VIP room's crystal chandeliers cast a soft, colorful glow, their reflections dancing over the sleek marble tables. The low hum of jazzy music blended with the clink of crystal glasses, creating a symphony of intrigue and secrets.
In the center, James sat with calm authority, a cigarette resting between his lips and a glass of whiskey in hand. His eyes were sharp, scanning every corner, every subtle movement in the room.
The VIP door creaked open. James's gaze instantly locked onto the figure stepping inside.
Daisy.
The second time they met, after that night.
James's lips curled into a faint smirk, his gaze sharp as a hawk's.
She stepped in wearing a crisp black uniform, apron tied neatly around her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a perfect bun, yet her steps carried a subtle tremor, as though each movement bore an invisible weight.
Her eyes stayed down, avoiding the piercing stare that could strip her bare.
The air shifted. Whispers began to ripple through the VIP lounge as the guests watched the long-forgotten pair reunite.
Daisy approached James's table with slow, deliberate steps. She set down a fresh drink before him, her hands trembling ever so slightly. Without looking at him, she simply bowed her head.
James didn't blink. "Daisy."
Her teeth caught her lower lip. No reply. Just a small nod before she began to step back.
Mike, seated across from James, smirked. "Look who it is… the club's Cinderella."
Darcy, draped over James's arm, scoffed. "So… you're James's ex?"
"Don't," James warned, his tone flat and dangerous.
Darcy's eyes scanned Daisy from head to toe, lips curling. "James, this woman isn't worth your attention."
A soft chorus of laughter from Darcy's friends sharpened the tension.
James ignored them. His eyes never left Daisy.
"Come here," he ordered, voice low, eyes glinting with dangerous hunger.
Daisy stepped closer, stopping right in front of James, with Darcy clinging to his side.
The air grew heavier. James's gaze locked on Daisy, but deep down, doubt flickered.
Her eyes were different from the ones he remembered. The fire he once saw in her… was gone. And that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
But anger and disappointment burned hotter, fueled by Mike's constant whispers urging him not to believe her.
James leaned back on the sofa, his eyes cold as ice, voice slicing through the muted hum of the club.
"You left me… because I was poor, didn't you?"
Spreading his legs in a show of dominance, James regarded her with a chilling arrogance.
"Kneel."
His tone was a death sentence.
Daisy obeyed instantly. Of course she did. She was just a waitress, and James… was the owner of this club. Defying him wasn't an option. Not when she needed this job to survive.
James reached into his pocket, pulling out a check. A smirk tugged at his lips as he held it out.
"Your tip. Take it. Crawl." His voice was low, commanding, each word laced with authority.
Daisy froze. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. She wanted to refuse. God, she wanted to.
But the number on that check… one hundred thousand dollars.
Who would say no? Especially when she needed the money this badly.
She lowered herself to the ground, crawling forward to take the money.
James watched, his chest constricting with a storm of emotions. Revenge, loss, and a pain so deep it gnawed at his very core.
Questions swirled in his mind. Why here? Why now, of all places, did they have to meet again?
He smirked, gripping her chin roughly, forcing her face up to his.
"So desperate." His grin was cold, his dark eyes glittering with cruel amusement. "How the mighty have fallen."
Across from him, Mike watched with satisfaction, as though he'd been waiting for James to seize control of the game.
The tension in the VIP room thickened. Every gaze fixed on Daisy, kneeling on the floor. Her body trembling, but her eyes unyielding, refusing to show weakness.
Mike lit his cigarette slowly, a smirk curling his lips.
"Thought you left to get rich," he said lazily. "Turns out you're still the same. Just a nightclub waitress now. At least you can serve drinks to the big boss himself."
Darcy, clinging to James's arm, let out a soft, mocking laugh.
"I never knew James dated someone like her."
Her friends joined in, their laughter filling the room, adding fuel to the fire of humiliation.
James released her chin and lifted his nearly empty glass of whiskey, staring down at her kneeling form.
Daisy stayed silent. Her heart bled, but her lips remained sealed.
"You really are a gold digger," James said, his voice as cold as steel, cutting straight to the bone.
He rose slowly, crossing his arms over his chest, scanning the VIP lounge now buzzing with whispers and judgmental stares.
Daisy lowered her head, tears slipping down her cheeks unnoticed. The silence between them felt louder than any insult.
James's gaze returned to her. Colder now, almost void of mercy.
The thought of her leaving him still haunted him, even after all these years. He had never understood why she left, why she chose to throw him away.
Still kneeling, her face was etched with exhaustion, yet her eyes held a different resolve, not to fight James, but to fight the fate that kept her bound.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" James's voice was sharp as a blade. His hand shot out, gripping her chin once more, forcing her to meet his eyes.
And when their gazes collided… the world outside seemed to disappear.
James saw a storm of unreadable emotions in her eyes, like someone weighed down by something too heavy to carry. Someone tired… worn. But his anger burned hotter, drowning out any trace of sympathy.
Mike and Darcy laughed, their voices fanning the flames, but Daisy stood her ground.
