Chapter 5: The art of deception

The morning after my first night in the lounge, I woke to the sound of rain tapping against the window. The room I had been given was larger than anything I had ever slept in before, with dark wooden floors and silk sheets that felt like water against my skin. But luxury didn't erase years of suffering. I still felt like an outsider in my own life, an imposter wearing someone else's skin.

A knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Come in," I said, sitting up.

"Did you sleep?" she asked.

I hesitated before nodding. "A little."

She smirked, clearly not believing me. "Get up. Today, your training begins."

I pulled the blanket around my shoulders. "Training for what?"

Selene tilted her head. "For survival, Winnie. You want power? You need to earn it."

I exhaled slowly, then forced myself out of bed.

Selene gestured toward the tray. "Eat first. You'll need the energy."

I hesitated before picking up a slice of fruit, chewing slowly. My body had long since learned to survive on scraps, so the taste of something fresh, something sweet, felt foreign.

Selene watched me in silence for a moment before speaking again.

"There are two types of people in this world," she said. "Those who are controlled and those who do the controlling. Which one do you want to be?"

I swallowed hard. "The second."

"Good." She pushed away from the wall and crossed the room, her heels clicking against the floor. "Then let's get started."

Selene led me through the corridors of the building, past rooms I had yet to explore.

We stopped in front of a large door. She pushed it open and gestured for me to enter.

Inside, the walls were lined with mirrors. A long table sat in the center of the room, covered with jewelry, silk gloves, cigarettes in elegant holders, and other accessories I didn't recognize.

Selene walked to the table and picked up a pearl necklace, running her fingers over it. "What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

I turned my gaze to my own reflection. My skin was pale, my eyes sunken from years of exhaustion. The red dress I had worn the night before still clung to my body, but I no longer felt like the girl who had stepped into it.

"I don't know," I admitted.

Selene set the necklace down and met my eyes in the mirror. "I see potential."

She sighed. "Sit down."

I obeyed, taking a seat in front of the mirror. Selene picked up a tube of lipstick and twisted it open, revealing a deep shade of crimson.

"Lipstick is more than just makeup," she said, leaning down to apply it to my lips. "It's a weapon. A signal. A declaration."

I remained still as she painted my lips, the color standing out starkly against my skin.

She stepped back. "There. Now look at yourself."

I did. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't see a broken girl. I saw something else—someone else.

A woman who was learning how to play the game.

The next few days blurred together in a whirlwind of lessons. Selene taught me how to walk, how to carry myself, how to speak in a way that made people listen.

"It's not about what you say," she explained. "It's about how you say it."

She drilled me on body language, on the subtle cues that revealed more than words ever could. She taught me how to read people, how to spot weaknesses, how to slip into a conversation and turn it in my favor without them even realizing it.

"This world is about power," she said one evening, as we sat in the lounge watching the men and women interact. "And power isn't given. It's taken."

I absorbed everything she said, storing it away like a weapon I would one day use.

But beneath it all, a question lingered.

Why me?

Why had Damien brought me here? Why had Selene chosen to train me? What did they want in return?

I knew better than to believe in kindness without cost.

One evening, Damien summoned me to his office.

The space was darker than the rest of the building, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and something richer—like old books and leather.

He sat behind a large desk, his expression unreadable.

"Sit," he said.

I did.

He poured a glass of whiskey and slid it across the desk toward me. I didn't touch it.

"You've been learning quickly," he said, watching me.

I nodded. "Selene is a good teacher."

A smirk touched his lips. "She is."

There was a pause.

Then, finally, he leaned forward. "Do you know why you're here, Winnie?"

I swallowed. "Because you brought me here."

"That's not an answer."

I hesitated before speaking. "I don't know."

Damien studied me for a long moment before exhaling. "You remind me of someone."

That caught me off guard.

"Who?"

His jaw tightened slightly. "Someone I lost."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes before it disappeared.

I didn't know what to say.

He picked up his glass and took a slow sip of whiskey. "I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in opportunity. You've been given one. Don't waste it."

His words were a warning. A reminder that whatever protection I had here wasn't free.

I straightened my posture. "I won't."

He studied me for a moment before nodding. "Good."

Then, just like that, the conversation was over.

I left his office with more questions than answers.

But one thing was becoming clear—whatever game I had been pulled into, I wasn't just a player.

I was a piece on the board.

And I needed to figure out who was moving me before it was too late.