Chapter 1

I spent eight years working as a VIP hostess in the city’s most exclusive nightclub.

I endured handsy, drunk rich guys touching me, swallowing my disgust every single night. All of that was just to buy my fiancé a luxury car and a gorgeous apartment.

But right when we were preparing for our wedding, his ex-girlfriend, Chloe, returned to the country.

Logan told me she wanted to go out and sing, so he brought her straight to the high-end lounge where I worked. He even specifically demanded that I personally serve them.

The moment I sat down, Chloe crossed her slender legs and pressed her glowing cigarette butt directly into the back of my hand.

"Logan, isn't your fiancé the best at serving people? Make her pour my drinks on her knees. After all, she’d do anything for a few hundred dollars in tips."

Instead of feeling any pity, Logan pinned my shoulders and forced me down, disgust dripping from his face.

"Scarlett, Chloe is doing you a favor by letting you serve her! Your hands are already dirty anyway. Pouring her drinks is a privilege! Go scrub them clean first. Don't bring the smell of other men around Chloe!"

He kicked the back of my knees, his voice rising with violent impatience.

"You smile at every random guy all day long. How cheap can you get? Stay away from Chloe from now on. I’m worried you have some kind of disease!"

Fine. We weren't even married yet, and the moment his ex-girlfriend showed up, I became a worthless piece of trash who would sleep with anyone for cash.

I was indeed just a VIP hostess here.

But I never told them that I actually owned the entire skyscraper they were standing in.

"Scarlett, get on your knees and pour the wine."

Chloe sat in the center of the plush leather sofa, her long legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from her fingers.

I had just pushed the door open, carrying a fruit platter, a professional smile still plastered on my face.

Logan sat right beside Chloe, his arm casually draped over her shoulders.

Hearing Chloe’s demand, he didn’t even blink. He simply pointed at the glasses on the coffee table.

"What are you standing there for? Didn't you hear Chloe?"

I set the fruit platter down, forcing down the burning anger in my chest.

"I am the VIP floor manager here, not a bottle girl."

"Floor manager?"

Chloe let out a sharp laugh, blowing a thick cloud of smoke right into my face.

"What a fancy title for a glorified madam. You’ve been hustling in a place like this for eight years. Who are you trying to play pure for?"

Suddenly, she leaned forward and grabbed my wrist.

"Tsk, tsk. These hands. Who knows how many random men have put their hands on them."

Chloe’s eyes filled with sheer disgust. The next second, she slammed her burning cigarette butt onto the back of my hand.

*Sizzle!*

The nauseating smell of burnt flesh immediately filled the air.

An agonizing pain shot straight to my heart.

I jerked my hand back. A black, ugly burn mark was left on my skin, surrounded by angry red swelling.

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

I clutched my hand, glaring at her.

*Slap!*

Logan stood up and slapped me hard across the face.

The force was so strong that my ears rang. I tasted copper as blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.

"Scarlett! How dare you speak to Chloe like that!"

Logan grabbed my collar, dragging me toward the table and shoving my shoulders downward.

"Chloe is doing you a favor! What's wrong with leaving a little mark on you?"

"Your hands are filthy anyway, covered in bacteria and cheap street-smell. Serving Chloe is your privilege!"

I refused to kneel, locking my joints and resisting with everything I had.

Logan raised his foot and kicked me hard in the back of my knees.

*Thud.*

My knees slammed heavily against the cold marble floor. A sharp, cracking pain shot up my legs.

"I told you to kneel! You’ve put yourself in every degrading position imaginable just for a few hundred bucks in tips. Why are you acting like a saint now?"

Logan looked down at me, his eyes devoid of any warmth. There was only irritation and disgust.

"Go scrub yourself clean! Don't bring your filthy stench near Chloe!"

Sitting around them were his old college buddies, all snickering and watching the show.

None of them remembered how I had worked day and night for the past eight years just to fund Logan’s master's degree, his luxury car, and his apartment.

I lifted my head, staring directly into Logan’s eyes.

"Logan, for the past eight years, I paid for everything. The deed to that apartment has your name on it, and the car you drive is registered under your name too."

"And that was your job!"

Logan interrupted me impatiently. "With your background, getting to marry me is like winning the lottery. I don't even complain about how dirty you are, so what's wrong with spending some of your money?"

Chloe giggled, leaning back into Logan’s chest.

"Logan, babe, don't be mad. Maybe she's just not used to serving women. After all, she usually only services men."

She extended her leg, the pointed tip of her red stiletto lifting my chin.

"Lick the spilled wine off the floor, and I might forgive your rudeness."

I looked at the red wine splashed across the floor, now mixed with cigarette ash.

Logan grabbed my hair, forcing my face down toward the puddle.

"Did you hear her? Chloe told you to lick it!"

I spat directly onto his polished leather shoe.

"In your dreams."