Suite 5
1952 Words
Lyra's point of view
Has he really gotten over me that easily?
The thought refused to leave my head no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. Damian Blackwood.
The same man who had spent the past eight months showing up at Velvet Eclipse almost every single night just to sit near me, hear my voice, or steal a few moments of conversation, had suddenly looked at me like I was nothing.
Like I was just another stranger in the club.
The memory burned painfully inside my chest.
I hated how much it burned.
I stood behind the bar pretending to clean glasses while my thoughts spiralled further out of control.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to focus on the customer sitting across from me.
Unfortunately my expression must have betrayed something because he suddenly reached over the counter and tapped my ass lightly, his hand lingering far longer than necessary.
“We were saying?” he asked with a sleazy grin spreading across his face.
I forced a polite smile immediately despite the discomfort crawling beneath my skin.
“Nothing,” I answered quietly. “We weren’t saying anything.”
I grabbed the tray beside me and attempted to walk away before the situation became uncomfortable.
Big mistake.
His fingers suddenly wrapped tightly around my wrist before he yanked me backward hard enough for my balance to falter slightly.
“Come on, baby,” he muttered while tightening his grip. “We’re not done yet.”
A sharp wave of irritation rushed through me instantly.
“I’m sorry,” I replied carefully while trying to free my hand without causing a scene, “but I really don’t feel well tonight.”
“Dammit!” he snapped loudly enough for nearby people to turn toward us immediately.
His face twisted with annoyance as he leaned closer.
“That Rosette is way too soft with you girls,” he muttered bitterly. “That’s why you sluts think you can treat customers however you want.”
My jaw tightened.
“We are the ones paying for services here,” he continued angrily while squeezing my wrist harder. “So stop acting difficult.”
Pain shot through my arm immediately.
“Let go,” I warned quietly.
Instead his grip only tightened further.
Around us, conversations slowly died down as more people began watching the scene unfold.
Great!
Exactly what I needed tonight.
“What the hell is going on here, young man?”
Madam Rosette’s sharp voice suddenly cut through the tension as she approached quickly from the opposite side of the club.
“And why exactly are your hands on my girl?”
The customer immediately pointed toward me in frustration.
“I paid for the entire night and now she suddenly feels sick?” he barked loudly. “This is complete bullshit!”
Rosette’s expression darkened instantly.
“How much did you pay?”
The man quickly mentioned the amount.
Without even blinking, Madam Rosette reached into her purse, pulled out several thick bills, and threw them directly into his face.
The entire club went silent.
The money scattered dramatically across the floor while the man stared at her in complete shock.
“Now get out,” Rosette said coldly.
“You’ve got to be kidding me..”
“I said get the f**k out.”
This time her voice rose loud enough for half the club to hear.
The man looked around briefly, probably realising nobody intended to defend him. Embarrassment flashed across his face before he cursed angrily beneath his breath and stormed toward the exit.
“You people are insane,” he muttered bitterly while leaving.
Only after he disappeared did I finally exhale properly.
My wrist still hurt slightly from how tightly he had grabbed me.
“I…” I swallowed softly before looking toward Rosette. “I’m sorry.”
For a second she simply stared at me silently.
Then finally her expression softened slightly.
“No,” she replied calmly. “You did nothing wrong, we have rules here, Lyra,” she continued while fixing the sleeve of her dress casually. “If they can’t treat my girls properly, then they can take their money and f**k off.”
Something about the statement tightened my throat unexpectedly.
Because despite all of Rosette’s flaws and being cursed with an abusive man…
She always protected her girls when it mattered.
I nodded quietly before lowering my gaze.
Unfortunately the whispers had already started around the room.
“Drama queen…”
“She always creates problems…”
“One day she’s seriously going to get us all in trouble…”
I ignored them completely.
Or at least I tried to.
Keeping my head lowered, I hurried away from the bar area while the confusion, and heartbreak inside my chest became harder to breathe through.
The moment I finally reached The Red Chamber, I slammed the door shut behind me before leaning heavily against it.
My chest rose unevenly while the muffled music from downstairs echoed faintly
through the walls.
The only thing I could think about now was Damian.
I threw myself onto the bed inside The Red Chamber with enough force to make the mattress creak beneath me while frustration twisted violently inside my chest. My thoughts refused to settle no matter how hard I tried distracting myself.
He hadn’t shown up in a week.
And now suddenly he returned with another woman hanging on his arm.
An ugly b***h.
The thought came instinctively before I immediately groaned and covered my face with a pillow.
“No,” I muttered bitterly against the fabric. “She wasn’t ugly.”
That woman had been beautiful.
Painfully beautiful.
Elegant. Perfect. Classy in the kind of effortless way women like me could never be.
And somehow that made everything worse.