James drew in a deep breath, his voice dropping into something heavier, darker.
"Why did you leave me? Was I not enough back then? Was it just about the money?"
Daisy remained silent, swallowing every insult, every humiliation, carrying alone the burden she'd never spoken of.
He stood, pacing in front of the table while Mike and Darcy's laughter grew louder.
"Ten years, and you show up here now, serving drinks… like nothing ever happened."
Still kneeling, Daisy let the words hang in the air. She didn't raise her head, didn't respond. Her silence cutting deeper than any harsh reply.
Mike sneered. "Well… if you'd never left James, you wouldn't be here. Idiot."
He looked at Daisy with satisfaction.
Darcy nodded. "If I were you, I'd never have left him."
James shot them both a sharp glare to shut them up, but his mind stayed on Daisy.
There was something in her silence that made him more curious… and angrier… but also, deep down, unsettled.
"I'm giving you a chance, Daisy," James said coldly.
She still didn't speak. It wasn't the silence of surrender, it was the silence of someone hiding something. A silence that gnawed at him, making him wonder what she'd been doing these past ten years.
James sank back onto the sofa, spreading his legs and leaning casually against the cushions. But his presence still pressed down on the entire room like a weight.
"Stand," he ordered. One word, but it landed like a gavel.
Slowly, Daisy rose from her kneeling position. Her hands clasped tightly together, her head bowed.
James's gaze swept from head to toe, tracing the outline of her frail, weakened frame. Something about it unsettled him—not pity, but a mix of anger and something he refused to name.
"How long have you been working here?" he asked coldly.
Before Daisy could answer, James turned to the guests in the room.
"Leave us."
Darcy looked like she wanted to say something, but James raised his hand. A silent command that needed no explanation.
Mike stared at James in disbelief. "James? You seriously want to be alone with this girl? Have you lost your mind?"
"Mike." James's voice was flat, his eyes cold.
"Every time I see her, I remember how she left you when you were at your lowest," Mike's tone rose. "Have you forgotten? I've told you over and over—"
"Enough!" James's voice cracked through the air, sharp and unyielding. "This is my business. Not yours."
Mike froze for a moment, his jaw tightening, before striding out without another word. Darcy and the others followed him.
The door closed. Silence.
Only the faint music from outside seeped into the room, pulsing in rhythm with James's heartbeat.
He didn't speak immediately. He just stared at Daisy for a long time, his eyes scanning her like an open book. Reading every movement, every breath.
Daisy kept her head lowered, her fingers trembling slightly. James knew that body language. Fear. Not fear of this place, but fear of him. And strangely, instead of satisfaction… it unsettled him.
Yet his anger overpowered everything else.
He couldn't help himself. She had been his first love, his only love, and the only one who had ever left him without a word. She just… disappeared.
He hated her for it. But deep down, in some dark, stubborn corner of his heart, he still wanted her.
James leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. "So… this is how you survive now?" His voice was low, but each word landed like a slap.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if trying to tame the storm of emotions raging inside him, anger, disappointment, and, for reasons he didn't want to admit… worry.
"Do you have an explanation?"
From the start, James hadn't come here to ask questions. He came to judge. To punish.
But that face. The one he used to love, looked tired now. Her body was thin, fragile. And suddenly… the words caught in his throat.
Daisy fidgeted with her fingers, still avoiding his gaze.
James rose to his feet, towering over her.
A petite girl in a waitress uniform, pale skin, and those once-bright eyes… now dull and lifeless.
He lifted Daisy's chin with two fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze.
James studied every detail. Her tired face hidden beneath layers of makeup.
"Answer me, Daisy," his voice was firm, laced with frustration. "Since that night… I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."
His eyes bore into hers, sharp yet carrying a wound buried deep within.
"Ten years. Ten years you disappeared… and now you suddenly stand in front of me?"
Daisy raised her head slightly, her voice barely a whisper. "I never meant to appear in front of you…" she finally spoke.
James scoffed, a bitter, humorless laugh escaping his lips. "That's your excuse? That it's been ten years?"
"Why did you leave me?" His voice dropped to a growl. "Was I not good enough? Was it because I was poor? Did you think you were too good for me?"
Another laugh, cold and cutting, left him, his grip on her chin tightening. "You left without even giving me an explanation."
Daisy shut her eyes, drawing in a long breath. "Yes," she whispered.
James stared at her, anger and disbelief twisting his features. "So it's true? All this time I thought there was another reason… but in the end, you're just a gold digger. You never really loved me, did you? You were just waiting for someone richer to come along."
He kept her chin firmly in his grasp, forcing her to meet his eyes. Eyes burning with a mixture of hurt, fury, and something else… something he couldn't name.
His grip tightened again, his fingers digging into her skin. "I was such a fool to believe you cared about me."
With a sharp motion, James released her chin and ran a hand through his hair. He hated to admit it, but one thought pierced his mind like a thorn: why wasn't he sure about her answer?
"Leave me. Do your job. And get me a drink… or something."
Daisy nodded quickly, bowing her head before walking out of the room, leaving James alone with a mind full of restless thoughts.