The nervousness in your stomach was a familiar sensation as you gazed at yourself in the mirror. Soon, you would sing again—again and again—as you always did. After all, you were the little star of the Alhambra Music Hall, none other than Maxwell Roth's prized singing bird. You examined your reflection, cleaning your throat, with the staff bustling around you. One attendant stood behind you, vigorously brushing your hair so it cascaded perfectly, albeit almost scraping your scalp with each stroke. The red lipstick seemed too red, the dress too extravagant. Maxwell was one thing, but you were the one bringing him money, even though you knew all too well of his dubious dealings. He was too preoccupied to consider whose side you were really on.

As you turned away from the mirror, a sudden silence enveloped the room, despite knowing you had an hour left to prepare. Still, the routine changes unnerved you. The laces of your corset were suddenly tugged down harshly, squeezing your breasts and stomach too tightly before being released. Glancing over your shoulder, you shot Jacob a harsh look, silently warning him to be careful. It was no surprise that he had suddenly taken over assisting with your clothes—he always had a way of sneaking around. He smirked back at you, his hands working more gently now as he began to adjust the corset behind you.

You glanced back at the mirror, meeting Jacob's eyes in the reflection "Maxwell is up to something," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rustle of fabric. "He's my next target. I'm here to warn you. You need to be safe."

"You know what he's involved in. It's time," he replied, his hands still working on your corset. "Stay alert. I'll make sure it's accurate."

As Jacob completed the final adjustments to your corset, he leaned in closer, his touch softening. His lips grazed your shoulder in a gentle kiss, and for a moment, the gravity of the situation faded as you felt the weight of his unspoken desire.

"First things first," he whispered, his voice a mere breath.