard.
No one else in the room would have noticed the change, but he did.
And that bothered him more than anything.
Adina caught the heat in his stare, a slow, burning intensity that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
She frowned, uneasy.
Because in that moment, she realized—whoever this man was, he wasn’t going to let her walk away so easily.