3. Elena

I'mnervous as the bouncer, Roger, grabs my bags and leads me downstairs to the employee's apartments. He has to put in a code to the large framed door.

"Members are absolutely not, under any circumstances, permitted in the apartments. This door is coded, and then your private room has a private lock as well," Roger says, holding the door open for me.

"If for any reason you'd like to spend time with a member off the clock, you can use a room in the club, or go anywhere off premise that you please. This area is strictly for Omega use only as well as limited staff."

The halls are quiet, and he leads me to a door with a shiny silver number three on it.

"This is your room. It's private, but there is a shared bathroom. You'll be sharing with Jade," he tells me.

When I walk in, I appreciate the complete upgrade from what I rented from the Luxor, not to mention how much safer it is. I don't have to leave this place if I don't want to. It's the first time since I left home that I truly feel safe and, honestly, accomplished. My proudest moment before this was my certification. I sigh, wondering if Dr. Conti is going to miss me. But getting the job, finding safety, I did this all completely on my own.

Even if I'm sequestered, it's still better than the plans Anthony had for me. But this feels wholly different, mostly because it's my decision. All I ever truly wanted was a choice. Maybe if Anthony came to me, telling me the expectation of finding a pack, and I went on a few dates everything could have been different. Instead, he was going to treat me like a bargaining chip, and I just couldn't stomach it.

"Thank you, Roger," I tell him politely as he sets my belongings on the dresser.

"Sure thing, hun. If you need anything else, just let me know. I'm sure you'll meet Jade as soon as her shift is over. Leisha will come by tomorrow evening to give you a rundown and help you with training. There's a small kitchen down the hall. If you want to cook anything, just mark your food and don't eat anyone else's unless you want a fight on your hands."

Why didn't I fucking think about food?

"If you want anything delivered, just put your name and the item on the list on the fridge, and I'll make sure it gets down here."

"Thank you, again," I repeat with a nod.

I wonder about the large, overprotective man. Does he have a pack of his own? Do they not have an issue with him working here? Or is he simply just a nice older gentleman who enjoys caring for others?

Roger places my room key and onboarding packet on top of the dresser next to my belongings before he leaves.

The room is small, but clean and riddled with soft luxury. The queen sized bed is pressed against an all black wall with two nightstands on each side. There's a modern black dresser and desk on one side, as well as a small closet, and the door to the bathroom on the opposite.

The bathroom is a Jack and Jill; the door locking with the same key as my front door. I'm happy to see that whoever I share a bathroom with seems clean and tidy—small blessings.

The prepaid phone isn't the same generation as the one I tossed into my bathtub at home, but it at least has Wi-Fi, and I'm able to download apps; the first being a food delivery service, so I don't have to leave. The less I'm on the strip or anywhere downtown the better. Maybe after enough time, Anthony will stop looking for me, and I can restart my life somewhere.

I pull out one of the many gift cards I bought with cash and enter the number when I place my food order. I'm going to sincerely miss my meals from back home, but part of me gets a little joy out of how self-sufficient I'm being. Everything in my life has been pretty easy up until this point; there's some comfort in knowing that I'm resilient.

This is my first job, my first apartment, and I did it all on my own.

I'm sure Anthony would have never imagined that I could be this capable. I wonder if he misses me? I highly doubt it. If anything, he's just pissed off that I ran away and can't be used in his schemes.

There will be people who do miss me, though, at least I hope. Logan may not have cared about me in the same way I did him, but I hope that he'll miss me. At the very least, our chef, Lisa, will notice that I'm gone. It's a sobering feeling knowing that the only person who truly loved me is dead. I feel like my pàpa would be proud of me right now. He always believed in me, always loved me for who I was.

He probably wouldn't be thrilled that I was working here; no, he would definitely drag me home by my hair. Although there would be a part of him that saw my strength and defiance, traits I got from him.

I shove down the sadness as I prepare my room, wait for my food, and read the onboarding packet front to back multiple times.

There's a red dress hanging outside of my door when I wake up in the morning, and I assume that it's my uniform for tonight. I still haven't run into any of the other Omegas—not even the one I share a bathroom with—and I'm getting nervous. I haven't spent much time around other Omegas, is it catty? Or is it hard to build friendships here?

Despite my nerves on my upcoming training for today and how I'm going to be received here, I still manage to eat something before I get changed.

I already made sure everything was shaved and pristine, and I take extra care in my makeup and hair before putting on the dress. When I look in the full-length mirror behind my door, I don't see the same Elena Amante I was before. The Omega looking back at me is a new person, and I don't hate her.

She's confident, sexy, and fun.

All the things I've wanted to be but was never allowed. I was a Don's daughter, a supposed classy virgin.

Well, look at me now.

The dress is a deep red satin that shows a lot of chest and leg. Far more scandalous than anything I've ever worn in public, and I find that I quite like it. It's never too late to reinvent yourself, right?

