Page 6 of Venomous Desires

I hesitated.That’s it?Not even a second of consideration? I needed this job—desperately. My fingers curled tighter around my bag strap as I bit back the urge to plead. Instead, I turned on my heel and walked out, head held high despite the burning sting of rejection gnawing at my chest.

Lucky number seven, right?

The bitter cold greeted me the moment I stepped outside.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and limped toward my dorm, my breath disappearing into the icy air almost as quickly as my hopes of finding a decent job.

On the way, I stopped to get my glasses fixed and bought a spare pair of contact lenses, just in case. The extra expense stung, but so did walking into walls.

And to my horror, it started snowing. Nothing could make me prepared for this country.

By the time I reached the dorm, I was tired as fuck. I contemplated skipping dinner, but my stomach growled.

“Everything good,dorogaya?” Alina asked as I slumped into the seat beside her.

My gaze dropped to the food—a bowl of soup and a piece of bread—and my mouth twisted in distaste. “If getting rejected from six places in a row is considered good, then yeah, I’m fuckingmarvelous.”

I didn’t even feel like eating anymore. Hope had officially packed its bags and left the building. If only I’d taken Russian seriously in high school instead of assuming English would be enough.

“Told ya.” Alina smirked, stirring her coffee. “You can still consider my offer, though.”

I scoffed. “No thanks. You enjoy your shady part-time—I’m fine.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not shady,” she grinned mischievously. “It just offersmore.”

I shot her a deadpan look. “More what?”

She leaned in. “See, you just have to dress pretty, sway your hips a little, and they’ll throw money at you.”

Dress pretty and sway my hips? Sure. Because I totally had the grace of a swan and not the coordination of a drunk giraffe.

“You mean a bar dancer?” I chuckled. “No, I’m good.”

“Offer still stands, just in case.” Alina shrugged before turning back to her friends, disappearing into a rapid stream of Russian.

I poked at my soup, contemplating every poor decision thathad led me here.

Someone slid onto the bench beside me. A girl with oversized round glasses tucked a newspaper under her arm as she reached for her coffee.

My eyes caught something on the front page.

Employee needed.

My spoon nearly went flying as I lunged for the newspaper, my heart hammering against my ribs. The girl shot me a murderous glare, but I couldn’t care less. With shaking hands, I shoved the paper at Alina, practically vibrating with perseverance.

“Translate this.Now.”

Alina blinked at me, startled, then skimmed the ad. Her expression went from mildly intrigued to utterlyshocked.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “They’re hiring a caretaker... and it offers—fuck!”

I grabbed her arm. “Fuckwhat?”

Her wide eyes snapped to mine. “Ten… Thousand. Dollars.”

I swear, my soul left my body for a second.

Ten thousand dollars?