Chapter 5

"You were right," one of Donovan's friends sneered, his voice dripping with amusement. "She does work here. This is going to be fun."

"Hey, sweetheart," another called, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. "You gonna seat us, or just stand there looking pretty?"

My fingers tightened around the menus as I forced a polite smile. "I'm not your sweetheart," I said through gritted teeth, placing the menus down. "Please, take your seats."

As I leaned over to set the beers in front of them, one of them—a broad-shouldered brute with a wolfish grin—grabbed my waist, his fingers digging in. My entire body locked up, a cold wave of disgust washing over me.

"Love this little outfit," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Bet you'd look even better without it."

I jerked back, slapping his hand away. "Don't touch me," I snapped, my voice sharp enough to make a few nearby diners glance over.

One of the others laughed, swirling his drink lazily. "Oh, come on, Lillian. Isn’t this what you’re here for? To entertain us?" He patted his lap. "Sit. I’ll make it worth your while."

My jaw clenched. "I’m a waitress," I repeated, my nails biting into my palms. "Not your personal plaything."

Another one—tall, with a cruel twist to his lips—leaned forward. "Let’s be real. You got this job because of that face, not your skills." He tossed a wad of cash onto the table. "I’ll double your paycheck if you show us what’s under that uniform."

The room spun for a second, fury and humiliation burning through me.

I glanced at Donovan.

He was watching me, silent, his expression unreadable. Once, he would’ve torn these men apart for speaking to me like this. Now? He just sat there, as if I were nothing.

"Ten grand," one of them announced suddenly, sliding a full beer toward me. "Drink this, and it’s yours."

I blinked. "What?"

"You heard him," another chimed in. "All of us will give you ten grand each if you finish all our drinks."

My gaze flicked between the beers and their smirking faces. Then, against my better judgment, I looked at Donovan again.

His brow arched, waiting.

Fine.

Swallowing my pride, I grabbed the first glass.

I hated beer—the bitter taste, the way it made my stomach churn—but money was money. And I needed it. For my father. For his debts.

I tipped the glass back, forcing the liquid down as they cheered. The second one went down easier, though my head was already swimming.

By the third, my vision blurred.

Then—

A hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me away from the table.

Donovan’s friends booed, calling him a killjoy as he dragged me outside. The cold night air hit my face, sobering me just enough to glare up at him.

"Take my offer," he growled, his grip bruising. "Stop humiliating yourself."

"I won’t be your mistress," I spat, my words slightly slurred. "Not for any price."

His eyes darkened. "You’d rather act like a cheap whore instead?"

"Why do you care?" I shot back, shoving against his chest. "You have your fiancée. I’m not your problem anymore."

His fingers dug into my arms. "You’ll always be mine, Lillian."

I laughed, the sound hollow. "I’m not."

His expression twisted, something vicious flashing in his eyes. "Fine. Be a slut, then. Open your legs for cash—it’s all you’re good for—"

My hand cracked across his face before I could stop myself.

He didn’t flinch. Just stared at me, his jaw tightening. Then—

His gaze dropped to my neck.

His face paled.

"What the hell," he hissed, grabbing my chin and forcing my head to the side. "Is that a hickey?"

I’d forgotten about it—the fading mark Sebastian had left two nights ago.

I yanked free. "So what if it is?"

His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Who. Was. It."

"None of your business."

I turned to leave, but he grabbed me again, spinning me around. His fingers bit into my skin.

"Answer me!"

I met his gaze, my own burning with defiance. "Sebastian Blackwood. Your future father-in-law. Happy now?"

For a second, he just stared.

Then—

He let go, laughing—a harsh, broken sound.