3.
The Hilltop Club.
Clementine stood outside a private room, hesitating.
The door wasn't fully closed. She looked up, and through the gap she saw everything with brutal clarity.
Damon lounged on a sofa, Cindy Pruitt beside him. The two of them held a slip of paper between their lips, mouths nearly touching, the air thick with suggestion.
The crowd around them was going wild. “Come on, Damon, make a move! Look how shy little Cindy is. You two are perfect together.”
“Seriously. Cindy, if he won't go first, you go. You're going to end up together anyway. Might as well get some practice in.”
Laughter erupted. Cindy blushed and reached for Damon's hand, all coy modesty.
Damon didn't react. He sat there, staring at nothing, lost in some thought.
Clementine stood rooted in place, watching all of it. Her eyes burned.
So this was Damon's world.
His world was full of adoring girls and admiration. Full of love. He wanted for nothing.
She and he had never belonged to the same world.
Even though Clementine had technically grown up in these circles, she had never once been accepted.
Her peers spoke of her with open contempt. “The Pruitts' little stray. Can't even afford a handbag.”
Clementine was unwanted at home. She had known since childhood that the only person she could count on was herself.
In this world, only she and money would never betray her.
Eventually she earned a nickname: “the gold-digging opportunist.”
Someone in the room spoke up. “Damon, word is you slept with her sister for Cindy's sake. So, how was the eldest Miss Pruitt?”
Damon's lips twitched. His voice was low and rough. “Tacky and money-obsessed. But in bed? Absolutely worth the trouble.”
Clementine's heartbeat stuttered. She pulled her gaze back with a bitter smile.
If Damon wanted to humiliate her, did he have to do it like this?
The jeering grew louder. Damon seemed irritated. He spat out the paper slip and leaned back on the sofa.
He glanced up and caught sight of Clementine standing in the doorway.
His brow furrowed. “What's she doing here?”
Cindy followed his gaze, her voice dripping with scorn. “Oh, Damon, did you know my dear sister has a nickname? They call her “the gold-digging opportunist.” Money is all she cares about. She's probably broke and out looking for a new sugar daddy.”
Damon's expression shifted. He remembered Clementine telling him she had dropped all her side jobs. Clementine was someone who panicked without work. She would never stop earning unless she already had enough money.
The thought darkened his face.
He turned and gave an order. “Bring her in.”
One of the young men nodded, walked out, and hauled Clementine inside.
She found herself standing in the center of the room. Her pulse hammered. Her palms were slick.
Fury churned in Damon's eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, his voice cutting. “Clementine, you love money that much? You're that desperate? Can't wait even one second?”
“Fine. Then strip, right here in front of everyone. Let them all see what you really are.”
“For every piece you take off, I'll give you ten million.”
His words hit like a slap across her face. Her eyes turned red instantly. “Damon, I'm not here for that. I came to cover a shift for a friend.”
Just as Clementine spoke, Cindy knocked a bottle off the table. The crash of shattering glass drowned out every word.
Damon scoffed. “No? Then I'll have someone help you.”
Before the words had settled, several men with hungry eyes closed in on Clementine. A sharp ripping sound ——
Her jacket tore open, exposing the camisole underneath.
As they pulled at her, Damon's expression grew darker with each passing second.
Clementine clutched her arms across her chest. In the middle of the scuffle, Damon's voice cut through.
“Enough. Let her go. Get her out of here. Now.”
He flicked a bank card at her. It struck her face. Clementine flinched, eyes shutting on reflex, the sting shooting straight to the bridge of her nose. She held the tears back by sheer force.
The men looked disappointed but said nothing more.
Clementine walked out of the room, her body rigid, her eyes rimmed red.
The next second, a towel clamped over her mouth. She was wrenched backward and dragged away.
She thrashed wildly, but the drug seeping through the cloth pulled her under.
