Mira
I stood in front of the mirror in the hallway, carefully inspecting my reflection. Everything seemed perfect, just as all those online articles suggest, the ones that start with: “To ace your job interview, you must…”
I grabbed my purse from the ottoman and headed for the door, but then I felt something was off.
I glanced down—and saw that the strap on my right shoe had snapped, now dragging behind me on the floor. I stared at the mess in dismay. Why, oh why, does something always go wrong with me?
And just yesterday, who talked me into that crazy stunt? I couldn’t help but close my eyes, and there it was, as vivid as if it were happening now—a man in a mask… The way he looked at me, and then pressed his lips to mine…
The strap must have taken a hit yesterday in that strange place. I’d stumbled a few times and nearly fallen. And today, it just “couldn’t handle the bad luck” any longer...
There was no time to take the shoes for repair. I had only an hour until the interview, and I still needed to get to the other side of the city. Plus, the woman I’d spoken to on the phone had warned me not to be late under any circumstances.
“The boss values punctuality above all else,” she’d said, or something to that effect.
I sighed and kicked off the shoes. I peeked into the shoe cabinet, though I already knew I didn’t have anything else in a business style. I’ve always preferred casual wear, so the cabinet was full of sneakers, trainers, sandals… My eyes caught a lone shoe made of some odd material, almost like silicone, but it shimmered like glass. I grimaced instinctively.
Well, I’ll just wear sneakers, what else can I do… If anyone asks, I’ll say it’s the latest office fashion trend…
***
Sitting in the taxi, I was so nervous that I kept turning my head this way and that, until the driver asked if everything was okay.
“I’m just heading to a job interview, and I’m worried there’ll be traffic or an accident,” I told him. “I’m always so unlucky…”
“Sometimes what we think is bad luck turns out to be a blessing in disguise,” he said in a philosophical tone. “Don’t worry, you’ll make it on time, I guarantee it. You’ve got until ten, right?”
“Yes,” I replied. “And the boss is a stickler for punctuality, so please get me there a bit early… I’d rather wait there than be late…”
“No problem, I’ll do my best,” the driver said cheerfully, pulling into the bus lane.
We managed to bypass the traffic jam and, within ten minutes, I was standing in front of a towering office building.
Stepping inside, I walked somewhat hesitantly toward the elevator. I think I’m supposed to go to the top floor? A good-looking young man joined me in the elevator and flashed me a smile.
“Which floor are you heading to?” he asked.
“The top one, I’m going to ‘Home, Sweet Home,’” I smiled back.
“Oh, you’re new? I work for Roman Stetsenko too,” he said enthusiastically. “His company is the best in the industry, growing the fastest, and he’s the kindest boss you could ask for!”
“I haven’t met him yet,” I replied. “I’m here for an interview. But you’ve put me a bit more at ease…”
“He only hates tardiness,” the guy added. “By the way, I’m Max. I work in sales.”
Just as he said that, the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mira,” I said as I stepped out. “Well, actually, it’s Miroslava…”
“Hope we’ll be colleagues soon,” he winked. “The boss’s office is at the end of the hallway,” he added, pointing down a pristine white corridor.
The walls were blindingly white, the design minimalist yet incredibly stylish. There were flowers, plenty of windows, and open space everywhere.
I liked everything about this place, and I could already picture myself working here… And more than that, I imagined achieving what I’d hoped for from this new job… It was so important to me, something that could completely change my life.
I approached the door with a plaque reading “CEO” and knocked. At that very moment, the door swung open, and a girl with a sour expression stormed out. She slammed the door behind her, only then noticing that she’d nearly knocked me over.
“And who are you?” she asked rudely, scowling.
“I’m here for an interview at ten,” I answered.
“Well, then you’d better go in now. He can’t stand people who break his rules,” she sneered, brushing past me as she walked off.
I watched her go, then turned the doorknob. I found myself in a small, cozy reception area, but it was empty. Straight ahead was another door, likely leading to the CEO’s office. I walked over and knocked again.
“Ira, if you’re trying to pretend you didn’t just throw that tantrum, don’t even bother,” I heard a stern male voice say. “I’ve moved you to sales. You’re done sitting in reception—you’ve gotten too full of yourself. Flattery won’t help you now.”
“Good morning,” I said, cracking the door open and peering at the man sitting behind the desk. “I’m here for the interview…”
But the words caught in my throat, and all I could do was blink in shock because I recognized him. No, I didn’t know his face. But the sharp line of his jaw and the mole near the right corner of his lips—I’d had plenty of time to notice those… For a moment, I considered turning around and bolting out of the office, but for some reason, I just stood there in the doorway, staring at him.
“Hold it right there, little mouse,” I heard his commanding tone. “I recognize you… Come in. Let’s talk…”
***
Three Days Earlier
I stepped out of the taxi and looked around. At the given coordinates stood an elegant three-story mansion, surrounded by a transparent wrought-iron fence and guarded at the entrance. I almost thought I’d gotten the wrong address, that this was some private estate, but then I noticed a few people approaching the gate, dressed like me in evening wear.
They said something to the guard, who then opened the metal gate for them, and they headed toward the mansion.
I stopped in my tracks, my hand instinctively reaching for my phone. I opened the Telegram bot where, just a few hours earlier, I’d received an invitation to a mysterious quest, and reread the message:
"Our terms: weekly meetings, quests at every event. The winner of each meeting gets a cash prize. The monthly winner receives an additional large cash bonus. For women, the first month is free—win without investing! If you’re interested in the game, send a message to our bot by Friday at 7 p.m.!"
I’d typed “yes” at 6:30 and received a new reply:
"You have an hour and a half until the round starts. Arrive at the location by 8 p.m., dress code: evening gown and heels, password at the entrance: masquerade."
It was now ten minutes to eight. I stood in front of this unfamiliar house in a black evening gown and high heels, feeling a bit foolish. It was all because of my love for adventure and thrill-seeking, which had gotten me into trouble more times than I could count…
“Miss, are you coming in?” I turned my head and saw the guard at the gate looking my way.
“Yes, I am,” I mumbled, taking a step toward the gate.
“Please, say the password,” he said with a smile.
“Masquerade,” I replied, instinctively hunching my shoulders.
I immediately worried this might be some kind of prank and they’d chase me off…
But the guard nodded and opened the wrought-iron gate for me.
“Good evening, I see it’s your first time,” he said. “Go ahead, the game is about to start, and they won’t let in anyone who’s late. You’ve got ten minutes to get inside the house.”
I nodded and followed the others, watching where they were headed.
As soon as they opened the door and disappeared inside the house, I followed suit.
When I entered, a girl in a gray mask greeted me and offered me a choice between two masks: white and black.
“Please, pick one,” she said.
I reached out and took the black one, thinking it would match my dress better. Or maybe I’d stumbled onto the set of some reality show? It’d be cool to see myself on TV later…
“Do I put it on right now?” I asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “In a couple of minutes, once everyone has their masks on, you’ll hear further instructions from the host.”
She opened the door she was standing by, and I peeked inside. Nothing seemed suspicious—it looked like some kind of reception: tables set with food, surrounded by elegantly dressed men and women. The only odd thing was that everyone was wearing masks.
“Tonight, we’re playing ‘Cinderella’s Ball,’” a voice suddenly announced over the speakers. “The women’s task is to find the glass slippers hidden in the building—there are five pairs. The men’s task is to find a ‘Cinderella’ and dance with her at midnight. The pairs that form will be the winners. The team—white or black—with the most winners gets bonuses. The team with fewer winners gets penalties, except for those in first place. Also, the losers will receive tasks from the winners. If the numbers are equal, the team whose pair formed first wins.”
“What a weird setup,” I thought. But, honestly, it didn’t seem dangerous or unpleasant. And there was money to be won, so why not look for those slippers?
“Alright, let’s go. Find the slippers, the game has begun!” the voice declared, and music started playing.
The people around me started darting around the room almost frantically, though they’d been calm just moments before.
Only one man stood by the buffet table, calmly sipping something from his glass, and—challengingly—staring straight at me…