Two years had passed since Darla's unexpected arrival in this new world. The initial shock of living among vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural beings had long faded, replaced by a shrewd understanding of her environment. With every day that passed, Darla grew more adept at playing the dangerous games of power, perception, and survival.
Under her guidance, she and her group of friends—Emma, Mia, Olivia, and Isabella—had transformed their circumstances. What began as a harsh existence in the brothel's shared dormitory had turned into something resembling autonomy. Through sheer determination and calculated effort, Darla earned them rewards that elevated their status.
Their private suite, a luxury unattainable for most, was the first milestone. Gone were the cramped bunk beds and communal washrooms. Instead, they had their own space—an apartment that Darla herself had meticulously designed. Drawing on her engineering knowledge from her previous life, she modernized the suite with innovations that baffled even the staff of Elige Desiderium. Faucets in the kitchen, efficient shelving, and individual beds with draped posts all came to life under her careful planning. The girls had grown used to the stares of envy and awe from others in the brothel.
This morning was no different. The girls rose early, their routine as smooth and organized as clockwork. Mia prepared breakfast, the delicious aroma of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and buttered toast wafting through their homey kitchen. The others set the table, chatting softly about the upcoming day. Darla sat at the head of the table, sipping her tea and smiling at the ease with which her makeshift family operated.
"Emma, don't forget to bring that hairpin I made for you," Darla said, her tone soft but authoritative.
Emma, the shyest of the group, had blossomed under Darla's mentorship. She had leaned into a coquettish charm, always dressed in delicate ruffles and soft pastels. Today, she wore a purple dress with layered skirts and matching shoes, her hair pinned back with intricate ornaments.
Mia, the vibrant and cheerful one, had embraced a girly, floral aesthetic. Her strapless beige corset top and button-up skirt, paired with thigh-high boots, were charming yet playful. She grinned as she passed a plate to Olivia, whose refined elegance was apparent in her every move.
Olivia's style was timeless—a sleek bodycon dress in navy blue hugged her form, its high slit accentuating her long legs. A corset cinched her waist, and her silver heels added a touch of glamour.
Isabella, ever confident and sultry, wore a rich maroon dress with intricate embroidery and subtle cutouts, paired with striking red heels. Her dark curls cascaded down her back, making her every step feel like a deliberate move in a game of allure.
And then there was Darla. The emerald green mesh dress she chose for the day was bold, sophisticated, and utterly captivating. The off-shoulder design, with its delicate ruffles and thigh-high slits on both sides, highlighted her striking features. Her high bun, accented with loose tendrils of hair, framed her face perfectly.
The girls finished breakfast and began their preparations for the evening. As Gold-level attendants, their responsibilities had shifted to serving the elite—VIPs and VVVIPs of the supernatural world. Their elevated position meant more scrutiny but also greater rewards, including the 30 gold coins they now earned nightly.
Darla inspected each of the girls, her sharp eye catching every detail. "Emma, your hair ornament is slightly off-center. Let me fix it," she said, stepping forward to adjust it.
The girls accepted her critiques with gratitude, knowing her input was key to their success.
"I still can't believe how far we've come," Olivia said as she smoothed the fabric of her dress. "From bunk beds and shared washrooms to this."
"We worked hard for this," Isabella replied, slipping on her heels. "No one handed it to us."
Darla smirked, satisfied with their determination. "Exactly. And remember, we didn't come this far to be average. We aim higher."
As the girls prepared to leave their suite, Darla looked around their meticulously decorated apartment. No one else had stepped foot inside since they moved in, not even Madam Violet. The polished wooden floors, vibrant curtains, and personal touches like framed art and cozy cushions made it feel more like a home than a room in a brothel.
The brothel staff occasionally whispered about the mysterious, modern decor. Darla's ability to innovate and transform even the most mundane details into something remarkable was a testament to her previous life's expertise.
"Ready?" she asked the group, her gaze sweeping over them.
The girls nodded, each exuding the confidence they had worked so hard to cultivate. They stepped out into the corridor, their heels clicking against the floor as they made their way downstairs.
The nightly briefing was as routine as ever. Madam Violet inspected each girl, her sharp gaze lingering on Darla longer than the rest.
"Exceptional as always," the madam murmured, her tone neutral but her eyes betraying approval.
Miss Vrim scowled in the background, her obvious dislike of Darla as persistent as ever. Darla met her gaze briefly, her expression unreadable, before turning her attention back to Madam Violet.
Simon appeared as the girls filed into the Silver Room. His cool demeanor didn't falter, but Darla caught the flicker of recognition in his eyes when he spotted her. She hid a satisfied smile.