I'll always be who I am to a certain degree. I'll always care too much, always fight for what I believe in, and love people too hard. But as I look in the mirror, I feel like I can be more, I can be powerful.

I was raised by a powerful man; I watched how he carried himself. He's a part of me, and behind these walls, I plan to be the strongest version of myself. Even if the High Roller is a pit stop to get money and figure out my next step, maybe it can also be one of the best experiences of my life. Maybe this place can help me figure out who I am beyond my designation and the family I was born into.

I can be anyone I want here at the High Roller, and something about that is extremely comforting.

There's a knock at my door, and I swallow down my nerves before answering it. I'm greeted by a tall, stunning, dirty blonde Omega. She's wearing a tight-fitted black dress that shows off her abundantly full breasts and hourglass figure.

She gives me a smile and laughs.

"You must be Elena? You're cute, I'm Leisha," she says.

"Hi. Nice to meet you," I say softly as she leads me down the hallway and unlocks the main door. We walk up the stairs to the main club floor.

"Private rooms are upstairs near Travis' office. We can check those out later. Tonight, you can just shadow me to get a feel of the club. I'm assuming you read all the rules?"

I nod my head, and she smiles.

She is absolutely someone who should be working here. Confidence rolls off of her like a fucking wave. It almost makes all that upbeat self-talk fade away.

No, I won't compare myself to her. The whole point of this place is that all the Omegas who work here are unique and offer something different.

"So you know that no one can touch you without your say so. That's the biggest rule. Never feel pressured to do anything you don't want to. The members here pay for admittance, nothing else is guaranteed. What you want to engage in is always up to you. Do you understand?"

"I understand," I reply, and she nods, walking us down the long black hallway with warm lighting gleaming from the floor and ceiling. It feels sexy and ominous at the same time.

When we finally get to the main part of the club, my jaw drops. It's not what I imagined—truly, I'm not sure what I pictured—but sensual, luxurious opulence wasn't it.

The club is dark, yet there's enough rich lighting in sconces, chandeliers, and on the floor so that it doesn't feel seedy or criminal. It hasn't opened yet, so there's only a few staff members milling about.

"The members pay a shit ton of money to have the best the strip offers," Leisha continues to explain.

I wonder if she means the Omegas or just everything about the club.

"Now, the club is open every day, but the hours are specific. Seven PM to two AM are the operating hours. You'll, of course, have your days off, and if you're having a bad day or anything like that, it's your choice whether to work or not. I won't lie, I love coming in and letting one of the guys pay me to just cuddle me when I feel like I'm being ripped apart," she admits as we walk to the left, heading over to a large stage.

"You don't live in the apartments?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "Hell no, I've made more than enough money to completely pay off my mortgage. I live happily and peacefully alone. Don't get me wrong, I love Alphas, Betas, men, and women. But do I want them in my personal space all the time, fuck no. I come here, work, get what I need, and live my life problem free," she says dreamily.

I'm speechless. I've never heard an Omega speak that way. But something about the way she talks about her independence appeals to me. She's strong, she has to be in her late twenties if not her early thirties, and she loves her life.

Maybe that could be me.

"Do you dance?" she asks, pointing to the stage. I grimace and shake my head. She laughs and waves me off. "Trust me, there are plenty of girls here that thrive on the stage. That doesn't have to be you. Though I'm sure some patrons would love to watch you try."

She walks me up a set of black bottom-lit stairs. It overlooks the stage, and there's a large bar with small tables and stools so people can view the dancers from above.

A pretty Omega with dark brown hair and a serious edge to her slides behind the bar.

"That's Glade, she's the bartender. We have certain girls who handle drink orders, but if you ever need one, just come up here and tell Glade what you need and whose tab to put it on."

Glade is handling a big-ass thing of ice, pouring it into the chest before she notices us and smiles at me.

"It can be hard to remember everyone at first, but I've been here long enough that if you give me a description, I'll probably know who it is."

"Good to know," I tell her with a nod.

"Club's opening soon, let me show you the last bits before everyone comes rolling in," Leisha says, and I follow her back down the stairs. Our heels click against the marble as she leads me to the other side of the club that functions as a casino. I immediately notice there are no slot machines, and it's table games only. That's probably best when it comes to my paycheck. Those flashing lights get me every damn time.

"Hanging around the casino is the best bet as you get settled in. You can just talk and hang out with members. There's less pressure on this side of the club," she informs me.

A few of the dealers, notably all pretty female Betas, start setting up their tables and checking their setups for the night.

"Some of the members just come here to gamble and don't do much else. Others are solely here for the Omegas. You'll quickly learn who is who. Clientele is screened heavily, so you don't have to worry about members being seedy or cheap at the High Roller."

"That's a relief," I admit, looking around, feeling slightly out of my depths.

"Well, it's about opening time. Remember, you're here to watch today, there's no pressure. If this isn't for you, that's okay, and we take this as slow as you need to."

