The heavy doors slammed behind me as I ran out of that cursed VIP room. My heart pounded violently against my chest. My heels echoed in the marble hallway like a countdown to my own doom.
I didn't stop until I reached the dressing room—the same glittering room that had moments ago been filled with beauty, perfume, and anticipation. But now… it was empty.
Completely deserted.
The vanity lights still glowed softly, illuminating the mess left behind—makeup kits scattered across the tables, lipstick-stained tissues, perfume bottles knocked over, gowns tossed like forgotten dreams.
I fell to the floor.
I couldn't hold it in anymore.
I wrapped my arms around myself, rocking back and forth as hot, silent tears poured down my face.
How did I get here?
This wasn't me.
This wasn't the life I wanted.
I sobbed into my palms, the ache in my chest heavier than the air around me.
Then—
The door banged open.
Moga.
Her heels clacked in like gunshots. Her eyes burned with fury, and her red curls whipped like fire as she stormed toward me.
"You local slut!" she spat, her voice slicing through the room.
SLAP!
Her palm landed across my face, so hard it echoed in the silence.
I gasped.
My hand flew to my cheek, now burning with pain and humiliation. Tears rushed down uncontrollably.
"You dare embarrass our clients?!" Moga screamed.
"I—I'm sorry…" I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.
"Sorry?! That was Luca Moretti, you idiot! The man who pays more for one night than your entire village earns in a year! All you had to do was give the damn pssy and get the fcking money! That's it!"
Her rage vibrated in every word, her chest rising and falling.
"You said you applied for this job? What the hell are you here for then? To ruin everything?" she shouted.
I couldn't speak.
I couldn't defend myself.
Because I had no answers.
She took a threatening step closer.
"Do you know how much we lost tonight?! How many VIP clients walked out after Luca's scene?! We lost millions—and you think your tears will bring it back?"
I stared at her, trembling.
Then her voice dropped, colder… deadlier.
"You have 72 hours, Rose."
My eyes widened.
"Either you get Luca Moretti to call you back, or you go work in the stripper department—and believe me, that's not a place for crybabies like you."
My breath caught in my throat.
"You either earn back that money… or regret ever stepping foot into LMD."
She turned and slammed the door behind her.
---
I stood there frozen. Her words replaying in my head like a cursed melody.
72 hours.
Get Luca Moretti to forgive me, to want me again, or degrade myself even further than I already had.
I couldn't believe this was real.
This was not what Lisa signed me up for.
This was not what I wanted for myself.
Still numb, I changed back into my clothes and left the building without saying a word. Every step felt heavier than the last.
When I got home, the dim lights and scent of damp walls welcomed me. The kind of home that hugs you with sadness.
Then I heard sobs.
I ran into the room—
Kelvin.
My baby brother, crying beside Mama, who lay still on the mattress, her frail body barely moving. His tiny hands gripped hers, tears pouring down his face.
"Mama, please wake up… Please don't leave us…" he whispered, his voice breaking.
My heart shattered all over again.
This… This was why I was doing all this.
Ever since I lost my bar job, Mama's medications had become irregular. We couldn't keep up. Her condition had worsened fast. And we couldn't even afford to take her for the transplant she desperately needed.
Why does life hate us this much?
I wiped my tears with the back of my palm, trying to be strong in front of Kelvin.
"I'll fix everything," I said softly, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince—him or myself.
I turned and walked into my small room. Closed the creaky door. Sat on the floor and hugged my knees.
72 hours.
That woman actually expects me to walk up to Luca Moretti… after what happened… and beg for another chance?
He called me a whore.
He fired someone just for bringing me.
He looked at me like I was garbage.
And yet…
His voice… his face… those eyes…
They wouldn't leave my mind.
I shoved my face into my pillow and screamed.
"Rose, stop dreaming!" I whispered.
"You'll never be on his level."
"You don't belong in his world."
But the thoughts didn't stop.
The more I tried to forget, the more his presence lingered.
---
24 hours passed.
And I was nowhere closer to figuring out what to do.
One day gone. Two more left.
Mama was getting worse. Kelvin hadn't stopped crying.
And I… was out of options.
Except one.
Luca Moretti.