Chained By The Alpha Jessica Hall

The mouse 1s back, tugging at the noodles' packet in the trash bin. My initial instinct is to kill it just another problem to solve. But as I watch the tiny creature struggle, something shifts inside me. It's just hungry, like I am, trying to survive in a world that hasn't been kind. With a soft sigh, I scoop up the noodle packet and put it on the floor for it

The mouse hesitates only a moment before seizing the packet and scurrying off with what should have been my dinner/breakfast. I watch it disappear into the darkness, a part of me wishing for the same simple escape. Leaving the kitchen, I head back to try to get some sleep before I have to be back at work

Closing the double doors into the living room, I lean against it, a wave of sadness washing over me. I'm as alone as that mouse, scrabbling for scraps to make it through another day. With a heavy heart, I head back to bed. As I lie back down, I can't help but think about how my life has come to this point. Every day feels like an uphill battle with no end in sight

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The rays of the afternoon sun filter through the grimy windows, casting long, dusty beams across the cold marble floor of my mansion. I squint against the light, my eyes taking a moment to adjust after the deep, unsettled sleep that left me more exhausted than rested. The house is silent, eerily so, as if it's holding its breath, waiting for something or someone-to break the stillness

I roll out of bed, my limbs heavy, my mind already dreading the evening ahead. As I make my way to the bathroom, a small, scurrying sound catches my attention. The mouse 1s back, nosing around the empty bin where I had left the noodles packet. Poor thing looks as disappointed as I feel; its food source vanished overnight. He must have thought it was a never-ending noodle packet

With a sigh, I shoo it away gently with my foot

"Finders, keepers," I mutter, though there's nothing left to keep. The mouse gives me a resigned glance before disappearing into a crack in the wall

In the bathroom, the mirror reflects a tired, hollow-eyed version of myself. I splash cold water on my face, trying to wash away the weariness and brace myself for the night ahead

My hands shake slightly as I reach for my

makeup kit. I lay out the array of products

Foundation to cover the dark circles under my eyes, eyeshadow to brighten my gaze, and a bold lipstick to give the illusion of the confidence I never feel. Each stroke of the brush feels like a betrayal to the girl who once dreamed of a different life-a life where beauty meant more than just allure and deception. The weight of maintaining this facade, day after day, is suffocating. Each layer of makeup feels like another brick in the wall that separates me from my true self, trapping me in a prison of my own making. As I finish applying the last touch of mascara, I can't help but wonder how much longer I can keep up this charade before it all comes crashing down

I walk back to the bedroom, opening my duffle bag where I keep my lingerie, well, all my clothes actually, since I don't even have a

dresser. I select a delicate black lace set that cost me a fortune; Trevor picked it out when I first started, but didn't tell me he was docking my pay for it. But the intricate patterns are a stark contrast to the simplicity of my tired soul

Slipping into the lingerie, I feel its cool touch against my skin, a reminder of the persona I must embody tonight. Next, I choose a pair of crimson heels, their sharp points and high arches giving me the height and presence I lack

As I step into them, the familiar click-clack on the marble floor echoes through the empty house. Finally, I pull on a sleek, elegant dress that hugs my curves but leaves little to the imagination. The dress 1s one of Lydia's hand-me-downs. I can't stand the wench, but she has always given me her hand-me-down clothes. I drape a long, black coat over my shoulders

The mask is the final touch, a delicate, lace half- mask that covers the top half of my face, leaving

my mouth and chin exposed. This one 1s slightly sheer, though it covers most of my features and with the makeup and hair, I am still unrecognizable. I slip it into my coat pocket and grab my bag

As I prepare to leave, my heart sinks just a bit

Tonight, I'm not just dancing; I'm meeting private clients upstairsOriginal content from NôvelDrama.Org.