Chapter 3

Josie Cohen POV:

Harper Valentine' s words, sharp and laced with disdain, doused the last spark of hope I had that Demetri might intervene. He just sat there, impassive, watching the spectacle unfold.

Claudia, ever the victim, nestled deeper into Demetri's side, her voice a soft murmur. "Demetri, dear, did you tell them why you came? You know how easily I get anxious in crowds."

Demetri' s gaze softened as he looked at her, a stark contrast to the glacial stare he' d given me just moments before. "I told them, love. Just checking on you before my flight to New York. Wanted to make sure you were comfortable."

A ripple of murmurs went through the table. "Oh, Demetri, you're so sweet!" "Always looking out for Claudia!" Their fawning voices only twisted the knife deeper.

He glanced at the others, a subtle warning in his eyes. "Please, give Claudia some space. She's been through a lot lately." His gaze never once landed on me. Not even a flicker.

My heart, which I thought had already turned to stone, throbbed with a fresh, raw ache. The indifference was almost worse than the open contempt. It meant I truly was nothing to him now.

"So, Josie," Harper Valentine said again, breaking the agonizing silence, his voice now a low growl. "Are you going to be a good girl, or do I need to remind you who's in charge?" He gestured towards the block of ice, a cruel smirk on his face.

My mind raced, searching for an escape, any escape. I couldn't do this. Not here. Not in front of Demetri. It would break me completely. But Bennie... Bennie needed this money. He needed me to survive.

"Sir, please," I pleaded, my voice barely audible, thick with unshed tears. "Couldn't I... a different song? Perhaps something less... challenging?"

Harper Valentine' s face contorted in a sneer. "Still playing the innocent act, huh? Last time I heard, you were quite the performer, Josie. Willing to do anything for a buck, weren't you?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "Or maybe you just prefer a private audience for your talents?"

His suggestive tone made my stomach churn. The memory of his lecherous gaze from earlier, the feel of his clammy hand on my arm – it all came rushing back. I felt utterly exposed, as if the thin lace uniform had already vanished.

Just then, Caron Wolfe, my manager, appeared in the doorway, her eyes quickly assessing the situation. Her face was ashen, her lips pressed into a thin line. She knew. She knew the line had been crossed.

"Mr. Valentine," Caron said, her voice surprisingly firm. "I apologize for the misunderstanding. Josie is new to the VIP section. Perhaps I can offer you another girl? Someone more... experienced with your preferences?"

Harper Valentine waved a dismissive hand. "No, no. I'm quite happy with Josie. But it seems she needs a little... encouragement." He looked at me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Josie, get down on your knees and apologize for your insolence. Now."

My body stiffened, a cold dread seeping into my bones. My knees threatened to buckle. Apologize? For what? For trying to preserve the last shred of my dignity? But the look in Harper's eyes... he meant it. He wanted to break me.

I glanced at Caron, whose face was grim, a silent command in her eyes. Do it, Josie. For the money. For your brother.

My mind flashed with Bennie' s face, pale and injured in the hospital bed, the doctor' s grim prognosis. The mounting medical bills. The looming threat of juvenile detention. It was all for him. Everything. My pride, my dignity, my very soul.

My knees hit the plush carpet with a soft thud. The lace of my uniform scratched against my skin. I lowered my head, my hair a curtain around my face, biting back a sob. "I... I apologize, sir. Forgive my... presumption." The words felt like poison on my tongue.

A small snicker broke the silence. "Look at her, groveling like a dog," someone whispered. "Who would have thought Josie Cohen would end up like this?" Another voice, harsher, said, "Demetri's not even looking. He probably still hates her."

Harper Valentine chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. "Good girl. Now, get out of here. You've ruined my mood." He waved his hand dismissively.

I scrambled to my feet, my legs wobbly, and tried to escape the room before I completely shattered.

As I stumbled out, Caron was waiting for me, her face a thundercloud. She gripped my arm, her nails digging into my flesh. "My office. Now."

The office was small, cramped, and smelled faintly of stale cigarettes and desperation. Before I could even close the door, Caron's hand flashed out. A sharp, stinging slap cracked across my cheek, making my head snap back.

"You idiot!" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "I told you to make him happy! I told you to follow the rules! Do you know how much money you just cost me? How much you just cost yourself?"

My cheek burned, throbbing with pain. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "I... I'm sorry, Caron. I tried. But he wanted me to-"

"I don't care what he wanted!" she spat. "You think you're too good for this, Josie? You think you're still that rich art student who can afford to be 'proud'?" Her eyes narrowed. "Look around you, honey. This isn't USC. This is the real world. A world where money talks, and you, my dear, are just another piece of merchandise on the shelf."

She paced the small room, her anger vibrating in the air. "You're a liability. I can't have you messing up my clients. You're fired."

My head snapped up, my eyes wide with terror. "Fired? No! Please, Caron, I need this. Bennie... he needs this. I'll do anything. I swear. Just... don't fire me. I'll obey every single rule. I promise." My voice was a desperate plea, stripped of all pride.

Caron stopped pacing, her gaze cold and unyielding. "Anything?"

"Anything," I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.

She studied me for a long moment, a calculating look in her eyes. "Alright, Josie. One last chance. But if you mess this up, you're out. For good."

I nodded, relief washing over me, cold and desperate.

I stepped out of the club, the cool night air doing little to soothe my burning cheek. I just needed to get home, to disappear into the darkness. But a figure emerged from the shadows of the alleyway beside the club, blocking my path.

Demetri.