Cindy stood under the glaring lights, the final moments of her comeback shot ticking down. It was almost surreal to be back. She was so close to reclaiming her old life-just a few more shots, a couple of campaign launches, and soon she'd be walking the runway again

and getting invites to Fashion Week. Just the thought sent a giddy thrill through her.

Cindy adjusted her stance, throwing a casual smile toward the camera while the photographer barked out directions.

"Alright, Cindy, let's go for something... fierce," the photographer called out, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "Tilt your head a bit, look like you're about to devour the world."

Cindy rolled her eyes but smirked, knowing the drill all too well. "Like this?" she said, shifting her pose.

"Perfect. Yes, but more... mysterious, if you can," he replied, snapping away. "Think bold, but refined!"

"Bold but refined? Got it," she mumbled to herself with a grin, exaggerating her expression just a bit for fun. She followed his directions, though. She wasn't about to get booted off her own photoshoot, not when all this mattered so much.

"Alright, Cindy, let's try a bit more energy!" he called out, waving his arms like he was trying to flag down an airplane. "Imagine you're walking through Paris, effortless and chic!"

Cindy rolled her eyes, just barely keeping her expression neutral. Effortless and chic-as if she didn't know how to pose by now. But, smiling tightly, she lifted her chin and gave him exactly what he wanted. The last thing she needed was to annoy anyone on set and risk losing the job.

"Perfect, Cindy, just like that! Now, hands on the hips, chin down a bit, yeah? That's it!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of holding poses and changing outfits, the photographer lowered his camera with a smile. "We're done! Amazing work, Cindy."

Cindy felt a surge of relief as she stretched out her back. She waved goodbye to the team, already planning her next stop: a much-needed visit to the salon.

"Him? Telling me what to do? Doesn't he know that I was a professional model before Claire Peterson ruined my life?" Cindy said with much annoyance as she trudged down the sidewalk and hailed a cab.

She was ready to indulge in a full day of pampering a massage, manicure, pedicure, and maybe even a facial massage. She earned it.

As she arrived at the most exclusive salon in London, Cindy glanced around, hoping there'd be an open spot. This place was almost impossible to book on short notice, but she needed a win after the shoot.

As soon as she walked in, the familiar whiff of lavender and eucalyptus hit her, making her sigh in delight. A staff member at the reception smiled warmly. "Good afternoon! How can I help you?"

"Hi there," Cindy said, flashing her best smile. "I'd love to book a self-care session-massage, mani-pedi, facial, the works."

The staff member's smile faltered, and she looked at her screen with an apologetic expression. "I'm so sorry, miss, but we're completely booked today. It's been such a busy day."

Cindy frowned, leaning closer. "Could you check again? Maybe someone canceled last-minute?"

The staff nodded and tapped away, only to glance up a moment later with a regretful shake of her head. "I'm afraid there's nothing available. We're fully booked."

Cindy's eyebrows shot up. "You're telling me there isn't one single spot open? Come on-check one more time. There has to be something."

The receptionist nodded, giving Cindy a sympathetic look. "I'm really sorry. We're still fully booked."

Cindy's shoulders slumped. "Of course."

Just as she was about to leave,

another woman walked in and stood beside her. Cindy noticed the staff's demeanor shift instantly, with smiles and hushed excitement. The new arrival wore shades and handed over a sleek black card. The receptionist's eyes widened, and she quickly nodded.

"Oh, Ms. Peterson! Right this way; we have a room prepared for you."

Cindy's ears perked up, and she couldn't resist a quick glance at the woman's face. Recognition jolted through her as the stranger lowered her shades just enough for Cindy to catch a glimpse.

It was Claire Peterson.

Cindy's jaw tightened. This was the woman-the same Claire Peterson who had ruined her life and career a few months ago. She glared at the receptionist. "Wait a minute! You just told me you're fully booked. How does she get a room?" The receptionist looked uncomfortable, glancing between Cindy and Claire. "Ms. Peterson has an exclusive membership. We have a room set aside for her."

"An exclusive membership?" Cindy's tone was sharp, her disbelief plain. "What, I'm not exclusive enough? This is ridiculous!"noveldrama

Claire turned, removing her shades fully as she regarded Cindy with a cool, assessing gaze. "It's an exclusive membership," she said, her voice smooth. "The staff can't do anything about it, so I'd suggest not blaming them." Cindy's jaw clenched. "Do you remember Claire Peterson? Cindy Marshall? Or maybe not, since you seem so good at forgetting people."

Claire raised an eyebrow, unperturbed. "I meet a lot of people. Excuse me, but I have an appointment." She turned back to the receptionist. "Please, let's proceed."

Cindy was practically fuming. "What kind of card is that, anyway? How much does it even cost to get 'exclusive' treatment like this?"

Claire tilted her head slightly, a hint

of a smirk playing at her lips. She held up the black card, letting Cindy see the elegant "LSH" logo engraved in gold. "You can't buy it, Cindy Claire said coolly. "It's invitation-only. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Cindy clenched her fists, biting back a retort as Claire disappeared into the salon, the receptionist leading her to the private area that Cindy had been so desperately hoping for herself.

"Exclusive" Cindy repeated, glaring as Claire walked past her. "I bet you love feeling above everyone, don't you?"

Claire paused just long enough to glance back, her smirk still in place. "Enjoy your day, Cindy," she said lightly before disappearing down the hallway with the staff in tow.

How could Claire, the very person responsible for so much of her past misery, still have this much power to ruin her day? And to think, Claire couldn't even remember her. Cindy fumed all the way out of the salon, her mind racing.

"Unbelievable," she muttered under

her breath as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She flagged down a cab, sliding into the back seat with a huff. As the cab pulled away from the salon, Cindy stared at her phone, heart pounding. It was time to do something about this. Enough waiting, enough struggling on her own.

She found the number she'd been hesitating to call for days, her thumb hovering over it. She took a deep breath and hit the dial. The line rang once, twice, and finally connected. Settling into the back seat, she fished her phone from her bag and dialed the number she'd been avoiding. It rang twice, then three times before a gruff voice answered. "Hello?"

Cindy took a deep breath, her voice steady with determination. "I'll do anything you want." She paused, clutching the phone tightly, already feeling the weight of her choice. "Anything."