The alarm screamed through the dark room. I lay face down on the bed with one arm hanging off the edge. Sleepily, I patted the floor until my fingers found my phone, dragged it to my face, and swiped the alarm off. 1:00 AM. It was the hour when the rest of the world slept. It was also the hour when my work began. My boss, Alex Knight, didn't ask for my presence. He demanded it, at one in the morning, every single night. He'd never explained why, and in two years, I had never been brave enough to ask. My eyes shot open. "No, no, no, no." I threw the blanket off and ran for the bathroom. I bathed in under three minutes, so fast that I'm not sure the soap even touched my skin. I pulled on my black dress, grabbed my shoes, and didn't bother putting them on. I would wear them along the way. Every second counted. Because every little second I added to my lateness could cost me my job and I could not lose this job. On my way to the door, my eyes landed on the small table in the corner of the room, where my mother's medicine bottles stood in a neat row. Some were half empty. One was nearly finished. Each bottle cost more than I earned in a week, and my mother was dying without them. That was the only reason I put up with a boss who worked like the sun had never been invented. I hopped down the stairs on one foot, jammed my toe into my shoe on the second floor landing, and ran out into the cold night, my hair still dripping down my back. By the time I reached the glass tower of Knight Industries, my lungs were on fire, my chest pounding very fast. The lobby was empty and silent. The night guard didn't even glance up as I slapped my card against the scanner and slid into the elevator. I pressed the top floor and stared at my watch as the numbers climbed. 1:09 AM. One minute to spare. "Thank God, thank God, thank God," I whispered to myself. The elevator opened onto the executive floor. The hallway was cold and dim, and at the far end stood the black double doors of the CEO's office. My desk sat just outside them, a small wooden island in a sea of marble. But there was someone standing by my desk. A woman. She was tall, and she carried herself like the building belonged to her. Her dark hair fell in one smooth sheet to her waist, her lipstick was the exact red of a fresh wound, and her white coat was the kind of expensive that didn't have a visible price tag. One sharp heel tapped against the marble, over and over again, like a clock counting down my patience. I slowed. That's not a staff. And she's not here to deliver a package either. Her eyes slid over me, from my damp hair to my mismatched earrings to my scuffed shoes, and her nose wrinkled as if I smelled bad. "You." She didn't even say hello. "Tell Alex I'm here. Now."she said putting on more red lipstick and it irritates me because it's already so red like blood which the fuck does she need to add more? I forced a polite smile. At one in the morning, polite was all I had left. "Good morning, ma'am. Mr. Knight isn't expecting anyone according to his schedule for tonight. Do you have an appointment?" She laughed. It was soft and cold and left a chill on my arms. "An appointment." She repeated the word as if it were a joke she'd heard a hundred times. "I don't need one. Move aside, little human girl." "I'm sorry, I can't let you in without one," I said, as gently as I could. "But if you tell me your name, I can book you a slot for tomorrow. Mr. Knight is very strict about his..." "My name?"Something flashed across her face, and the smile slid right off. "I am Whitney Vale," she said, each word sharp enough to cut. "I am Alex's betrothed. Our families arranged our marriage before you were old enough to hold a pen. And you, his assistant, are going to ask me to book a slot?" My stomach dropped to my shoes. Betrothed? In two years, I had never heard Alex mention a fiancée. Not once. I knew his coffee order, his flight schedules, his mother's birthday, and the names of the three women who'd cried in his office last winter. But I had never heard her name. "Miss Vale," I said slowly, keeping my voice steady. "I'm sure you're very important to him. But rules are rules, and if I break one, I lose my job. I'm sorry." "Sorry?." Whitney stepped closer, and the temperature of the room dropped. "You say it like it means something." "It means I'm trying to be polite," I said before I could stop myself. "At one in the morning. For both of us." Her eyes narrowed. A tiny, dangerous smile curved her lips. "Oh," she said softly. "You have