The rising reputation of Darla and her girls had made them sought after by the most elite guests. Their exquisite nature, professionalism, and polished presentation placed them a cut above even the older, more experienced workers. Among the Gold Level attendants, which included supernatural beings like vampires and werewolves, Darla and her group were anomalies—human women surpassing expectations in a world that thrived on predatory power.
Naturally, this success bred resentment. Many of the older attendants, some of whom had centuries of experience due to their supernatural longevity, looked down on Darla and her girls. The whispers and envious glances were constant, but Darla paid them no mind. She was playing a larger game, one that required her full focus.
That evening, as the girls lined up to receive their assignments, Mr. Simon's calm but commanding voice cut through the murmurs of the room. He addressed the older workers first, assigning them their tables. There were small side glances and thinly veiled scowls as he eventually turned to Darla and her group.
"Darla," Simon said, his tone professional yet firm, "you'll be handling a private booth tonight—the Ruby Room."
Gasps and whispers erupted behind her. The Ruby Room was one of the most exclusive spaces in Elige Desiderium, reserved only for the wealthiest and most influential clients. Renting the room alone cost 2,000 gold coins—a fortune beyond imagining for most.
Darla inclined her head gracefully. "Understood."
The other girls were assigned high-tier guests at prestigious tables, but it was clear Darla's assignment stood out. As they departed, Isabella leaned over and whispered with a smirk, "Ruby Room, huh? Guess they want the best for the best."
Darla smiled faintly but didn't respond. Her mind was already working, preparing for what lay ahead.
As she approached the Ruby Room, Darla adjusted her posture, her expression serene but unreadable. Inside, the atmosphere shifted. The room was elegant, adorned with intricate gold-and-crimson detailing, velvet drapes, and crystal chandeliers. It was spacious yet intimate, designed for comfort and luxury.
The guests were already seated—five men and three women. Darla immediately noticed the mix of species: three vampire men and one vampire woman, paired with two werewolf men and two werewolf women. Among them was a couple, their body language unmistakably close. She recognized the possessiveness in the male werewolf's stance, his hand resting protectively on the woman's thigh.
Darla was to enter last, and she did so with flawless grace. Her movements were silent, her demeanor poised and refined as though she had been trained by the finest etiquette teachers. She carried herself with an air of calm authority, her beauty and confidence radiating in a way that demanded attention without words.
The subtle shift in the room's atmosphere did not go unnoticed by the guests. They were masters at concealing their emotions, but Darla's entrance had stirred their curiosity.
As she distributed the food and drinks, Darla ensured that each guest was attended to with meticulous care. She was particularly mindful of the couple, offering them the utmost respect and subtly avoiding any action that might seem intrusive. She knew from experience how territorial werewolves could be with their partners.
Her interactions were seamless, her attention to detail impeccable. She maintained an air of professionalism and poise, never allowing the oppressive aura of the supernatural guests to unnerve her.
Though she was unaware, she had captivated their attention. Her refined manners and unflinching composure set her apart. They exchanged fleeting glances with one another, their interest piqued by the human woman who carried herself with such natural authority in their presence.
Once the orders were served, Darla turned to leave, but a voice stopped her.
"Stay," said the female werewolf who had arrived with her partner. Her tone was soft yet commanding, leaving no room for refusal.
Darla paused, turning back to face her. "Of course," she said smoothly, her voice betraying neither hesitation nor fear.
The other attendants were excused, and Darla was left alone with the eight guests.
The woman who had spoken leaned back in her chair, her sharp eyes studying Darla intently. Her partner, the male werewolf, glanced at her briefly, a flicker of approval passing between them.
"What's your name?" the vampire woman asked, her tone curious but laced with an edge.
"Darla," she replied, meeting the woman's gaze without flinching.
"And you're human," one of the vampire men remarked, his voice low and smooth. It wasn't a question but a statement of fact.
"Yes," Darla answered simply, her calm demeanor unwavering.
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on her. She could feel their supernatural presence, their power palpable in the air, but she refused to let it faze her.
"You're... different," the male werewolf finally said, his gaze piercing. "Not like the others."
"Perhaps," Darla replied enigmatically, a faint smile gracing her lips.
The conversation shifted as the guests began to discuss matters among themselves, occasionally directing a question or comment toward Darla. She answered each one with precision and respect, never overstepping her bounds but also never shrinking under their attention.
Though the encounter was brief, it left an impression. As Darla was finally dismissed, she walked out of the Ruby Room with the same poise she had entered, her head held high.
Behind her, the guests exchanged knowing looks.
