The amber glow of a desk lamp bathed Madam Violet's office in warm light, illuminating the neat stacks of papers, ledgers, and a decanter filled with a deep red liquid. Violet reclined in her high-backed chair, sipping from a delicate crystal glass. Across from her, Mr. Simon sat with his own glass in hand, the liquid within swirling as he contemplated.
"A busy evening," Simon remarked, his tone calm but reflective.
"As always," Violet replied with a slight smile. "The Ruby Room guests were satisfied, which is no small feat. Darla, as usual, managed it effortlessly."
Simon chuckled. "Effortlessly is putting it lightly. That girl has a knack for handling the high-profile clients. She's made an art out of it—and polished her little group into something extraordinary."
Violet set her glass down on the desk, her nails tapping lightly against the polished surface. "Indeed. They've become the shining stars of this place. Clients ask for them by name, and their aura of exclusivity has given this brothel a level of fame I hadn't anticipated. They're a testament to Darla's leadership."
Simon leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. "Of course, with that fame comes envy. The older girls don't take too kindly to being outshone by humans, and neither do some of the werewolves and vampires working here. I've overheard whispers. Discontent could brew if we're not careful."
Violet nodded, her expression hardening slightly. "It's not just internal. Their reputation is starting to reach the higher-ups in other branches. Soon enough, they'll want to see what makes our operation in Vlora so unique. We'll need to ensure Darla and her girls are protected."
Simon's lips curved into a faint smirk. "Protecting them means keeping an eye on them, too. There's still the matter of their living arrangements. I've heard the rumors—how they've transformed their suite into something entirely unrecognizable. Yet, neither of us has seen it. It makes one curious, doesn't it?"
"Curious," Violet echoed, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "And cautious. We'll find a discreet way to examine their setup. For now, let's focus on keeping their talents here and their attention loyal. They're a valuable asset."
The conversation turned to other matters—new girls being inducted, potential sponsors expressing interest, and the persistent issue of Mrs. Vrim's noticeable laundering of money and goods. The latter prompted a sigh from Violet, who swirled her glass absentmindedly.
"Mrs. Vrim continues to push her luck," she murmured. "One of these days, her greed will bring trouble to our doorstep."
Simon leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. "When that day comes, we'll deal with it. For now, let's focus on what works. Darla and her team are the future of this place—at least for the time being."
Sunlight streamed through the windows of The Oasis, casting golden streaks across the modern, well-decorated space that Darla and the girls called home. One by one, the girls stirred, the late morning hour allowing them a rare chance to wake naturally after their late-night shift.
Mia was the first to shuffle into the shared kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She stopped mid-yawn, her gaze locking on Darla, who stood at the counter in a sleek apron, assembling an impressive spread for breakfast.
"Chicken sandwiches, pancakes, smoothies, grapes, and honey? Did you rob a banquet?" Mia teased, leaning on the counter.
Darla smirked without looking up from her task. "Consider it a reward for surviving another night."
Soon, the rest of the girls joined, lured by the enticing aroma. Olivia plopped into a chair, still wrapped in a soft robe, while Isabella grabbed a grape and popped it into her mouth with a grin.
"This is why we keep you around, Darla," Isabella joked. "You spoil us."
Emma, the last to arrive, padded in with a sleepy smile. "It smells amazing. What's the occasion?"
"No occasion," Darla replied, setting a platter of pancakes on the table. "Just thought we could use a good start to the day. Late shifts are hard enough without starting the next day on an empty stomach."
The girls settled around the table, chatting and laughing as they ate. Darla poured a glass of milk for each of them, her calm demeanor setting the tone for their relaxed morning.
As the meal progressed, the conversation shifted to the previous night's events.
"Did you see the Ruby Room guests when they came out?" Olivia asked, cutting into her pancake. "They looked... intimidating."
"And rich," Mia added with a raised brow. "Their carriages screamed money."
Emma nodded, her cheeks slightly pink. "I caught one of the vampires staring at me. It was... unsettling."
"They weren't staring at you, Emma," Isabella teased. "They were staring at Darla. As usual."
All eyes turned to Darla, who raised an eyebrow but continued eating without missing a beat.
"They're clients," she said simply. "And it's our job to leave an impression. Let's not read too much into it."
"Still," Olivia said thoughtfully, "it's clear they were impressed. That woman practically glowed when she looked at you."
"Maybe she'll come back," Mia said, winking. "And bring more gold with her."
Darla gave a small smile but said nothing, her mind already moving ahead to the next challenge.
After breakfast, the girls cleaned up together, their camaraderie evident in the way they teased and joked as they worked. The sound of their laughter filled the suite, a stark contrast to the darker realities of their work.
As they finished, Mia leaned against the counter and looked at Darla. "So, what's the plan for today?"
Darla glanced around at her team, her mind sharp and focused. "We keep improving. The better we are, the closer we get to what we want."
"And what is it that you want?" Olivia asked, her tone light but curious.
Darla met her gaze with a small, knowing smile. "Freedom. For all of us."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words settling over them. Then, with renewed determination, they began preparing for another night—ready to face whatever challenges awaited them.