Because if she had been ugly, I could have mocked her and moved on with my life.
But she wasn’t.
She looked like the exact kind of woman a man like Damian Blackwood was supposed to end up with.
The thought made my stomach sink painfully.
I paced around the room restlessly, my heartbeat far louder than I wanted it to be. The silence inside the suite suddenly felt suffocating, forcing me to move aimlessly from one corner to another while trying to ignore the strange tightness spreading through my chest. With an irritated sigh, I walked toward the mirror and quickly changed into a different outfit, my fingers adjusting the fabric carefully until my cleavage showed just enough.
Then I paused.
What the hell was happening to me?
This wasn’t me.
It could never be me.
I had never cared about whether a man looked at me or not. Men came and went through Velvet Eclipse every single night. Some rich. Some powerful. Some handsome enough to make girls lose their minds. None of them had ever affected me beyond temporary amusement.
So why was Damian Blackwood suddenly turning me into someone I didn’t recognise?
Frustrated, I grabbed my heels and headed toward Suite 5 anyway.
The moment I stepped into the upstairs hallway, I caught the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air, warm and expensive enough to make my stomach tighten instantly. I stopped directly outside the suite door, my fingers twitching slightly at my sides while music echoed faintly from downstairs.
I wanted to knock.
God, I wanted to.
But people constantly moved through the VIP hallway, waitresses carrying drinks while wealthy clients disappeared into private rooms with beautiful women hanging onto their arms. I could already imagine the looks I would get standing outside Damian’s suite like some desperate woman waiting to be chosen.
Absolutely not.
Annoyed with myself, I turned sharply and headed back downstairs.
I spent the next hour pretending to work.
I moved around the club carrying trays and forcing smiles while rejecting clients one after another with the excuse that I felt sick tonight. Surprisingly, that part wasn’t entirely a lie anymore.
My hands felt colder than usual.
My chest tightened every few minutes.
And every single time a man walked down from the VIP section, my heart skipped painfully because for one stupid second I always thought it would be him.
What the hell was taking so long?
How long had he been up there already?
My jaw tightened as ugly thoughts started creeping into my head despite my efforts to stop them.
Was he enjoying himself that much?
Was she prettier than me?
Was that why he never came back downstairs?
I hated myself for even thinking like that.
I stood behind the counter pretending to clean glasses that were already spotless while my thoughts became more unbearable by the second.
Then finally...
Damian was descending the staircase.
And beside him walked the woman.
Her hand rested lightly against Damian’s arm while he guided her down the stairs with calm precision.
Something sharp twisted painfully inside my stomach.
Damian’s gaze slowly swept across the club as he descended the final steps.
Was he searching for me?
The thought alone made my chest tighten.
Before my brain could stop me, I grabbed a tray of glasses and purposely walked directly into their path.
Crash!
The glasses shattered loudly across the floor the moment I collided against him.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I muttered quickly while crouching down to gather the broken pieces.
My fingers trembled slightly.
I hated that they trembled.
After a second, I slowly lifted my gaze toward him.
“You?” I asked softly, pretending surprise.
Damian looked down at me.
And for one terrifying moment…
Everything stopped.
The music. The lights. The voices around us.
His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity so familiar it almost made my knees weaken instantly.
The woman beside him frowned slightly before looking between us.
“Damian,” she asked softly, “you know her?”
Her gaze swept over me slowly, cold and judgemental, lingering just long enough to make it obvious exactly what she thought I was.
Just another Velvet Eclipse girl.
Just another slut.
My chest tightened painfully.
Damian remained silent for one long second before his expression became unreadable.
Then finally—
“No,” he said calmly. “Of course not.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
“You’re probably mistaking me for someone else, miss,” he added quietly, though his darkening eyes never once left mine.
For one painful second, neither of us moved.
Then the woman beside him smiled faintly before tightening her hold around his arm. “Come on, Damian,” she said softly. “We’re going to be late.”
And just like that…
He walked past me.
The scent of his cologne lingered behind like torture while the shattered glass beneath my heels reflected the flashing red lights of Velvet Eclipse. Around me the club slowly returned to life again — music pounding, people laughing, dancers moving across stages — but somehow everything sounded muffled inside my head.
Because Damian Blackwood had just looked me in the eyes…
And pretended I meant nothing.
My fingers curled tightly around the broken glass still sitting in my palm until pain finally snapped me out of my trance.
I stood abruptly.
Too abruptly.
The chair beside me crashed loudly against the floor as my chest tightened painfully.
No.
No, no, no.
This wasn’t happening.
Not after eight months.
Not after the way he used to look at me.
I turned instantly toward the entrance just in time to see Damian reaching the club doors with the woman still beside him.
Panic surged through me before my pride could stop it.
“Damian!”
- Writer