"She's... intriguing," the vampire woman murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"She's more than that," the male werewolf replied, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
The others didn't respond, but the agreement was unspoken. Darla was no ordinary human, and they all knew they would cross paths with her again.
Darla stepped out of the Ruby Room with an air of calm, her face composed as always. The weight of the encounter lingered, though she brushed it off with the poise she had become known for. She walked down the grand hallway and rejoined the other servers, slipping seamlessly back into her role.
Her next task was to serve a table filled with boisterous guests—a mix of werewolves and humans celebrating some minor victory. She was quick to adapt, matching their energy with polite but warm engagement, skillfully keeping the drinks flowing and the mood light. Nearby, her girls were doing the same, each embodying the unique style Darla had helped them craft.
The hours passed, and the hum of conversation and music filled the brothel's lavish halls. Near the end of the shift, a notable stir rippled through the room. The guests from the Ruby Room had exited and were now heading toward the exit.
The werewolf couple led the way, their presence commanding. The woman's sharp gaze roamed the room before it landed on Darla, who was gracefully attending to her rowdy table. She paused mid-sentence, her attention on her guests unwavering despite the weight of the couple's gaze.
Her calm demeanor seemed to amuse the woman, who leaned closer to her husband. "I wonder," she said, her voice low but laced with intrigue, "when we'll have another meeting."
"At first, I was confused," the man chuckled, his deep voice carrying a hint of teasing, "but now I see. You want it here again—so she can attend to you."
The woman didn't respond, but the faint smile that touched her lips was answer enough.
In the second carriage, the vampires sat silently, their piercing eyes fixed on the brothel's ornate facade. There was no discussion, only a shared understanding among them. One of the men leaned back, a faint smirk on his face, as their carriage rolled away into the night like shadows disappearing into the ether.
Back inside, Darla and the other girls were finally wrapping up their shift. The mood was lighter now, exhaustion bringing out jokes and laughter among the group.
"My feet feel like they've walked all the way to Broln and back," Isabella groaned dramatically, wobbling on her heels.
"I told you to wear the insoles," Mia teased, her tone playful. "But nooo, 'they ruin the look!'"
Olivia chuckled, pointing at her own sensible but still elegant shoes. "Practicality wins every time, darling."
Emma, carrying her tray with a slight limp, sighed. "Forget insoles—I'm asking Madam Violet if we can work barefoot next time."
Darla laughed softly, her calm presence grounding the group's chatter. "If you want to bring that up, you'll need to be ready with a ten-minute speech to convince her."
"Please, Darla," Isabella groaned, leaning dramatically against the wall. "You're the one who can convince anyone of anything. Just ask for us!"
Their banter continued all the way to their suite, which they had nicknamed The Oasis. They burst through the door in a chaotic tumble, each one kicking off their shoes with varying degrees of grace—or lack thereof.
Emma tripped over her heels and landed in a pile of cushions, letting out an exaggerated wail. "This is it—I'm never walking again!"
Mia, trying to catch her own shoes mid-toss, managed to hit the light fixture instead. "Whoops! Okay, maybe no more high heels in the house."
Olivia set her tray down and plopped onto one of the armchairs, sighing dramatically. "Ladies, tonight we survived another war zone. Let's drink to that!" She raised her imaginary glass, earning giggles from the others.
Darla shook her head fondly, closing the door behind her. "You're all impossible," she said, though her smile gave away her amusement.
After the initial chaos, the girls settled into their routines. They quickly freshened up, taking turns in the bathroom before gathering in their shared kitchen. Dinner was simple but satisfying—leftovers from the meal they had prepared the previous night.
As they ate, the room filled with warmth and camaraderie.
"So," Mia began, leaning forward with a mischievous grin, "who had the weirdest client tonight?"
"Not weird, but talkative," Isabella said, rolling her eyes. "He spent twenty minutes explaining why Brolnian wine is superior to Xarian blends, as if I care."
"Better than mine," Olivia interjected. "Mine couldn't decide if he wanted to flirt or cry about his ex-wife. I got whiplash."
The group dissolved into laughter, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
Darla, quieter than usual, smiled as she listened to their stories. It was moments like this that reminded her why she worked so hard—not just for herself, but for these girls who had become like family.
As the night wound down, the laughter gave way to soft chatter. One by one, the girls wished each other goodnight and retreated to their individual beds.
Darla lingered for a moment, gazing out the small window at the moonlit city. The Ruby Room encounter played over in her mind, but she pushed it aside. For now, she was content to rest, knowing tomorrow would bring new challenges—and new opportunities to climb higher.
With a small sigh, she turned off the light and slipped into bed, her mind already plotting the next steps in her journey.