The morning air in Vlora buzzed faintly with activity as the girls of Darla's group prepared for their day. Though their routine was often dictated by the brothel's demands, today was an exception. Permission from Madam Violet allowed them to step out, and the girls seized the opportunity to gather supplies for their ongoing mission of self-improvement.
After finishing breakfast and tidying the suite, Darla gathered the group around the dining table, a notepad and pen in hand.
"Alright, ladies," she began, her tone calm but commanding. "We're pooling five gold coins each for a total of twenty-five. We're budgeting for makeup supplies, raw materials for foundation, groceries, and pastries. Anything leftover can go toward personal necessities. Got it?"
The girls nodded, their faces serious. Over the past two years, Darla had drilled the importance of planning and budgeting into them. Waste was a luxury they couldn't afford, and every coin saved could mean a step closer to their goals.
Once the plan was set, they donned simple yet chic dresses—nothing overly attention-grabbing but still polished. Each outfit reflected their individual styles: Emma's pastel ruffles, Mia's floral prints, Isabella's sultry yet tasteful cuts, Olivia's classic elegance, and Darla's modern sophistication.
Stepping out of the brothel into the streets of Vlora was always a peculiar experience. The air outside carried a freedom they could taste but not fully grasp, as the watchful eyes of guards trailed their every step. Escape wasn't an option; the stories of those who tried were burned into their minds. Instead, they focused on the task at hand.
Their first stop was a boutique known for its luxurious cosmetics. Darla examined the products carefully, testing colors, textures, and quality. Emma held up a bright pink blush, her face lighting up.
"This would look great on Mia," she said with a giggle.
Mia rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm more into subtle tones, but go ahead and get it if you think it works."
They stocked up on essentials—eyeshadow palettes, lipsticks, brushes, and sponges—before heading to a store that sold raw materials. Darla scrutinized each item, selecting the perfect ingredients for her homemade foundation: kaolin clay, pigments, and oils.
"Are you sure this will work, Darla?" Olivia asked, holding up a small vial of mineral powder.
"Positive," Darla replied confidently. "Custom-made foundation saves money and ensures it matches perfectly. Trust me, it'll elevate your look."
With their cosmetic haul complete, the group moved on to the bustling market square. They stopped at a jewelry store, where sparkling trinkets caught their eyes. Isabella bought a delicate ruby pendant, while Emma chose a pair of butterfly-shaped earrings.
The pastry shop was next, its sweet aroma drawing them in like a magnet. They selected an assortment of tarts, cakes, and éclairs, all neatly boxed for their evening tea.
"Don't forget the groceries," Mia reminded them, dragging the group to the produce stalls. They bought fresh vegetables, fruits, meats, flour, and spices, their arms quickly filling with bags. At their final stop, a small boutique, they picked up personal items—soaps, combs, and other necessities.
By the time they returned, their feet ached, and their arms felt like lead from carrying the numerous bags. The guards at the brothel entrance barely glanced at them, used to their comings and goings.
Inside their suite, the girls dropped their bags unceremoniously onto the floor.
"I swear, my hands are going to fall off," Isabella complained dramatically, flopping onto the nearest chair.
"Your hands?" Mia shot back. "What about my poor feet? These boots weren't made for carrying half the market!"
Darla chuckled softly, handing each of them a glass of water. "Drink up, ladies. We've got unpacking to do."
They began sorting their purchases, laughing and joking as they worked. Emma held up a particularly frilly dress she'd picked up on impulse, earning groans from the others.
"Emma," Olivia teased, "is there a single outfit in your wardrobe that doesn't look like it belongs to a porcelain doll?"
"I like looking like a doll!" Emma retorted, sticking out her tongue.
With everything unpacked and stored away, the girls gathered in the living room for Darla's makeup lesson. Darla arranged the tools and products neatly on the coffee table, her expression serious.
"Today," she began, "we're focusing on blending. If your foundation doesn't match your skin tone perfectly, it's game over."
She demonstrated the technique on Olivia, applying the homemade foundation and blending it seamlessly into her skin. The girls watched intently, taking turns practicing on each other under Darla's guidance.
"Emma, a lighter touch," Darla instructed. "You're not painting a wall."
Emma blushed but laughed, adjusting her technique.
As the lesson wrapped up, the familiar sound of shouting echoed through the brothel's halls: the nightly call for preparation.
Isabella groaned, flopping onto the couch. "I can't wait for Sunday," she whined dramatically, throwing an arm over her eyes.
"Just one more night," Darla reminded her with a small smile.
"Easy for you to say," Mia shot back, pulling herself up. "You actually like this stuff."
"Correction," Darla replied, standing gracefully, "I like being the best at it. Now, up you go. Time to shine."
The girls laughed, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as they headed to their rooms to prepare. Their makeup lesson had left them feeling confident, and as they slipped into their carefully curated outfits, they knew they were ready for whatever the night would bring.
Sunday couldn't come soon enough, but for now, the girls embraced their roles with the same poise and determination that had brought them this far.
