Chapter 4

Josie Cohen POV:

My heart stopped. It wasn' t a romantic flutter, but a sickening lurch, like a car hitting a pothole at high speed. Demetri. Here. Now. All the humiliation from inside the club, the slap from Caron, the desperate begging-it all came rushing back, crashing over me. I lowered my head, wishing the pavement would swallow me whole.

"Josie." His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. "I saw you leave. We need to talk about Bennie."

Bennie. Of course. It was always about Bennie. My head snapped up, a surge of adrenaline pushing away my shame. "What about Bennie? What did he do now?"

Demetri scoffed, a humorless sound. "Your brother, Ms. Cohen, has managed to assault Leo again. This time, he threatened him with a weapon."

My mind reeled. "No! That's not possible! Bennie wouldn't-"

"He would," Demetri cut me off, his voice cold. "And he did. It seems your 'good kid' has quite a temper. Perhaps if you weren't so busy entertaining wealthy men, you might actually supervise him properly."

The words were a direct hit, aimed with surgical precision at my most vulnerable spot. My mouth felt dry. "How dare you? You have no idea what I've been through, what I've done for him." My voice rose, cracking with indignation. "He's just a boy, and he's angry. You think I haven't tried to guide him? To protect him?"

Demetri's eyes narrowed. "Protection, Ms. Cohen, does not excuse criminal behavior. Your brother threatened my client's cousin. And he refuses to apologize. You leave me no choice but to push for the maximum sentence."

A hollow ache spread through my chest. "Max-maximum sentence?" My voice trembled. "You... you can't be serious. He's a minor."

"The laws apply to minors as well, Ms. Cohen," Demetri said, his face a mask of stone. "Especially when repeated offenses are involved." He turned to leave, his silhouette stark against the flickering streetlights.

"Demetri, wait!" I cried, desperation clawing at my throat. My voice was raspy, barely audible. "Did you... did you ever trust me? Even once?"

He stopped, his back to me. "I trust evidence, Josie. Always have. That's my job."

He didn't turn around. He just walked away, disappearing into the darkness, leaving me alone under the harsh glare of the streetlamp. The humiliation, the fresh wounds from Bennie's cruel words, the weight of my parents' deaths-it all converged, threatening to drown me.

I walked home in a daze, the city lights blurring through my unshed tears. My apartment, small and sparsely furnished, felt cold and empty. Bennie wasn't there. He was still out, God knows where, probably stewing in his anger.

I collapsed onto the worn sofa, exhaustion seeping into my bones. My fingers found my phone, and I typed a quick message to Bennie. Where are you? Please come home. We need to talk.

Hours later, the door creaked open. Bennie slunk in, his eyes dark and defiant.

"Where have you been?" I asked, my voice tight with worry. "Demetri said you threatened Leo again. What happened?"

He shrugged, dropping his backpack with a thud. "Nothing. Just taught that little snitch a lesson."

"A lesson?" I cried, jumping to my feet. "Bennie, they're talking about juvenile detention! You can't just keep doing this!"

"What do you care?" he shot back, his voice laced with venom. "You're too busy playing the victim, just like always. You think I don't see it? You just want to look good, being the 'responsible older sister' while I rot in some damn prison!"

"How can you say that?" I asked, my voice cracking. "I'm your sister! I'm all you have left! Mom and Dad... they made me promise to look after you!"

His face twisted in a sneer. "Mom and Dad? You think I forgot? You're the reason they're dead! You screamed at them, made them upset, and then they crashed! It's all your fault, Josie! I hate you!"

The words, raw and unfiltered, pierced through me, tearing open old wounds. My breath caught in my throat. He blamed me. He truly blamed me.

Bennie, like a wounded animal, glared at me one last time, then slammed his bedroom door shut. The sound echoed through the tiny apartment, leaving only silence in its wake.

I sank back onto the sofa, my heart a raw, bleeding mess. He hated me. He blamed me for everything. My parents' deaths, our debt, our broken lives. Was he right? Was it all my fault? The thought twisted in my gut, a bitter poison.

Tears streamed down my face, silent and endless. The only sound in the apartment was my own ragged breathing, slowly turning into despairing sobs.

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the window, my eyes puffy and aching. Bennie's door was ajar, his room empty. He was gone. Again. My phone buzzed. It was Caron. VIP room 5. Tonight. This is your last chance, Josie. Don't disappoint me.

I felt a cold dread wash over me. Tonight. Another humiliation, another piece of my soul chipped away. But I had no choice. Bennie was out there, volatile and reckless. I needed that money more than ever.

Later that afternoon, while getting ready for my shift, I heard a familiar voice from the TV in the communal lounge area. It was Claudia. Her face, impeccably made up, shone from the screen, radiating an aura of false sincerity.

"It has been a long journey of healing," she said, her voice soft, almost angelic. "After the trauma I experienced at university, and now with my dear cousin Leo's tragic accident... I'm just so grateful for the love and support of my fiancé, Demetri. He's my rock, my everything."

"Oh, isn't she just so brave?" one of the other girls cooed. "After all that Josie Cohen put her through, and now this with her cousin. She really is an angel."

"And Demetri, what a catch!" another chimed in. "He's so loyal, so protective. Imagine having a man like that by your side."

My blood boiled. Brave? Angel? She was a fraud, a master manipulator. "Brave?" I scoffed, unable to hold back. "She's a liar! A fake! She built her entire career on false accusations!"

The girls stared at me, then at the TV, then back at me, their faces a mixture of shock and pity.

"You really believe that, Josie?" one of them asked, her voice tinged with skepticism. "After all the evidence, after what happened at USC? You're the one who got expelled, remember?"

I turned away, my jaw tight. What was the point? No one would ever believe me. Not when Claudia had spun such a perfect narrative of innocent victimhood.

The bell chimed, signaling my rotation. VIP Room 5. My heart hammered against my ribs. I pushed open the heavy door, carrying my tray of expensive champagne.

And there he was. Sitting at the head of the table, commanding the room with his presence. Demetri Anderson.