Chapter 3

Clarissa,

I groggily opened my eyes and found myself lying in a royal king bed. I felt a dull pain on my forehead as I creased it gently. My vision blurred as I tried opening my eyes, breathing in and out softly. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my palm to help clear my vision.

Just then, I realized I was surrounded by blood. Oh no, I gasp and jerked off the bed cover from my petite body. I was naked! 

Last night was magical, I guess I gasped because it was my first time. After the third round of f***ing in every single damn corner of the room, I slept off.

Aiden was not in bed when I got up. I'm sure he went downstairs to command our food. Isn't he romantic? He was the perfect type every woman needed by their side.

Getting down from the bed to arrange myself seductively before he returned, I mistakenly pushed the bed cover to the floor. While picking it up, a note flew across. I picked it up and went through it. It stated, 'Let's forget this ever happened!' 

"What?!" my eyes widened in shock. My mouth opened agape. To think I had envisioned my life with him. What was I even thinking when I laid with that rich guy? What, marriage? How stupid I was to think he was ever going to want something else with me apart from a one-night stand.

Banging the bed in tears, I blamed and cursed myself for what happened.

Just then, I spotted a 50,000 dollars cheque under the bed cover. Damn, I was actually a one-night stand to him!!!

"Aiden! Aiden! Aiden!" I cursed his name beneath my lips.

I looked at my time and it was 10 am. Holy shit… I was late for work. I quickly took a bath and wore the reserved clothes I had in my bag. No idea of what to do with the cheque, I picked it up and locked it in my bag. Whenever I get the chance to meet him, I'll throw it to his face. I wasn't after him for his money. He was the one who approached me and not the contrary.

I quickly got a cab and the cab driver dropped me in front of Paddy Bio's club; a small clubhouse where I danced. Clammy sweat seems to be sipping down my pores as I witness Mrs. Emma approaching me. Every single step she took sent quivers down my spine.

"Mrs. Emma, I'm s-sorry for coming late." I stammered, at the same time keeping my head lowered. 

'Slap!'

I was taken aback as my head hit the screen of an abandoned car. Her slap was just a gateway to the tears that had been threatening to fall over since. 

"My husband and I make sure you get paid, and all you can do is come to work late?" She said, anger cursing beneath her lips, "Rise from there and go entertain my customers, little whore!" Her last phrase sank deep down in my system, causing tears to erupt down my cheek at a faster pace.

Mrs. Emma hates me because her husband always compared me to her. He always said I would manage a business better compared to his sluggish wife who only takes alcohol and throws herself free of charge to the customers.

Though I refused to ever get intimate with any of the clients at the bar, they still preferred to spend time with me, rather than her who was offering her body to them at a price of nothing.

"Get inside and change those clothes, do you think we are in a church ceremony here?" She said pointedly, her facial expression was full of irritation. I looked down at myself, I was wearing jean trousers, a blue button-down shirt, and low-covered slippers. There's nothing wrong with my dress and it's far from resembling a church dress. Which lady goes to church in jean trousers?

Have always been wearing jean trousers to entertain the clients. Mr. Paddy loved my dressing and never did he for once complain. Why did Mrs. Emma want to ruin things for me?

"Excuse me, Mrs. Emma. Your husband never had a problem with my dressing." I said, my voice growing softer.

"Well, that's his business. We need more customers, so you are going to dress in a way that seduces them. Now, follow me." she stepped ahead to the dressing room, and I sluggishly followed her. She fling a mini white skirt and a black crop top across my face, asking me to wear that and join her shortly.

How the hell was I supposed to wear that? This was literally abusing my body.

I cleared my throat, searching for the right way to address her, "Sorry, Mrs. Emma. But I can't put on these clothes." I straightened my back, saying honestly.

Her lips curled into a smirk, "Then you are free to take your leave." She was still talking. "It's not like you can even dance well, you are just managing. I wonder what my husband sees in you." The reality of life dawned on me.

I didn't even realise it was either I dressed looking like a whore, or I took my belongings and dashed out of the bar.

Tears streamed down my eyes. I looked at the clothes which spread on the bed and I looked at myself. Was I going to put them on?

"You decide now, don't waste my time," Mrs. Emma yelled.

"I will put on the clothes," I said, my voice growing softer.

"Good, did it have to take you that long to answer? The next time you make me waste my energy, I'll hit you before throwing you out of my bar." She growled.

Dressed in the way that pleased her, she sent me on stage to dance for the crowd. Gosh… it's unbelievable, I don't dance on stage. I only lure the customers into buying drinks while shaking my body seductively. It's wrong what she was asking of me. I'm not a strip dancer and don't know if I can even dance making use of a strip.

I climbed on stage just as she said, trying to put the dance into practice. I didn't do it right, which ended the crowd laughing and throwing specks of dirt at me while I was still on stage.

She succeeded in humiliating me, I know that's what she wanted and she got it. On my path, I was very shy, I was so ashamed. She usually does everything to ridicule me, I was supposed to be used to it, but sounds like I'm still afraid.

Even after saying to myself I would no longer be afraid.

Even after striving hard to become a new person.

One of the perverted customers who usually strolled in our bar approached me. He grabbed my butt and tried to squeeze them. I immediately got his hands off my body, growling at him.

"Clarissa, did you forget your job?" Mrs. Emma screamed at me.