Elara's POV
‘I'm beautiful and smart… I'm priceless.’
I recited the mantra in my head over and over again. Sitting on the soft plush chair in the fully air-conditioned lobby, I was the last person in the line of ladies waiting to be interviewed.
Lately, Marco was always on the run, either sorting something out, or barking into his phone, or cussing out and drowning bottles of expensive liquors. When he left this morning with Lorenzo, while they ranted about some missing funds, I left home, not to escape, but to job hunt.
‘Make do with your magic.’
Lady Lucia's vague words came harder. I wasn't sure what she meant, but I was here anyway to find out.
“Martha,” the receptionist's voice sounded. “This way, please.”
One by one, the ladies and gentlemen that came to for the same job
