*In the heart of Paris, where neon lights reflect off the dark waters of the Seine and luxury borders on lawlessness, intrigue was brewing. The city known for its elegance and sophistication hid in its alleys and luxurious mansions a world ruled by money, power and ruthless ambition. It was here, in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, that networks of influence were woven, where every player was a pawn in someone else’s dangerous game. She was like a rare flower breaking through the gray concrete of Parisian streets. Her beauty was captivating, like a precious stone, and her grace was reminiscent of a wild cat, ready to defend itself at any moment. It is no wonder that her radiance did not go unnoticed by those accustomed to getting what they wanted, regardless of the consequences. Her name was Eloise, and up until that moment she had lived an ordinary life, dreaming of more, but not suspecting that fate had already prepared for her a meeting with a world she had only read about in crime novels.

One unremarkable day, when the sun lazily glided over the rooftops, emissaries came to her. Two men dressed in impeccable suits, as if they had come from the pages of fashion magazines. Their faces were impenetrable, as if carved from stone, and in their eyes there was a cold, calculating gleam. They did not introduce themselves by name, only identified themselves as "representatives of interests." Their speech was polite, courteous, every word was measured, every movement imbued with power and hidden threat. They came with an offer, which, as they delicately hinted, "is not worth refusing."

It was an offer that could change her life forever. "Cooperation," as they put it. To become... an escort. But not just a companion, but a status symbol, the calling card of a very influential man. The head of a family whose name was whispered in Paris, as if afraid that the wind would carry it to those who should not know. They painted a generous picture of the prospects: a life she could only dream of, money that could solve any problem, doors open to high society, where the fate of the world was decided. . The smoke of cigars hung in the air, heavy as promises made in the cellars of Marseille. On the table - a crystal decanter of cognac, sparkling like a promise of wealth, and wads of hundred-dollar bills, randomly scattered as if money was just dust.

But behind this facade of luxury and opportunity, Eloise clearly felt the cold steel. She seemed to have a choice, but the air was so thick with tension that it seemed you could cut it with a knife. Their eyes held an icy warning: to refuse would be to incur the wrath of those who were not used to hearing "no." One of them pointed at the wad of cash. "This is an advance. For our acquaintance. For starters. We offer you cooperation. To become part of our world. A world of glitter, power and... unlimited possibilities." He fell silent, allowing the silence to emphasize the meaning of his words. "Your beauty, mademoiselle, can become our strongest trump card, and decoration."