a sharp tongue." And then the lights above us flickered. I felt it first on my skin, a prickle, like the moment before a thunderstorm. Whitney's shadow stretched across the wall behind her, and it wasn't the shadow of a woman anymore. It had black thick wings like bats. Something small and dark burst from the folds of her coat and flapped past my face, close enough that I felt the wind of its wings. I stumbled back with a yelp as a bat swooped once, twice, then dropped to the marble floor. Black smoke curled up around it. And in a heartbeat, Whitney stood there again, in human form, smoothing her hair as if nothing had happened. I couldn't breathe. My brain scrambled for a logical explanation: a trick, a hologram, I'm still asleep and this is a nightmare brought on by too much stress..... "You humans," Whitney said, almost kindly. "So slow. So fragile. You see something you don't understand and you start looking for excuses." She raised one hand. "Let's see how fragile you really are." An Invisible force slammed into my chest. I flew backward. My heel caught the edge of the carpet, my bag tore off my shoulder, and the world tilted. The marble floor came rushing up at me, shiny and hard and merciless. This is going to hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut. And then...Nothing. No crash, no pain or sound, then I opened my eyes. The whole room had stopped. My bag hung in midair beside me. A page that had slipped out of my folder floated halfway to the floor, its corner bent. Whitney stood frozen with her hand still lifted, her cruel smile locked on her face like a mask. No humming from the lights. No hum from the air conditioning. Not even the sound of my own heartbeat. Then I felt a hand, pressed firmly against my waist. Warm. Strong. Holding me up. Slowly, I turned my head. Alex Knight stood over me. His black suit was perfect, but his dark hair was slightly disordered, as though he had come out of his office in a hurry. His eyes were the color of burning coals. They didn't look human, and they didn't look calm. He didn't say a word. He just lifted his other hand and snapped his fingers. The world rushed back. My bag hit the floor with a thud. The page landed softly. The lights hummed again. Whitney gasped, and my heart came back to life, hammering so hard I thought everyone could hear it. Alex lifted me back onto my feet, and his hand stayed at my waist for one second longer than it needed to before he let go. "Thank you, sir," I whispered. My voice shook. He didn't answer me. His gaze had already moved to the woman across the room, and it was colder than I had ever seen it. "Whitney." His voice was low, smooth, and terrifying, like a blade being drawn slowly from its sheath. "You used your magic. In my building. On my assistant." Her face went pale for half a second. Then she lifted her chin and put on a sweet smile. "My king, I only wanted to see you. This human l was being rude, and I..." King? The word echoed in my head like a bell. "Get out of my office." "Babe..." "Now." The word rolled through the room like thunder. The windows rattled in their frames. Whitney's red lips trembled, and she looked at me, not at him, with a hatred so pure that my stomach turned cold. "You'll regret this," she whispered, so quietly that only I could hear. "I promise you that, little human. I'll make you pay for every second of it." She spun on her heel and stormed to the elevator. The doors closed on her furious face. Silence settled over the floor again. I knelt and gathered my bag and papers, my hands trembling so badly I dropped the same page twice. I didn't dare look at the man standing next to me. "Olive." I straightened. "Y-yes, Mr. Knight?" He was looking at me in a way I couldn't read. It wasn't anger, and it wasn't concern. The fire had faded from his eyes, leaving them a deep, dark brown, but something still burned behind them. "You saw everything," he asked quietly. My heart skipped. "I... I'm not sure what I saw, sir." A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips "Good. Keep it that way." He turned and walked toward his office, and I stood in the middle of the hallway with my heart racing and my mother's medicine bottles flashing through my mind. Yes I've to stay calm and pass through this, I need this job to get mom more meds My boss wasn't just a demon in the way everyone at the office joked about. He was the King of Demons. And he had just saved my life. I had a feeling it was going to cost me far more than I could afford to pay.

