His ruin

Not him

I never got to ask, what’s the name of the hotel?” I said as we sped through the roads of New York.

“The Angel. And funny enough, it’s owned by a lawyer,” she said, letting out a small laugh.

“Lawyer?” I said, disbelieving.

“Yeah. Not in your wildest dreams will you believe a lawyer owns one of the biggest hotels in New York?”

“You get!”

“Mr. D is not just a regular person. He is not just a well-known criminal lawyer, but a business tycoon.”

“Ohh, wow,” I said.

“He is also shady, cold, and domineering. He hardly talks. Words on the street say he’s an underground wrestler…allegedly.”

“So many records for one person, don’t you think?” I asked, intrigued by this certain Mr. D.

Jane shrugged her shoulders.

“Try not to encounter him in this club. Just do your job and don’t talk to no one.”

“So is he coming by?” I asked, my hands mindlessly fiddling with my skirt.

“Not really. I have only seen him once in two years of working for the club. He sometimes comes to talk business with his business partners,” Jane replies.

“How was it when you met him?”

At this point, I knew I was asking so many questions about this guy.

“Meet? It was more like him walking past me and walking right into the VVIP sector. And when I entered, he had his eyes closed. More like he was lost in his own thoughts.”

“What did you go there to do… I mean, the VVIP section?”

Jane gave me a side-eye and moved her attention back to the road.

For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer me.

“I was summoned by the manager,” she finally said, giving me a sly smile.

“Now quit asking too many questions.”

“Fine,” I said, putting my hand up in surrender.

I turned and leaned my chin against the glass as the cool breeze of New York swept through my face and hair.

Closing my eyes for a moment, the car suddenly jolted to a stop.

“We’re here,” Jane said, reapplying her lip gloss at the front mirror, completely oblivious to my now sweating palms.

“Come on, let’s get going.”

She opened her door and stepped out.

I was still butt-stuck in the passenger seat, seemingly unable to move.

Noticing my lack of words and cooperation, she bent over the driver’s door.

“Emilia? What’s wrong, baby?”

I looked up from my shaky hands, meeting her eyes.

“Nothing?”

At this point, my eyes were now tearing up.

“OMG…”

She got back into the car, immediately taking my hands.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” I tried pulling my hands off her hold to clean my tears, but she beat me to it.

“Don’t ruin your makeup, will you?” she said gently, dabbing my eyes.

“And it’s okay to feel like this. I know this is not your thing. You don’t have to hide when you’re around me… okay?”

“Okay.” I nodded.

“Did you also feel like this on your first day?”

“Nope,” Jane said, pouting and giving me a look that screamed So sorry, baby, you’re the only one feeling this way right now.

“Anyway, I have your back, Emilia. Nobody is going to mess with you here as long as I am aware. No SON OR DAUGHTER OF A BITCH.”

The last sentence made me burst into laughter.

“Oh, really?” I asked, still laughing.

“Yh, really. Now put on your big-girl pants. Let’s put on a show for everyone there.”

“Thank you, Jane,” I said, crossing over the car compartment and hugging her.

Making our way out of the parking lot, I saw a long queue of teenagers and women. Most of them looked hot and slutty, while the men literally used their eyes to undress them.

All of them were waiting to enter the club.

As I made to head in their direction to also wait, Jane dragged me in another direction.

A back door.

“This way.”

We made our way inside the club, and I was immediately hit with loud, blaring music.

We kept on walking until we rounded the counter where the servers and waitresses stood.

“So, Emilia, this is it,” Jane shouted over the blaring music. “Your work isn’t hard. You just have to serve the VIP and VVIP sectors. Do nothing else but that. And if anyone says otherwise, let me know. I will make sure to report them.”

“And who will you report them to?” I shouted back, curious at the level of confidence she had that the person would actually be dealt with.

“I have someone very powerful here, Emilia. I have to run along now. I will come by to see how you’re doing.”

I nodded.

She turned and disappeared into the midst of the crowd, heading deeper into the club.

….

It’s been a complete hour or so of me going back and forth, serving drinks, shots, and all the rest to the VIP section I was assigned to.

There had been a few catcalls.

Some men even tried to reach for my butt whenever I bent to serve them.

The amazing part was that I had gotten so many tips. I just kept stashing them in my purse each time I returned to the counter.

I had fended off a lot of side looks from my fellow waitresses, whom I was yet to even exchange any words with.

By the way, is it not a normal thing here, you know, getting all these tips?

I wondered.

“Hey, new girl.”

I turned to see a girl giving me a once-over look.

Ptts.

“Come carry this tray of shots and follow me.”

I looked at her, utterly confused.

“Your sector has been swapped,” she clarified.

“Now hurry. We don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”

Not even giving me a chance to say anything, she handed me a tray of shots, carried a tray of whiskey herself, and walked past me.

My instincts kicked in, and I followed her.

Trying to keep up with her fast strides on these goddamn heels, we left the first floor and made our way to a staircase which was different from the one I had been using to serve.

I don’t know why, but my body started feeling sick.

My heart was beating rapidly.

I held onto the tray tightly as we stopped in front of a grand-looking door.

Okayyy.

The girl, whom I was yet to know the name of, knocked.

The door was pulled open from inside by a bodyguard.

Okayyy.

We stepped inside, and it was a whole other party or club going on here.

The place was rounded with couches occupied by men all in suits, being entertained.

And in the middle was a stripper’s pole, surrounded by a table. On the table were girls barely wearing anything, dancing and twirling.

We made our way to the men and settled the trays of drinks on the table.

Orders started coming in, each requesting either whiskey or shots.

But something strange or rather, someone was further away at the end.

And I felt it.

At the back of my head, a heavy stare.

The feeling was strange.

Domineering.

Urging me to turn and look in that direction.

And I did.

But all I saw was a dark figure.

Then I noticed his hand moving.

Calling me over.

Not wanting to disobey and get myself into trouble, I lowered my head and moved in that direction.

Reaching there, I stopped.

“Sir, do you want anything… whiskey or shots?” I said, and then dared to meet his eyes.

My world froze.

The environment became frenzied and blurred.

Our eyes locked.

No words were spoken.

A moment went by before I muttered out his name.

“Damien,” I said, disbelieving.

“Emily?”

Disbelief was also laced in his voice.

Then his eyes dropped to my outfit.

And his eyes met mine instantly.

The disbelief that had filled his eyes was now gone.

Replaced with something cold, unreadable.

No.

It couldn't be him. Of all the people in New York, it had to be him.

And then I ran. Pushing away anyone who was in my way.

And as I ran, I could feel heavy, fast footsteps behind me.