The air in the suite buzzed with anticipation as Darla and her group prepared for the brothel's grand monthly showcase. The last night of the month was always an extravaganza—a chance for the establishment to bring in high-paying clients and impress those who could elevate the brothel's reputation further. It was also an opportunity for Darla and her girls to solidify their dominance as the most coveted group in the house.
Tonight's theme was bold and breathtaking: red. The color of passion, power, and allure. Each girl had spent the afternoon perfecting her look, their preparation a mix of camaraderie, precision, and artistic flair.
Darla stood before the mirror in her bedroom, scrutinizing her reflection. She wore a tight bodycon dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The red at the top faded into a fiery orange near the hem, which sat just mid-thigh. Her stockings were delicate red lace, paired with crimson stiletto heels that added height and drama. Her hair, slicked back and free-flowing, framed her face like a silken cascade. The gold headpiece she secured at both sides shimmered under the soft light. A red pendant rested against her collarbone, complementing her winged earrings, arm bangle, and long lace gloves. Her makeup was flawless—a smoky blend of reddish-orange shadows, sharp cat eyeliner, and bold red lips that completed her bewitching look.
"Perfect," she murmured to herself, stepping back to admire the entire ensemble.
In the adjoining room, the other girls were putting the finishing touches on their outfits.
Isabella's corset dress was pure red at the bodice, fading into black at the skirt. The high slit revealed her shapely legs clad in sheer black stockings. Her black heels gleamed under the light. Her hair was swept into a messy bun, with loose strands framing her sultry makeup. She opted for smoky eyes, a bold wing, and deep crimson lips.
Mia twirled in her red-to-gold ombre dress, the colors sparkling like liquid fire. Her hair fell in soft waves, and her red stockings paired perfectly with her matching heels. Her jewelry—red and gold—caught the light as she moved, accentuating her radiant appearance.
Olivia stood tall in her red-to-silver dress, the fabric shimmering like frost kissed by fire. The deep neckline and elegant slit exuded sophistication, and her silver heels added a touch of icy elegance. Her hair, styled in an intricate updo designed by Darla, was a masterpiece in itself. Silver jewelry and a hint of sparkle in her makeup completed the regal look.
Lastly, Emma looked enchanting in her playful yet alluring dress. The heart-shaped neckline and off-shoulder design gave a youthful vibe, while the hot pink ruffles at the edges added a flirtatious touch. Her bouncy curls, tied into a messy updo, complemented her pinkish-red choker and earrings. She wore a high-thigh band with her pink stockings and matching heels, her makeup a soft blend of reddish-pink tones with glossy pink lips.
The girls gathered in the common area, their eyes sparkling as they admired each other.
"You're all stunning," Darla said, her tone warm yet commanding. "Remember, tonight is about making an impact. Walk in there like you own the place."
"And don't trip," Isabella added with a teasing grin, earning a laugh from the group.
The brothel's main hall was already alive with music, chatter, and the clinking of glasses. The older girls had taken their positions, moving gracefully among the guests. Mr. Simon and Madam Violet stood at the edge of the room, observing the flow of the evening.
Then, the air shifted. The grand double doors opened, and Darla and her group stepped in.
A hush fell over the room as heads turned toward the entrance. The girls moved as one, their movements graceful and synchronized. The bold reds of their outfits created a visual symphony that was impossible to ignore. Even the most seasoned guests, who had seen countless beauties in the brothel, found themselves captivated.
Darla led the group, her stride confident and purposeful. Her piercing gaze swept the room, her expression composed but alluring. Behind her, the other girls followed, each embodying their unique style and personality. Together, they were a vision of perfection.
Madam Violet's lips curved into a small smile as she leaned toward Mr. Simon. "I must admit, they've outdone themselves tonight."
Mr. Simon nodded, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a glimmer of admiration. "They've elevated the standards of this place. Everyone here knows it."
As Darla and her group descended the staircase, murmurs filled the hall. Clients whispered to one another, and even the older girls, who had once dismissed them as mere upstarts, couldn't hide their envy.
Once on the main floor, the girls split up to attend to their assigned tables. Darla's group had been strategically placed among the most prominent guests of the evening.
Darla approached her table, which was occupied by a group of wealthy werewolves. She greeted them with a soft smile and a polite nod, her movements calculated to exude elegance. She began pouring their drinks, her voice calm and steady as she engaged them in conversation. Despite the werewolves' usual aloofness, they seemed charmed by her demeanor.
At another table, Isabella's sultry laugh echoed as she entertained a high-ranking vampire lord, her sharp wit keeping him intrigued.
Mia moved gracefully among her guests, her warm smile and gentle humor creating a relaxed atmosphere.
Olivia's refined elegance had her table of aristocrats hanging on her every word, while Emma's bubbly personality and playful charm brought laughter to her group of merchants.
As the night went on, the girls' presence transformed the room. Guests gravitated toward them, their infectious energy and impeccable professionalism making them the undisputed stars of the evening.
Even Madam Violet found herself impressed. "They're not just servers," she said to Mr. Simon, "they're performers. They've turned this into their stage."
By the time the evening drew to a close, the girls had not only exceeded their quotas but left an indelible mark on everyone in attendance.