I didn't sleep. I lay flat in bed after my shift, staring at the ceiling, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same things. A bat on marble. A frozen room. A pair of eyes the color of burning coals. King of Demons. "It was a dream," I whispered to myself. "A stress dream. You're overworked, Olive." But the memory of his hand on my waist was too warm to be a dream. I slept very late, just 5 minutes past 1 I almost lost my joy. I was halfway through my coffee when my desk phone rang. "My office. Now."then he hanged up. My stomach tightened. After last night, I had expected him to avoid me, or maybe to fire me. I hadn't expected to be summoned the very next morning. I smoothed my skirt, took a deep breath, and knocked on the black doors. "Come in." His office was enormous, with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over the whole city. Alex stood behind his desk in a dark suit, his back to me, hands in his pockets. In the daylight, he looked completely human. Sharp jaw, tired eyes, not a single horn in sight. I almost laughed at how normal he looked. "You called for me, Mr. Knight?" He turned. A document landed on the desk between us with a soft smack. "Page twelve," he said. "Read it." I picked it up. It was the Harrington contract, the one I had typed up and reviewed three times before sending it to legal. I scanned page twelve, and my blood ran cold. The figure in clause four was wrong. A zero was missing. Ten million had become one million. "I... I don't understand," I stammered. "I checked this. I checked it three times." "Evidently not well enough." His voice was calm, which was worse than if he had shouted. "If this had gone out, my company would have lost nine million dollars. Do you know how many people would have been fired because of one missing zero?" "I'm so sorry, sir. I'll fix it right now. I..." "Fixing it doesn't change the fact that it happened." He took a step around the desk. "Last night, I saved you from a fall. This morning, you almost cost me nine million dollars. Tell me, Olive, is that how you thank me?" My face burned. "That's not fair. I..." I stopped. Don't argue. You need this job. "You're right," I said, swallowing my pride. "It was my mistake, and I take full responsibility. It won't happen again." "It better not." He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne, cedar and something darker underneath. "You're distracted. Why?" Because yesterday I watched a woman turn into a bat, and my boss stopped time with his hands. "I didn't sleep well," I said instead. "Is that all?" Before I could answer, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it. It stopped, and then it started again, harder this time. "Answer it," Alex said. "It's fine, sir, it can wait..." "Olive." Something in the way he called my name made me pull the phone out. The screen showed a number I knew too well. St. Mary's Hospital. My heart stopped immediately. My thumb pressed the green button before I even thought. "Hello?" "Is this Olive Hart?" The voice was rushed, and behind it I could hear a machine beeping, a distant alarm, people shouting. "I'm calling about your mother, Mrs. Hart. Ma'am, you need to come to the hospital immediately." The room tilted. "What... what happened?" "Her heart stopped about ten minutes ago. We managed to revive her, but she's in critical condition. Ma'am, she almost didn't make it." I couldn't breathe. Almost died?. The words rang through my head again and again. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else. "Is she... is she alive? Please tell me she's alive." "She's stable for now. But you need to come in. The doctor wants to speak to you urgently." "I'm coming. I'm coming right now." I lowered the phone, and I realized my face was wet. I hadn't felt the tears start. They slid down my cheeks, one after another, and I couldn't stop them. I had forgotten where I was. I looked up and saw Alex watching me. He had heard everything, I was sure of it. For a long moment, he didn't speak. His face was unreadable, but his eyes weren't cold anymore. I opened my mouth, but my voice cracked. "Sir, I... my mother..." He gave one slow nod. Just one and that was all. Go. I didn't wait for another word. I grabbed my bag and ran. I don't remember the taxi ride. I don't remember how I got through the hospital doors. I only remember the white corridor, the smell of disinfectant, and the sound of my own shoes slapping the floor. "Dr. Reyes!" I gasped, catching sight of the man outside my mother's room. "Where is she? Is she okay?" "Miss Hart." He pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, and in that small gesture, I knew it was bad. "Please, come with me." He led me to a small office. A nurse stood quietly in the corner, her eyes lowered. "Your mother is alive," he said. "But I won't lie to you. Her condition has deteriorated much faster than we expected. The medication she has been taking is no longer enough to control it." "Then give her something stronger. Whatever she needs." "We can." He hesitated. "There is a treatment plan, an advanced one. It would stabilize her heart and give her a real chance of recovery. Without it, she'll likely have only a few weeks. Maybe less." My knees nearly gave out. "How much?" My voice came out as a whisper. Dr. Reyes looked at me gently, as if he already hated what he was about to say. "The full treatment, including surgery and the medicine afterward, comes to three hundred thousand dollars." The words hit me like a wall. "Three... hundred thousand?" I laughed, and it came out broken. "Doctor, my salary isn't even close to that. I wouldn't make that in ten years. In twenty even if I'm been given the time to." "I understand. If you can pay a portion up front, the hospital may arrange a payment plan, but we'll need a deposit within the next few days." A few days. "Okay," I said, because I couldn't think of anything else to say. "Okay. Thank you, Doctor." He nodded sadly and left the room with the nurse. The door clicked shut behind them. And I stood there alone. For a moment, I felt nothing. Then my legs folded, and I knelt on the cold floor, covering my mouth with both hands as the sobs tore out of me. I don't know how long I stayed there. When I finally pulled myself together, I washed my face in the bathroom and went to my mother's ward. She lay in the bed, pale as the sheets, tubes running into her arms. She was unconscious, and her chest rose and fell slowly. I sat beside her and took her hand. It was so thin, like holding a bird. "Mom," I whispered. