Lilian's POV
Doran's voice cut through the VIP room like a blade. "Well, well, look who we have here. Our fallen princess, Lilian Sterling. Though I suppose you're not much of a princess anymore, are you?"
His eyes swept over my staff uniform with obvious relish. "I honestly thought you were slumming it for kicks. But this is real, isn't it? You're actually working here."
The entire room erupted in cruel laughter. Every face turned toward me, hungry for entertainment at my expense. My knuckles went white as I gripped the service cart harder, forcing myself to breathe steadily through my nose.
So much for staying invisible tonight. They'd spotted me, and now they wanted blood.
Fine. If running wasn't an option, I'd face this head-on. Maybe I could salvage something from this disaster. With debt collectors circling our house like vultures, Dad talking about surrender, Mom crying herself to sleep every night, and Gavin destroying his health with endless delivery shifts, what did pride matter anymore?
I wheeled the cart toward their cluster of designer suits and practiced smiles, painting on my most professional expression even though my face felt like cracking plastic.
"What a surprise running into you all here," I said, injecting false brightness into my voice. "Since we're old friends, how about some support? Order something expensive and remember to tip your server."
Doran made that disgusting clicking sound with his tongue, shaking his head like I was some pitiful creature. "Tsk, tsk."
This was the same pathetic little worm who used to trail after Gavin and me like a lost puppy, desperate for any crumb of attention we'd throw his way. Now that my family had crashed and burned, he was practically salivating at the chance to play king of the hill. Every fiber of my being wanted to slap that smug expression clean off his face.
But cash trumped pride these days. So I held my smile in place and waited.
Doran leaned forward with theatrical concern dripping from every word. "My God, is this really the same Lilian Sterling who wouldn't even acknowledge our existence before? How completely you've fallen."
Another round of vicious laughter rippled through the group.
Then Shawn, one of Augusto' regular sycophants, stepped forward with a leer that made my skin crawl. "You mentioned support, sweetheart. What kind of support are we talking about? The traditional kind, right? Come on, give us a little preview. We need to know you're worth our investment."
My fingers tightened around the champagne bottle until I thought it might shatter. I glanced toward Augusto, sitting there with his cigarette like some untouchable prince, acting as if he couldn't hear the disgusting garbage spilling from his friends' mouths. Or maybe he simply didn't care.
I focused on arranging bottles on the counter, keeping my voice level. "You're misunderstanding me. I'm talking about premium drinks. For old times' sake, order the expensive stuff and help me earn some commission."
Doran's laugh was sharp and ugly. "God, you really are desperate, aren't you?" He slammed a bank card onto the marble surface. "Ten thousand dollars. Right there. Get down on your hands and knees, crawl to me, and beg. Do that, and it's yours."
The room exploded into whoops and catcalls. Every eye locked onto me, waiting for my reaction like I was some gladiator in their private arena.
Even Augusto was watching now. His face revealed nothing, but those dark eyes seemed to see straight through me.
I stood frozen, staring at the card. Then Shawn threw his own card down beside Doran's with a flourish. "Let's make this interesting. Thirty thousand. Beg us properly and spend the night entertaining our group. Then you walk away rich."
The words hit me like ice water. Sure, my family was ruined, but as far as Shawn knew, I was still Augusto' wife. How could he dare say something so vile right in front of my supposed husband?
Unless Augusto had already announced our divorce. Unless he'd made it crystal clear that he despised me now, giving them free rein to treat me like garbage.
"What's the matter?" Shawn taunted, his voice thick with mockery. "I thought you needed money. If you can't handle this, what are you even doing here? This is easy money. How many johns would you need to make this much on the street?"
I was broke. I was desperate. I would swallow my pride if necessary. But I still had boundaries, and the look on his face made me physically ill.
I grabbed the thirty thousand dollar card and hurled it back at him. "You think one night costs that little? If you're feeling so generous, show me what you're really worth."
I knew Shawn inside and out. He was all bluster and no substance. Broke, lazy, and famously cheap. He used to constantly borrow money from Gavin and me, never buying his own girlfriend anything decent. Getting real money out of him was like squeezing blood from a stone. For him to throw around cash just to humiliate me meant his hatred ran deeper than I'd realized. Made me wonder if I'd been that terrible to him before.
The room howled with amusement. "Damn, Shawn, you're so cheap. Thirty grand for our former princess? Have some class, man."
Shawn's face turned purple with rage. He shot me a look of pure venom. "Honestly, I think that's overpaying."
Ignoring his glare, I picked up Doran's ten thousand dollar card and met his eyes. "So you're serious about this offer? I get on my knees and beg, and this money becomes mine?"
Doran looked like he'd been caught in a trap of his own making. Like Shawn, he was mostly hot air and empty pockets. That ten grand was probably every cent he had to his name.
He squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly much less confident. "Come on, Lilian. We all know how proud you are. You'd never actually go through with it. Stop playing games." He reached for the card.
I pulled my hand back, keeping the card just out of reach. "I'm not playing games. Begging for ten thousand dollars sounds like excellent pay to me."
Doran's face darkened with frustration. He stared at the card like it was burning a hole in his wallet.
Shawn, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with excitement. "Then quit stalling. Let's see it. Get down on all fours and show us how desperate you really are."
My pride was already dead and buried. All I could see were the debt collectors' threatening faces, Mom's red-rimmed eyes, Dad's defeated expression, and Gavin slowly killing himself with overwork. I took a shaking breath. "Alright."
I started lowering myself toward the floor, but suddenly a strong hand clamped around my elbow, stopping me cold. Startled, I looked up into Augusto' burning gaze. My heart nearly stopped.
His voice was deadly quiet but carried absolute authority. "Everyone out. Now."
The room cleared like magic. Those spoiled rich kids scrambled for the exit without a backward glance. Doran grabbed his ten thousand dollar card on his way out, naturally.
Augusto fixed me with that intense stare. "That desperate for money?"
I jerked my arm free and stepped back. "Let's not pretend you don't know exactly how desperate, Mr. Atlas."
After my family's spectacular collapse, our debts were common knowledge throughout the city. He knew perfectly well what we were facing.
"Mr. Atlas?" He gave a low, dark chuckle, like he was tasting my use of his formal name.
I had no idea what was running through his mind, and frankly didn't care to find out. I gestured toward the bar setup. "Your drinks are ready. If you're satisfied with the service, tips are appreciated."
He just stood there watching me, his expression completely unreadable.
I managed a brittle smile and turned to leave, expecting nothing.
"Three and a half million," he said suddenly.
I froze mid-step, spinning around to stare at him. "What did you say?"
Augusto moved closer until I could feel the heat radiating from his body, his eyes boring into mine. "I said three and a half million dollars. For one night. With me."