She takes me over to an expensive-looking leather sofa, and we both sit with our legs crossed, waiting.

I watch in amazement as pretty Omegas flood the floor, taking up stations in different areas.

"How much do you usually make a night?" I whisper over to her.

I know what the base salary is, which is decent, but it's not pay-off-your-mortgage kind of money.

"Well, considering I'm down for nearly anything. My income differs from most of the Omegas here," she explains.

Maybe talking about your income is rude. I chastise myself internally, but Leisha just pats my knee.

"Let's just say I was able to pay off my home in The Ridges in under a year," she says quietly.

I whistle internally. It might not be The Summit Club, where I grew up, but The Ridges isn't cheap. It's impressive that she is able to not only live debt free, but that she only depends on herself to do so. I haven't had many female role models in my life, and this woman is sliding herself in the number one spot.

"You're quite amazing, you know," I tell her.

"I know," she responds with a wink.

Patrons start entering the club, and my nerves pick up, my stomach feeling hollow. Leisha has a bright smile on her face. She doesn't even have to stand or move, she just knows that they'll come to her.

"Are most of the members Alphas?" I whisper to her.

"The majority are, but there are some affluent Betas who want the best, along with some Betas who come with their pack."

My brows furrow.

"How common are packs here?"

"More common than you think. I think a majority of them have this idea that they can sweep one of us off of our feet and give us the world. Pfft, like we can't do that ourselves."

It's official. I'm obsessed with this Omega, and I want nothing more than to be a fraction of how amazing she is. She's the blueprint for confident, take no shit, self-made Omegas, and I want that.

Another confident Omega stands in the corner. She's pretty, with shorter, wavy hair, but she's dressed differently than the other Omegas on the floor. I tilt my head in her direction, she seems intently focused on something going on in the casino.

"Who's that?" I ask Leisha.

"Annika, she doesn't take on any clients, she makes sure no one is stealing from the casino," Leisha says.

"Stealing?"

"Counting cards, and other things. She keeps to herself, but she's sweet," Leisha says with a shrug.

I'm absolutely in awe of all the Omegas who work here and I wonder how I'm going to measure up.

A man in his late forties to early fifties approaches Leisha, and she gives him a soft smile.

"You're looking lovely tonight, darling," his voice nearly purrs. He's handsome and screams money. His suit is clearly Tom Ford or Kiton; it's hard to tell in the light. But I can spot a good suit from a mile away.

"It's been a while, Alessandro," she greets back.

The name sends warning bells off in my head, but I try to not let the panic show. So, he has an Italian name? That doesn't mean anything.

"I had business in Italy. I brought you back something." He smiles, pulling out the red box with gold script, and I immediately know it's Cartier. She seriously has club members who bring her back jewelry from Italy?

"Open it," she tells him, and he smirks.

Maybe I'm in love with Leisha. No, it's just her confidence.

Alessandro opens the packaging for her, showcasing the stunning yet simple necklace. It's 18K rose gold with an onyx semi-circle at the end and a diamond in the center. Without a closer look, I couldn't tell you the quality, but knowing Cartier, it has to be expensive.

"How thoughtful. Would you like to put it on me?" she asks, and the Alpha nods. Leisha stands as the Alpha takes her hair into a fist, handing it to her so he can place the necklace on her. It goes with her dress beautifully.

"Almost as lovely as you, piccola."

Oh man, this guy has it fucking bad.

"I don't know, Alessandro, it's been nearly two weeks. I might just have to make you work for it."

"Perhaps some spending money at the craps table for you tonight?" he questions. He hardly even glances in my direction, Leisha being his only focus.

"It's a good start," she agrees sweetly. She glances back at me and then to Alessandro. "This is Elena. She's new and will be observing."

His eyes light up. "Everything?" he asks eagerly.

"You just made me double my nightly price with that comment, cucciolotto," she snarks back.

Holy fucking shit. Does she top him? God, I hope she does. Most of my nerves ease just by my pure fascination with their dynamic.

"Elena, come," Leisha beckons me, and I suddenly feel like I'm the puppy she was talking about as I follow them to the craps table.

Alessandro has his hands on Leisha, nothing inappropriate, just in ways you would expect from a partner, and I wonder how much money he has spent on her since he started coming here. Is this relationship good for him, too? Do they have any feelings for each other after all this time?

It makes my head hurt. Instead I just stop thinking about it and try to pay attention to the game and my surroundings.

Women sit on men's laps while they play poker, others are serving drinks and flirting. I wish I could see the stage to see who is dancing, but the club is lively and intimate. I had fears that this would feel transactional or forced, but almost everyone here seems to be genuinely having a good time.

Leisha leans down and whispers. "Remember, no one does anything they don't want to. It's a give and a take. We're the ones in control here, contrary to what anyone else may believe."

Her words follow me the rest of the evening as I observe the night's festivities.

I think I can do this.