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." My voice cracked. I leaned my forehead against her hand and cried quietly, so I wouldn't wake her, even though she couldn't hear me. "I'll find the money," I promised. "I don't know how yet, but I will. Just hold on for me. Please." "Olive?" I turned around. Ellen stood in the doorway, my best friend since we were children, her coat still half buttoned and her hair a mess. She had clearly run all the way. "I got your message," she said, out of breath. "Oh, Liv..." She crossed the room and pulled me into a hug, and I fell apart in her arms again. When I finally told her everything, about the doctor, the treatment, and the number, she was silent for a long time. "Take my savings," she said at last. "Ellen, no." "It's not much, but it's something. I can pay the deposit..." "No." I shook my head firmly. "That money is for your future, and I won't take it." "Olive, this is your mother." "I know." My voice was shaking. "And I still can't. Your savings are for your career fees, your only way out of this life. If you use it, you'll be stuck in the same place forever. And I can't ask you to throw your savings in the fire because of my mother." Ellen's eyes filled with tears. "You are the most stubborn person I have ever met." "I know." She wiped her face and looked at my mother, then at me. I could see her thinking hard, the way she always did when she'd made up her mind about something. That night, I went back to the hospital for the evening visit. My phone buzzed with a message from Ellen. I found something. It pays a LOT. Night shift, starting tomorrow. You'll hate it at first, but we need to talk. I stared at the screen. What kind of job? The three dots blinked for what felt like forever. Then her reply came, and my blood ran cold. A dancer. At the Velvet Room. Olive... it's a stripper job. I read the message three times. Beside me, my mother's heart monitor beeped softly, steady and fragile, counting down the hours I didn't have. I was already working for a demon. Was I really going to sell the rest of myself to the nights?

The Velvet Room didn't look like the kind of place that would ruin a person's life. That was the first thing that scared me. It sat at the end of a quiet street, a black building with a deep red door and a soft golden sign. There was a line of people outside in expensive coats, laughing like they had nothing to worry about. Music thumped faintly through the walls. "You don't have to do this," Ellen whispered, gripping my arm. "I know." "We can find another way." "Ellen." I kept my eyes on the red door. "The deposit is due in three days. Tell me another way." She had no answer. I pulled my coat tighter and walked inside. The manager was a tall woman named Madame Rouge, with silver hair and a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She looked me over once, slowly, the way a buyer inspects a car. "Ellen told me about you," she said. "You're in need for money." "I'm in a hurry to save my mother's life," I corrected. "Same thing." She slid a form across the desk. "One night to audition. If the guests like you, you start tomorrow. Tips are yours. Eight hundred a night, minimum." Eight hundred a night. My brain did the math automatically. It would take almost a year to reach the number I needed. But it was more than I'd ever earned. "Sign here," she said. "And someone will take you to the dressing room." My pen hovered over the paper. Mom. Think about Mom. I thought I signed. The dressing room smelled like perfume and hairspray. Bulbs glowed around a long mirror, and a girl with glittering eyelids helped me into a costume that made my face burn. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I didn't recognize the woman who looked back. This isn't me. "First night's always the hardest," the girl said kindly. "Just don't look at the faces. Look at the lights." I nodded. My hands were shaking so badly that I knocked a lipstick off the table. Through the thin wall, I could hear the crowd cheering. A door banged open somewhere. Heels clicked closer. And then, in the mirror, I saw a familiar white coat. My stomach dropped. "Hello again, little human." Whitney Vale stood behind me, smiling, her red lips curved like a blade. The girl with the glittering eyelids went pale and hurried out without a word. I spun around. "What are you doing here?" "Oh, darling." She walked a slow circle around me, her heels loud on the floor. "I own this place." The room went silent. Even the music seemed to fade. "You... own..." "My family does. Did you really think a night-shift job paying eight hundred dollars just happened to land in your best friend's lap?" She tilted her head. "Poor Ellen. She really thought she was helping." Something cold slid down my spine. "You set this up." "I only opened a door," Whitney said sweetly. "You walked through it all on your own. Isn't it funny? Alex's perfect little assistant, who was too polite