Til Kingdom Come

FIORELLA

“Alright, sweet or salty?” I hold up two bags of microwave popcorn. “I’m leaning toward—”

“Hold up—who’s buzzing?” Mia cuts me off. We all freeze, trying to locate the source.

“It’s Ella.” Lila grabs my phone off the coffee table and tosses it my way.

I drop the bags to catch it, shooting her a look. “It’s my agent,” I announce, glancing at the screen. “Maybe I left something at the shoot this morning—let me just answer it, I’ll be quick!” I answer the call.

“Hey, darling! How was the shoot today? I saw a few of the proofs—the client loved you. Seriously, they said you killed it in that set. Stunning, naturally.” Her voice is quick, urgent. “Listen, I have a favor to ask.”

My eyes flick to my friends, who have gone back to selecting a movie. “A favor?”

Gwen rattles on, like she’s in a rush. “Yes—listen, I know you said no before, but since you’re already lingerie-ready, I figured I’d give it another go. Remember the event tonight? One of the girls just canceled.”

I shift, running a hand through my hair. “I’m going to have to stop you there, Gwen. You’re talking about the strip club, right?”

“It’s not a strip club, Ella. Just a private party—a short gig, and the pay is ridiculous. You can’t pass up this opportunity, darling, it’s too good.”

I grimace. “It’s serving drinks. In underwear. I can definitely pass that up—besides, I’m with my roommates, and it’s late—”

“They’re paying seven grand.”

“Seven grand?!” I choke on my gasp. Mia and Lila whirl, movie instantly forgotten.

“What?” Lila mouths, leaning over the back of the couch.

“A gig,” I mouth back.

“Thought that might change your mind,” Gwen gloats. “It’s just a few hours, Ella. Put on a pretty little set, wear some heels, and collect the check.”

I hesitate. “I don’t know, Gwen. I’m not an escort. If they want girls serving them in lingerie, there’ll be touching. I don’t think getting ‘accidentally’ fondled is worth it—not even seven grand.”

“There’s a very strict no touching policy,” Gwen presses. “Tons of security. I’d never send my girls somewhere unsafe, I hope you know that.”

Lila nods her head aggressively. “Do it. It’s seven grand!”

I glance down at the very comfortable pajamas I’ve already slipped on, and at the couch that looks incredibly inviting. Before I can say anything, Lila vaults the back of the couch and pries the phone from my hand. “She’s in! Text her the address, I’ll drop her off in thirty minutes.”

I can hear Gwen squealing on the other side of the line. “They’ll actually pick you up and drop you back off. I’ll send them now—talk soon!” She hangs up before I can say anything.

Lila wiggles her brows at me. “You’re welcome.”

I yank my phone out of her hand. “You’re an awful roommate, you know that? Remind me to look for a new place tomorrow.”

“Sure, I’ll do that,” Lila lies, grabbing my shoulders and steering me toward my room. “We’ve got some lingerie to pick out.”

Five minutes later, all of my underwear is laid out on my bed—the good, the bad, and the skimpy. Mia holds up a silky red set. “This is sexy as hell, and still pretty decent, somehow?”

I crinkle my nose. “Feels cliche, doesn’t it? Besides—I don’t want to draw any attention to myself. Nothing red or black.” I hook my finger into the strap of a gray bra. “Maybe something understated like this?”

Mia and Lila look at me like I’m holding a mud-stained nun’s habit. “Ew. No.” Lila crosses her arms, eyes scanning the bed. “What feels most like you?”

I bite my lip, looking at all the little pieces spread across my mattress. My eyes catch on a soft pink babydoll and matching panties. It’s short and sheer enough to be sexy, but covering enough to leave something to the imagination. “This, maybe? Cute, but still sexy.”

Mia and Lila nod approvingly. “That’s the one. Go change.”

The sleek black car rolls to a stop, the sound of the engine shutting off only to be replaced by the roaring of blood in my ears. The street is quiet, but the building in front of me screams power: dark stone, lots of glass, subtle lights glinting off polished surfaces inside.

A valet opens my door, extending a hand to help me out.

I climb out awkwardly, wobbling on my heels as if I haven’t spent the last four years parading around on ones twice as high as these.

A man in a dark suit steps forward before I can even reach the curb. “Miss Leoni?” His voice is low, measured. “Follow me.”

I nod, gripping my clutch tighter. My pulse is loud in my ears as we glide through the lobby, all sparkly chandeliers and polished marble. The faint smell of cigar smoke clings to the air, dark and expensive.

The man leads me down a narrow hallway to a side entrance, where another attendant waits. “The changing rooms are here. Please leave your bag in the locker. No personal items allowed inside.”

I step inside, the heavy door falling shut behind me. I send Lila a quick text.

Fiorella: I’m here! Already regretting every choice leading up to this. Prepare for my revenge.

Lila: We’ll talk after you collect your seven grand, princess.

I roll my eyes and mutter a curse under my breath, stuffing my phone back into my clutch and placing it in the locker. Then I peel off my coat and dress, leaving just my lingerie and heels.

I suddenly feel very exposed. I’ve never been insecure about my body—hell, I’ve been on magazine covers in sets much more revealing than this one—and yet this feels different somehow. Maybe because there’s no gawking at photoshoots. Everyone is there to do a job. Here, not so much.

I glance down at my babydoll, clutching the lace hem in my hands. I bite my lip, anxiety creeping in. Maybe I should have picked something darker.

Before I can panic further, there’s a knock on the door. I open it to reveal a woman on the other side—tall, sharp, and professional. “Miss Leoni?” She’s holding a pen, clipboard tucked under her arm. “I’m here to guide you. Your outfit is acceptable, though…” She glances at my babydoll, then back at me. “…it will stand out. Are you sure you’re comfortable?”

I force a smile. “I’m not sure—maybe I should go back—”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. We’re already two girls short—it’ll have to do.”

I nod, not very reassured, and follow her into the kitchen. The other girls are already there—all dressed to kill. Black lace, red satin, ankle-breaker heels. They glance at me, some raising eyebrows, others smirking faintly.

I wrap my arms around myself, suppressing the urge to turn around and make a beeline for the car. “Hi.”

A petite brunette with chocolate-colored eyes smiles warmly. “Hey, I’m Camilla. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Pink stands out, but… in a good way.”

I grimace. “Thanks. I’m Ella.”

“Ella,” she repeats, like she’s tasting the name on her tongue. “Cute.” She gives me a wink. “Stick with me tonight. I’ll show you the ropes.”

The woman with the clipboard nods at me. “You’ll be serving drinks tonight. Security will monitor everything. You’ll be fine, just… act confident and don’t talk.”

I glance at the other girls, then back at my reflection. The soft, pink babydoll feels extra vulnerable now that I’m surrounded by black lace and red satin. My stomach tightens, doubts creeping in.

Camilla nudges me gently. “Hey, relax. You look amazing. Seriously. Trust me, confidence is everything. It’s way more important than color.”

I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. Maybe security will take pity on me and watch me extra closely.

I glance at Camilla again. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re here.”

She grins. “Anytime. Now let’s go make some money, Ella.”

I nod, the thrill and terror mingling in my chest, and follow her and the rest of the girls to the doors and the unknown world behind them.

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