CHAPTER 4

Today marked Daphne's first shift as a waitress at the neon-lit club. Initially, the environment terrified her. She moved like a ghost, paralyzed by the loud thumping bass and the thick smoke.

Eventually, the mechanics of the labor became routine. Taking orders, balancing trays of food, and bussing dirty tables became easy—except for navigating the drunken customers.

"Hey, beautiful," a slurring voice called out, blocking her path. A heavy hand caught her wrist. "Why don't you sit with me? Maybe offer some... extra service? I'll make it worth your while."

Daphne’s chest heaved with sudden, suffocating panic. "I-I'm just a waitress here," she stuttered, her voice trembling as she wrenched her arm free. She slammed a bucket of San Miguel Pilsen onto the sticky table and bolted for the kitchen without looking back.

As the weeks bled together, Mother Lili’s sharp eyes noticed a shift. Daphne had unknowingly become the undisputed apple of every customer's eye. Wealthy men who usually spent their nights in the VIP lounges were suddenly showing up just to watch the girl, their eyes tracking her every move with quiet, predatory fantasy.

"Hey, amiga," Monique gasped, leaning heavily against the bar’s laminate countertop. She flagged down Rose, who was watching Daphne from across the room. "What on earth came into your mind? Why did you put my goddaughter to work in this den of wolves?!"

"What's wrong with it? It's completely temporary," Rose replied defensively, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor.

"Oh, stop it, Rose! Mother Lili might be able to pull the wool over your eyes, but she can't fool me. Can't you see the trap that old witch is laying out for Daphne?!"

Rose turned a fierce, icy glare toward her friend. "What are you implying, Monique? Have you seen my daughter dance? Have you seen her table a customer? No. So shut your mouth."

"I don't know what's wrong with you anymore. Are you just being malicious, or are you genuinely stupid?" Monique let out a heavy, disappointed sigh and walked away, leaving Rose alone with a rising knot of discomfort in her throat.

Meanwhile, a foreigner in his late forties approached the main bar. He wore an expensive tailored suit, his hair slicked back perfectly.

"Are you the person in charge here?" he asked in a deep, husky voice.

Mother Lili stepped forward, nodding with a polished, professional smile. "I am. How can I help you, sir?"

The man didn't waste time. He raised a finger, pointing directly across the chaotic room to where Daphne was busy wiping down a leather booth. "I want that girl. What is her price?"

"Oh, no... you have it wrong, sir," Mother Lili corrected quickly, her eyes darting around. "She’s not on the floor roster. She's just a—"

"You have me wrong," the foreigner interrupted, his tone smooth but unyielding. "I don't want a night with her. I want to marry her. I want her to be my wife. If she comes with me, I will give her an extravagant life of absolute luxury."

Mother Lili’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, a calculative grin slowly spreading across her heavily painted face.

The following afternoon, Mother Lili pulled Rose into her private office, her voice trembling with excitement as she laid out the proposal.

"I am not selling my daughter, Mother Lili!" Rose barked, her hands clenching into fists against her thighs. "You know exactly why she’s working here. It’s to save for her college tuition, not to find some sugar daddy!"

"Who said anything about selling? What a horrific word to use, Rose!" Mother Lili whined, waving her hands defensively. "Think about the bigger picture here. Your daughter will be able to study whatever she wants without ever having to scrub a single floor. And you? You’ll be living like a queen in a massive mansion. Where is your daughter supposed to end up anyway? Eventually, she’s going to get married. This man is older, yes, but he is deadly rich. You’ve hit the jackpot, Rose! What are you so terrified of?!"

Rose stood up abruptly, her breathing shallow. "I’m leaving. And I’m taking my daughter with me," she muttered, turning her back on the manager.

"Hey! Wait! Daphne's shift isn't over for another two hours!" Mother Lili shouted after her.

Rose ignored her, storming out into the main club and nearly colliding with Monique in her haste.

"What happened to her?" Monique asked Mother Lili, watching Rose’s retreating back.

The manager simply shrugged, lighting a fresh cigarette. "I have no idea."

"Come on! We're going home right now," Rose ordered, grabbing Daphne’s arm as she reached the dishwashing station.

"Mom, wait, I still have two hours left on the clock," Daphne protested, looking around in embarrassment. "It’s shameful to leave early."

"Who dictates the rules in this family? You or me?!" Rose hissed, her eyes wild with a strange, frantic anger. Daphne instantly fell silent and obeyed, following her mother out into the blinding afternoon sun.

Two days passed. Rose refused to let Daphne step foot near the club, locking her inside the house. Day and night, Rose paced the small living room, her mind locked in a violent, exhausting debate. She kept trying to convince herself that Mother Lili’s suggestion was a gift from God.

A good life was waiting for her daughter. Real luxury. Security.

She conjured up the image of the wealthy foreigner. He was handsome for his age, well-spoken, and didn't seem like a bad person. Surely, this was better than Daphne ending up like her.

"Mr. Bolat, this is my daughter, Daphne," Rose introduced them in a quiet, upscale restaurant booth she had arranged through Mother Lili. She nudged the teenager sharply in the ribs. "Show some respect, Daphne. Greet him."

Daphne stood perfectly still, looking petrified. She felt a cold, inexplicable dread pooling in her stomach. Slowly, she bowed her head and tentatively extended a trembling hand for a handshake, unable to look the older man in the eyes.

"He is going to provide for your studies, Daphne. Everything you could ever need," Rose explained quickly, her voice tight and forced. "You never have to step foot in the club again. You can buy anything you want. Don't you want that, sweetheart?"

Daphne didn't say a single word. She kept her chin tucked against her chest, her fingers frantically twisting and knotting together in her lap as she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

"You are truly beautiful. I like you very much," Mr. