"I'm... a little nervous. I haven't worked in a place like this in a long time. I hope I don't mess everything up."
The voice left Aura's lips with a genuine tremble. She stood under the cruel neon light of a 24-hour convenience store on the outskirts of the city. She was wearing a mint-green polo shirt and stiff black pants that felt itchy against her skin, a uniform that ironically felt more authentic than her evening gowns.
Facing her, Leo Garcia, a young man with a friendly smile and messy brown hair, chuckled easily. "Hey, take it easy. I'm Leo. You must be the new Aura. You're not facing a board of directors here, you're just facing a pile of chips. The job's easy, I promise."
Leo's statement, "You're not facing a board of directors," struck Aura with piercing irony. Just days ago, she had completely failed in front of the unofficial board of directors, Uncle Victor. Aura's previous failure, when she couldn't answer Victor's specific questions about commodity X and license negotiations, was the trigger that brought Aura, Alexander Volkov's wife, to this place. The shame of her absolute ignorance still felt like a raw wound to her pride.
Aura's Monologue: Alexander paid my debt, but he didn't buy my soul. I can't keep being a wife who relies solely on sass to cover up stupidity. I must protect the contract lie, and to protect the Volkov lie, I need real knowledge. I don't need money; I need a sense of independence. I'm choosing to use only the name Aura. Who would ever believe that Aura the shift worker is the mysterious Mrs. Volkov? The identities are too impossible to connect, and here, my name is just a name.
The decision to seek this secret job was an act of rebellion fueled by an urgent psychological need. Aura didn't need wealth; she needed normalcy, self-validation, and a foundation that Alexander couldn't snatch away or Victor couldn't scrutinize. She chose the convenience store job for its total anonymity. She had orchestrated an incredibly detailed escape plan.
That night, after Mrs. Jenkins had submitted her sleep report to Alexander, Aura performed her infiltration ritual. She dressed in all black and sneaked out through the rarely used side garden door. She took a regular taxi, allowing herself to sink into the unfiltered noise of the city: angry horns, music from passing cars, the smell of exhaust fumes. It was real life, the life she missed, starkly different from the intimidating 'Volkov silence' filled with hidden tension.
Her first destination was a public toilet at a quiet, dirty bus station, the location she chose for her complete transformation. Carefully, she shed her elegant clothes, which were part of her faux socialite uniform. The soft cotton dress was exchanged for a scratchy, stiff polyester polo shirt.
Aura's Monologue: This is the ritual of shedding identity. I am stripping off the fake Mrs. Volkov. Here, behind this rusty toilet door, I am just a girl looking for extra income. I have no debt, I have no contract, and Alexander Volkov has no claim on me.
Now, back at the convenience store, she faced Leo and the reality of her new work.
"So, Aura," Leo asked, handing her a rag and a bucket of soapy water, "what makes you want to work the night shift? Usually, the people taking this job are college students needing extra pocket money. You seem... more serious?"
Aura took the bucket, feeling its honest, tangible weight. "I'm just... looking for a different kind of experience, Leo. And yes, I'm a little serious about everything. I like things done right, by the book."
Leo smirked. "By the book? Here? The rules are: don't let spilled coffee sit for more than five minutes. And never, ever stock the chocolate bars next to the chewing gum. That's a cardinal sin."
"I understand," Aura replied, her tone slightly rigid. "I'll make sure everything is perfect. I'm used to strict rules."
"Too strict," Leo commented, observing her. "You look tense. Like you just escaped from a mansion prison."
Aura's Monologue: My God, Leo, you are smarter than Uncle Victor. Don't say the word 'prison'.
"No, I didn't escape from prison," Aura countered, trying to sound lighthearted. "I just had a very... structured life. So, if there are rules about how to stock cold drinks, I want to memorize them."
Leo shrugged. "Okay. First up, the freezer. Don't put Coke on the Pepsi shelf. It'll spark a cold war. After that, we clean the floor."
As Leo showed her the basics, Aura felt awkward. She, who was used to studying billion-dollar corporate financial reports to evade Uncle Victor's questions, struggled to scan a barcode and distinguish between different types of instant coffee.
"You know, for someone who likes rules, you're pretty awful at stocking," Leo joked, patiently fixing a pile of cans Aura had almost toppled. "What was your previous job? Accountant?"
"Almost," Aura replied, glancing at the chocolate shelf. "My previous job demanded I always be in control, ensuring everything went according to someone else's plan. But my work here... this is pure. I am directly responsible for this stack of chips."
"And how does it feel to be responsible for chips?"
"Enjoyable. No one is going to demand that I know the stock price of potatoes in the Asian market," Aura said, unconsciously uttering a sharp jibe that only she could understand.
"Sounds traumatic," Leo said. "You need therapy. Or maybe just stronger coffee. Want a cup?"
Aura nodded, accepting the coffee offer. During the brief break, Leo started talking about his normal life: his studies, the band he liked, and the trivial worry of paying rent. Leo's kindness, devoid of an agenda, felt like a cold antidote to Alexander's emotional frigidity.
Aura's Monologue: Leo is everything Alexander is not. Leo is transparent. Alexander is layers of cold, calculating lies. I don't have to fear Leo. Here, I am safe.
Aura's first shift was a physical marathon of exhaustion. Her feet ached from standing for hours. She realized how tiring physical labor was. Yet, every drink bottle she neatly stacked, every floor she cleaned, gave her a real sense of accomplishment, unlike the false 'victory' over Elara.
When her shift ended, she was exhausted but satisfied. Her sleepiness felt honest. She said goodbye to Leo, who cheered her on for the next shift. She returned to the public restroom, changing back into her socialite attire.
She slipped back into her guest suite, catching the faint scent of polyester, floor cleaner, and stale coffee clinging to her clothes. The contrast was dizzying. She had successfully created a secret life that gave her real power. Aura smiled. She knew she now had a double life, a boundary Alexander couldn't cross, an absolute freedom.