Chapter 2
1381 Words
Rose spun around immediately, breaking eye contact with him. Ahead, Mark was already walking down the carpeted corridor. Rose followed quickly, keeping a strict distance of three steps behind him.
The dim sconces of the club cast long, stretched shadows of Mark in front of her. The moment they turned into a private hallway—away from the heavy bass thumping from the dance floor—Rose’s pace slowed. Her shoes felt incredibly heavy. Her mind was a chaotic mess. Noel was in the hospital, medical bills were piling up in her staff locker, and now, Victor was here. Her breath came short and ragged.
Rose stopped walking right under the glow of a wall light.
"This is far enough," Rose said, her voice raspy. She swallowed hard to wet her dry throat. "Thank you for your help. Please convey my gratitude to your boss as well."
Mark stopped. His shoes squeaked against the uncarpeted wooden floor. He turned around slowly, crossing his arms over his chest, and stared straight at Rose with a flat, expressionless face.
"If you want to thank him," Mark said, his voice deep and heavy, "tell him yourself."
He lowered his arms and pointed toward the dark end of the hallway.
Rose closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a long breath through her mouth, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Seven years ago, she had known exactly what the look on Victor’s face meant back in that room. Victor never let go of anything in front of him. He wouldn't let her leave this club without an interrogation.
Rose clenched her fingers against the side of her uniform skirt, digging her fingernails into her palms. She forced herself to walk again, passing Mark, who now walked half a step behind to show her the way.
They arrived in front of a heavy wooden door with a brass number mounted on top. It was a suite on the side wing of the club. Mark opened the door, letting Rose step inside first. The room was neat, quiet, and smelled of cedarwood.
"Mr. Halston won't be long. Wait here," Mark said from the threshold, then immediately closed the door until it clicked shut.
The room fell completely silent.
Rose stood rigid in the center of the space. Her gaze shifted from the black leather sofa to the large window overlooking the New York skyline, before finally dropping to her own hands. She wrung her knuckles until they turned white, then began picking at the skin around her fingernails until it stung. What was she supposed to say to him? What lie could possibly be strong enough to protect herself and Noel from Victor?
The sound of the doorknob turning made her entire body freeze. Her legs felt paralyzed, rooted to the thick, expensive plush carpet.
The man walked in and stopped right in front of her.
Victor wasn't wearing his suit jacket. His expensive, dark gray dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows, revealing the strong forearms Rose used to lean against. His sharp jaw tightened, and his piercing, ice-cold eyes locked onto her instantly. A flash of shock flickered across his eyes so fast it was gone in a second. Then, his jaw clenched tighter, and his expression became completely unreadable.
Seven years ago, those same eyes used to look at her with a tenderness that made her believe she was loved. Now, that gaze stripped away every ounce of her defense.
"So..." Victor’s deep, low voice broke the silence. He sounded incredibly calm, which only made it far more terrifying than a shout. "This is how you survive?"
Rose squeezed her freezing fingers at her sides. Her throat felt dry, choked by a thousand explanations fighting to get out. She wanted to scream that she had been thrown out, that she was never given a chance to explain, but her stubborn pride and the hardened pain kept her tongue tied. She refused to cry in front of the man who now looked at her like she was trash.
Rose took a deep breath, forcing her eyes to stare straight at the floor, avoiding any eye contact that could shatter the remaining fragments of her strength.
"Good evening, Mr. Halston," Rose said, trying to mask the tremor in her voice. She bowed respectfully, acting exactly like a club waitress who had absolutely no history with her guest. "I am the server sent by Mr. Adrian to take care of your drinks tonight."
Hearing the name 'Mr. Halston' and her formal demeanor, the corner of Victor’s mouth twitched upward into a cold, cynical smirk.
Victor reached out, roughly grabbing Rose’s chin and forcing her to look up at him. "Take care of my drinks? Working part-time at a nightclub wearing barely enough clothes to cover your skin... is this how you choose to survive after ruining my life?"
"If you don't need my services, I will leave," Rose said as flatly as possible, trying to pull her chin away from his grip.
Instead, Victor’s grip tightened, leaving red marks on her pale skin. His eyes flashed with anger at the forced resilience she was putting up.
"Leave?" Victor whispered against her face, his warm breath intensely intimidating. "Adrian told me you're desperate for money. You're even willing to do anything tonight just for a few dollar bills, aren't you? So why act like you want to leave now?"
The words hit Rose squarely in the chest, sparking the same anger she felt when dealing with the heavy-set man downstairs.
Rose clenched her fists.
But Noel was still in the hospital. She couldn't lose this opportunity.
Rose yanked Victor’s hand off her chin with a sharp jerk, then took a step back to re-establish a safe distance between them.
"Yes, that's right. I need money. So if you actually have a job for me tonight, just say it," Rose said quietly, but with absolute firmness. She would swallow her pride for money, but she would not let him trample on her dignity any further.
Victor remained silent for a moment. His jaw worked slowly before he finally took a step back.
"Pour the drink," he commanded coldly.
Rose swallowed hard. She stepped toward the glass table, picked up the expensive bottle, and began pouring it into Victor’s crystal glass. Her hand shook slightly, causing the ice cubes inside the glass to clink softly.
As Rose handed him the glass, Victor’s gaze wasn't on the drink, but on her bare left wrist. A cheap, blue braided string bracelet was tied there, looking completely out of place and ridiculous against the luxury of the penthouse suite.
Victor let out a mocking scoff, taking the glass from her hand while casting a cynical glance at the bracelet. "Your taste has really dropped this low. Even for jewelry, you're wearing trashy string like that?"
Rose immediately pulled her left hand back, hiding it behind her back. She didn't talk back.
It was just a simple thread bracelet Noel had made during a school craft class. Noel had made two, and they weren't even symmetrical. One for himself, and one for Rose.
Just as the suffocating silence took over the room again, the phone inside Rose’s uniform pocket vibrated.
Rose flinched. She glanced at Victor hesitantly, but the continuous vibration gave her a sudden, sinking feeling. With a trembling hand, she pulled out her phone and saw Sarah’s name flashing on the screen.
Ignoring Victor’s intimidating gaze, Rose swiped the green button and pressed the phone to her ear. "Sarah? What's—"
"Rose—" Sarah’s voice on the other end was shaking violently. "Noel’s condition suddenly worsened. He's critical!"
Rose’s knees instantly went weak. Her fingers lost all their strength, and the phone nearly slipped from her grasp. "What? How..."
"The doctor wants to speak with you right now."
Sarah’s sentence cut off, but Rose couldn't hear anything anymore.
Right in front of Victor, who was still watching her, Rose’s face turned completely white.
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