Jenna had just stepped out of the private room when Stella yanked her into a corner of the hallway.

"Well? Did you sell that $26,000 bottle of wine?" Stella whispered, her eyes gleaming.

Last night, Jenna had served the VIPs in Room 888. That single table alone had earned her over $5,000 in commission.

Jenna shook her head. "They didn't want it. Just ordered their usual."

"Oh my god!" Stella gasped. "Still, those drinks alone must've made you half a month's salary!"

Jenna gave a small smile. "That wine's too expensive. Most people wouldn't order it."

"Tell me about it," Stella huffed. "I've been pitching it all night, but no takers."

Suddenly, Patrick appeared at the end of the hallway, striding toward them.

"Finished up, Jenna?"

"Yeah. They didn't ask me to toast with them. Just let me leave."

Patrick rubbed his hands together, barely containing his eagerness. "Did you sell any of the new labels?"

Those clients in Room 888 were clearly loaded. Especially the leader—his wristwatch looked straight out of a luxury magazine, worth seven figures.

Jenna lowered her lashes. "I'm sorry, Patrick. I couldn't close the sale."

Patrick's smile froze, then quickly morphed into a strained one.

"No worries. You're new. It takes time."

He patted her shoulder. "Head to Room 402. Tony's crew just arrived, and we're short-staffed."

"Got it." Jenna nodded at Stella. "I'll go ahead."

Stella opened her mouth, then closed it, her brow furrowed.

Once Jenna was out of earshot, Stella grabbed Patrick's arm.

"Patrick, you know what Tony's like! Jenna's only been here a few days!"

Tony had a notorious reputation. Every visit ended in some kind of trouble. No one at the club wanted to deal with him.

Patrick's expression hardened. "If she works here, she handles all types of clients. That's the rule."

"But she's got a temper. What if—"

Tony always brought a dozen lackeys. If Jenna resisted, things could turn ugly.

"Work is work." Patrick waved her off impatiently. "If there's trouble, the boss will handle it. Now get back to work."

Biting her lip, Stella discreetly sent Tristan a text.

...

Jenna stood outside Room 402, took a deep breath, and knocked.

The door swung open, releasing a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. In the dim light, a dozen young men lounged, puffing away.