That night, someone held me on his lap and forced me to drink.
The manager walked in with a smile, saying something urgent had come up.
The man reluctantly groped my thigh before letting me go. As soon as I stepped outside, I was met with Andre's cold face.
He grabbed me and dragged me into a private room, throwing me onto the sofa, "You're this cheap? Letting those men grope you however they want?"
"So what? Isn't this how I make a living? If Mr. Hillsmith has nothing else, I'd like to go back, my tip isn't in yet." I propped myself up and opened the door. But his hand came from behind, slamming the door shut again.
I didn't look back, but he forced me to turn around and face him, "How much do you make a month here? I'll pay double. Come with me."
We were standing close, too close. Our posture was intimate, so close he could kiss me just by lowering his head.
Back when we were in love, he used to pin me against the door like this and kiss me until we couldn't bear to part.
Back then, I was blissfully shy. Now, I couldn't stand him even being so close.
I pushed him away, full of sarcasm, "What now? You don't hate me anymore, huh?"
Andre lowered his eyes, emotion unreadable.
I bit my lip, suddenly thinking of Cedric. I wondered, if his hatred wasn't so deep … could he help Cedric?
But before I could even test the waters, the door opened just a crack.
A sweet voice called through the gap, "Honey, what are you doing in there? Mr. Lachey and the others are looking for you."
"Nothing, I'm just taking a call." Andre glanced at me and gave a gentle smile toward the door. He reached out to open it wider and I leaned against the wall as he walked out.
I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh. Looks like I miscalculated.
Even if he were single, he might not be willing to help Cedric, let alone now, when he already had a wife and family.
I stayed in the room for a long time, exhaling a heavy breath before returning to drift from room to room. I worked until dawn, my legs trembling with exhaustion.
Just as I stepped out of the club, a Lincoln suddenly stopped beside me. "Get in." The window rolled down, revealing Andre's icy face as usual.
"Sorry, Mr. Hillsmith. I don't do business outside the club." I rejected him coldly and turned to leave.
He drove the car forward, blocking my path.
I was about to lash out when he suddenly opened the door, got out and forcefully dragged me in.
Slamming the door shut, he stepped on the gas. The car flew so fast it felt like he wanted to die with me. The car screeched to a stop in front of our old apartment building.
I practically fled from the vehicle and collapsed at the edge of a flower bed, retching.
Andre's voice came from behind me, "Josephine, I hate you. How could I not hate you? I wish I could drag you down with me. That's why … I won't let you off easily."
"If you're already selling yourself, why not sell to me? I'll pay more than any of them, right?" he mocked.
I wiped my mouth and started laughing, "Andre, even if I really sell myself, even if it's to anyone, it would never be to you. You want me to beg like a dog? Keep dreaming."
Andre grabbed my chin, his eyes burning with fury. "What's wrong with begging me? You can do it for all those men, but not for me? And don't forget, you've done it before. Did you forget how you moaned under me nine years ago?"
"Andre!" The moment he brought up the past, my anger boiled over. I slapped him hard across the face.