to let me in, is wearing that in my club." My face burned with shame and fury. "Why are you doing this?" "Because you humiliated me." She stopped inches from my face, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "And because I never forgive. Do you know what happens when a human gets in the way of a demon, Olive?" I swallowed. "What happens?" "Hearts stop," she whispered. "Quite suddenly. For no reason at all." The blood drained from my face. Her heart stopped about ten minutes ago. "No," I breathed. "No. It was you? My mother..." "I said nothing of the sort." Her smile widened. "Your mother is simply very ill. And you are very poor. These things happen. But you should hurry, little human. Three days is such a short time." I lunged for her. I didn't think. I just moved, grief and rage tearing out of me, my hands aimed at her throat. But before I could touch her, Whitney lifted a finger, and I flew backward into the mirror. The glass cracked behind my head, and I hit the floor hard. She stood over me, laughing softly. "Pathetic human." "What's going on here?" A voice came from the doorway, low, calm, and absolutely deadly. The laughter stopped. I looked up through blurry eyes, and my heart nearly broke from relief and terror at the same time. Alex Knight stood in the doorway. His black coat was dusted with rain. His dark eyes moved from the cracked mirror to me on the floor, then to the costume I was wearing, and his jaw went tight. A muscle jumped in his cheek. The lights above us began to flicker, then burst one by one, sending sparks across the room. "Alex," Whitney said quickly, her smile faltering. "I can explain..." "Explain what?." He crossed the room in three strides. Without a word, he pulled off his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders, covering me completely. His hands were gentle. His eyes were not. "Can you stand?" he asked me, quietly. I nodded. I couldn't speak. He helped me up, then turned to Whitney. The temperature in the room dropped so fast that I could see my breath. "I told you to stay away from her." "She is nothing, Alex! She is a human! You can't..." "Touch her again," he said softly, "and I will forget that we were ever promised to each other." Whitney's face twisted in a way I hadn't seen yet. It wasn't anger. It was fear. "You would break the betrothal," she whispered, "for this useless human?" "Try me and stop calling her names." He didn't wait for her answer. He put his arm around my waist and carried me in a bridal style out of the room, past the staring girls, past Madame Rouge's frozen face, and out through the red door into the rain. His car was waiting at the curb, black and silent. He opened the door for me and said nothing until we were both inside and the engine started. Then his voice cut through the silence. "What were you thinking?" I stared at him. "Excuse me?" "A strip club, Olive. A strip club." "It's none of your business!" My voice cracked, and I hated how weak it sounded. "I'm not asking for your approval, Mr. Knight. I don't work for you in the daytime. What I do after my shift..." "You work for me at one in the morning," he said, his voice rising. "And you almost walked into a trap laid by a woman who wants you dead." "Then why didn't you warn me?" "Because I didn't know until tonight!" We glared at each other in the dim light. His eyes were flashing again, that burning red. Mine were stinging with tears. "My mother needs three hundred thousand dollars," I said finally, and my voice broke. "In three days, or she dies. What would you have me do? Sit around and wait for a miracle? Some of us don't have a dollar in the bank, sir. Some of us have to earn it." For a long time, he didn't speak. The rain drummed against the roof. "Which hospital?" he asked at last. "What?" "Which hospital is your mother in?" "Why?" "Just tell me." "St. Mary's," I whispered. He turned the car around. It was past midnight when we reached the ICU. The nurses recognized me and let us pass, though they stared at the man beside me. Alex walked silently down the white hall. I led him to my mother's bed and stood by the window, feeling like an idiot. Why did I bring him here? He stopped beside her bed and looked down at her for a long time. "Mr. Knight? What are you..." "Quiet." He placed two fingers lightly against my mother's wrist. Nothing happened. Then his expression changed. I had never seen that look on his face before. Alex Knight, the man who froze time without blinking, looked shaken. "Olive," he said slowly. "Come here." I stepped closer. He lifted my mother's thin arm and turned her hand over. Faintly, just beneath the skin of her palm, something dark was glowing. It was a thin black mark, curled like a vine, spreading toward her wrist. "What is that?" I whispered. "A curse." The world stopped for the second time that week. "A... what?" "This is not an illness." His voice was low, almost to himself. "It's a binding curse. It's been feeding on her heart for months. Your mother's medicine only slowed it down." My legs went numb. "Months? But... who would..."I stopped Quite suddenly. For no reason at all. "Whitney," I choked out. "She did this. She's the one who..." "No." He said shortly and I looked up at him. Alex was staring at the mark on my mother's palm, and his face had gone completely white. Not angry. Not shocked but fear "The curse is much older than Whitney's quarrel with you," he said. "And she isn't strong enough to cast it." "Then who..." He turned my mother's hand a little more toward the light, and I saw it clearly for the first time. At the center of the vine was a small, burning symbol. A crescent moon, pierced by a sword. I didn't know what it meant. But Alex did. "That's my family's crest," he whispered.