A Rebirth

A Reunion?

Melinda’s hands were ice-cold.

She hadn’t slept. Even after her shift ended, exhaustion hadn’t been enough to quiet the storm in her mind. She had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing, trying to convince herself that she could do this.

But no matter how many times she told herself she was strong enough, her body betrayed her.

Her hands shook. Her stomach churned. Her skin crawled at the thought of stepping into his office.

Ethan Brooks.

She had spent years trying to erase him from her memory. Trying to convince herself that what happened back then hadn’t defined her. That she was more than the girl he had broken.

And yet, after everything, she was right back where she swore she’d never be—trapped in his world, under his control.

She wanted to run.

But she couldn’t.

She had nowhere to go.

The Office

The club was empty during the day. Its usual chaos reduced to a hollow silence. Every step down the dim hallway felt like a countdown to something inevitable.

When she reached the door, she hesitated.

A deep breath.

A clenched fist.

Then, she knocked.

"Come in."

His voice hadn’t changed. It still held that same smooth arrogance, the same casual authority that made her stomach turn.

Melinda pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The office was sleek—dark wood, leather furniture, and an expensive bar cart in the corner. Behind the desk, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, casting long shadows across the room.

Ethan was leaning against the desk, sleeves rolled up, smirking like he’d been waiting for this moment.

"Right on time," he said. "I have to admit, I wasn’t sure you’d show."

Melinda forced herself to stand tall. She wouldn’t let him see the fear clawing at her insides.

"Let’s just get this over with."

Ethan chuckled, pushing off the desk and moving to his chair. "Take a seat, Mel."

She flinched.

It had been years since anyone called her that. Since he called her that.

She wanted to tell him to go to hell. To walk out and never look back. But where would she go? Back to the streets? Back to starving?

No. She had to stay.

She sat.

Ethan folded his hands together, studying her. "So… you need a job."

She didn’t answer. He already knew that.

"You know," he continued, his tone light, almost amused, "if you’d told me back then that you’d end up here, I wouldn’t have believed it. You always acted like you were too good for this place. For people like me."

Melinda’s nails dug into her palms. "People like you?"

His smirk deepened. "People who take what they want."

Her stomach lurched. She forced herself to stay still. To keep breathing.

She would not give him the reaction he wanted.

"Why am I here, Ethan?" she asked, her voice sharp. "I already got the job. What’s this really about?"

He tilted his head like he was enjoying a private joke. "Because I like to know who’s working for me. And because I think you can do more than pour drinks."

Her chest tightened. "I’m not interested in anything else."

Ethan chuckled. "Relax. I’m not asking you to do anything… extra. I need someone I can trust. Someone who can handle business when I’m not around."

She let out a cold laugh. "You think I’d ever trust you?"

He grinned, unfazed. "I think you don’t have much of a choice."

Her nails dug deeper into her skin.

He was right. And he knew it.

"Let’s make this simple," he continued. "You work for me. Directly under me. You keep things running, make sure the money flows, and in return, you get protection. Stability. A fresh start."

Melinda stared at him.

A fresh start? From him?

Ethan leaned forward, his voice dropping just slightly. "And, Mel… if you’re worried about the past—don’t be. That was a long time ago."

Her throat closed.

The past.

It was just some minor thing. Like it wasn’t something that had destroyed her.

She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to make him hurt the way he had hurt her.

But she couldn’t.

Because he still held all the power.

She swallowed hard. Forced the shaking out of her voice.

"You can call it whatever you want," she said, her words slow and deliberate. "But I won’t forget."

Something flickered in Ethan’s expression. Amusement? Annoyance? It was gone before she could place it.

Then he leaned back, looking satisfied.

"Good," he said. "I’d hate for this to be boring."

She wanted to slam her fists on the desk. She wanted to walk out and never see his face again.

But she couldn’t.

So, instead, she did the only thing she could.

She nodded.

"I’ll take the job."

Ethan smiled. "Welcome to my world, Melinda."

And just like that, she had sold her soul to the devil.