She Rogue

11. The Contract

Atria POV

“As a what?” I asked, my voice betraying both confusion and skepticism.

“A filler,” Gabriel repeated, his tone calm and measured. “It’s what we call someone who can step into various roles, depending on what’s needed. Today, it’s the bar. Tomorrow, it might be running errands, helping with inventory, or accompanying me to handle business matters. No s****l jobs involved.”

His eyes lingered on mine, dark and unwavering. “You’d have to be available at all times unless we agree otherwise. Most of the time, you’ll be on standby, but you might also keep me company, provide your opinion, or even help with tasks as mundane as grocery runs. It’s a flexible position.”

I blinked at him, stunned. Was this real? A job like this seemed too vague, too odd, to be anything legitimate. It sounded like something he’d made up overnight.

“Are you serious?” I managed to ask, my voice a mix of disbelief and wariness.

“I am, Atria.” His tone softened as he leaned slightly closer. “It’s a rare opportunity, and I’m offering it to you. I think you’re the right kind of person for it.”

His words unsettled me. Why would he think that? I wasn’t special. I was just a rogue trying to survive, no different from any of the others who had walked through these doors.

“Don’t you already have someone doing this?” I countered, forcing a small, sarcastic smile.

“Not at the moment.” He leaned back in his chair, studying me like a puzzle he was piecing together. “There used to be someone, but the need disappeared when the roles became permanent. Now, with recent… disruptions, I realized it’s time to bring someone new in.”

I frowned, skepticism growing. “And there are definitely no s****l favors or naked dancing involved?”

“Absolutely not,” Gabriel said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not unless that’s something you’d decide for yourself.”

His gaze darkened momentarily, and I felt a strange pull in my chest, a heat rising that I couldn’t explain. He pushed a folder across the desk. “Take a look at the contract if you’re uncertain.”

I hesitated before picking it up, my fingers brushing the smooth leather cover. As I opened it, my heart sank. The document spanned several pages, with spaces for my name, age, and status. The conditions, while detailed, were baffling:

Confidentiality at all times: Anything seen or heard in Lola must remain there, even after the contract ends.

On-call presence: I was required to stay at the club or in a location of Gabriel’s choosing, unless otherwise agreed.

Potential travel: I might be asked to accompany him for unspecified reasons.

The clauses felt invasive, but what caught my attention was the reimbursement section. My eyes widened as I read:

Monthly payment: ***** It was more money than I could scrape together in six months, let alone one.

All living expenses: Housing, food, medical, dental, clothing—everything covered.

Bonuses for exceptional performance.

I stared at the numbers, my mind racing. This wasn’t just a job offer—it was an escape from the life I’d been clawing through for decades.

“Why?” I muttered aloud, more to myself than to Gabriel.

“Why what?” His voice was smooth, controlled, but there was an edge of curiosity.

“Why are you offering this to me? I don’t get it.”

Gabriel’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “I told you, Atria. I think you’re the right fit. And I don’t make offers lightly.”

I glanced back down at the contract, my unease growing as I read the next line:

Absolute truth and honesty required at all times: Any lies would void the contract immediately.

I frowned, the clause feeling oddly personal. Was this a standard agreement, or was it tailored to me?

“What’s with this truth clause?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gabriel leaned forward slightly, his presence overwhelming. “I don’t work with liars. Truth builds trust, and trust is non-negotiable in my world.”

His words sent a chill through me, though I couldn’t tell if it was fear or fascination.

“That’s a lot of trust for someone you just met,” I said, my voice sharper than intended.

Gabriel chuckled softly, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Let’s just say I have a good instinct about people.”

I hesitated, glancing back at the final section of the contract: Term Options: Six months. One year. Two years. Five years. Ten years.

“Ten years?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “You want me to commit a decade of my life to… this?”

Gabriel shrugged, his expression neutral. “You choose the term. No one’s forcing you to sign.”

I felt Aurelia stir within me, her presence sharp and insistent. “Sign it!” she growled.

“What? Are you crazy?” I snapped back.

“Think about it, Atria,” she urged. “This is what we need. Safety, stability, a chance to plan for something better.”

Her voice was firm, but I could feel her frustration simmering beneath the surface. She wanted this—needed this—and she was convinced it was the right move.

But I wasn’t sure. This job, this man, this place—it all felt too good to be true.

Gabriel’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Take your time,” he said, his tone calm. “But not too much. I’ll need an answer by tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

I swallowed hard, clutching the contract like it might burn me. Gabriel’s gaze remained locked on mine, unreadable but undeniably intense.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but one thing was clear: Whatever this job was, it was about far more than filling roles.