The morning after the gala, I woke up with a newfound sense of purpose. The connections I had made were more than names and numbers; they were doors waiting to be opened. And I held the keys. As I sipped my coffee, my phone buzzed with messages—follow-ups from the men I had met, invitations for lunches and private meetings. Each notification felt like a stepping stone to something greater.
Victor's guidance continued, but I could sense a shift in our dynamic. He was no longer just a mentor; he was an observer, watching to see how far I could go on my own. "Remember," he said one day as I prepared for another meeting, "people will want to use you. Make sure you're using them more."
The first lunch was with Mr. Caldwell, the silver-haired gentleman whose compliments at the gala had bordered on flirtation. He took me to a restaurant that screamed exclusivity, where the waiters moved with silent efficiency and the menu had no prices.
"You're a breath of fresh air," he said as we dined on dishes I couldn't pronounce. "So many people in this industry are stale, predictable. But you, Alis, you're different."
I smiled, tilting my head just enough to appear both grateful and intrigued. "I believe in keeping things interesting," I replied.
By the end of the lunch, he had offered me a consulting role on one of his projects. The pay was generous, the commitment minimal. "Consider it a way to get your foot in the door," he said. But I knew better. It wasn't my foot he was interested in.
Richard Holloway's invitation came next. A dinner at his private residence. The prospect made my pulse quicken. Richard was different from the others. There was a sharpness to him, a sense of control that both intimidated and excited me.
His home was a testament to his success—a sprawling mansion with marble floors and an art collection that could rival a museum's. As we sat in his dimly lit dining room, he poured me a glass of wine and leaned back in his chair, studying me.
"You're an enigma, Alis," he said finally. "You're ambitious, but there's more to you than that. Tell me, what drives you?"
I hesitated, the wine glass cool in my hands. "Freedom," I said. "The freedom to live life on my terms."
He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "I respect that. But freedom comes at a cost. Are you prepared to pay it?"
"I am," I said, and I meant it.
The evening ended with an agreement. Richard would introduce me to his circle—a network of influential individuals who could offer opportunities beyond my imagination. In return, I would assist him with certain "projects." The details were vague, but I didn't care. This was my chance to ascend.
As the weeks passed, my world transformed. I was attending exclusive events, signing deals, and making a name for myself. The power I wielded was intoxicating. I could see it in the way people looked at me, the way they listened when I spoke. I was no longer just a girl from a one-room flat. I was Alis Parker, a woman to be reckoned with.
But with power came challenges. Rivalries emerged, subtle at first but growing bolder. Women whispered behind my back, men tested my boundaries. It was a game, and I was determined to win.
One evening, at a charity auction, I encountered a woman named Celeste. She was everything I aspired to be—elegant, influential, untouchable. But beneath her polished exterior was a sharpness that made me wary.
"You're making waves," she said, her smile as calculated as her words. "But be careful, darling. The higher you climb, the harder the fall."
I returned her smile, unfazed. "Thank you for the advice. I'll keep that in mind."
That night, as I lay in my bed, Celeste's words echoed in my mind. The sweet taste of power was addicting, but it was also dangerous. I had stepped into a world where alliances were fleeting, and loyalty was a rare commodity. But I was ready. I had made my choice, and there was no turning back.
The girl who once doubted her worth was gone. In her place was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it.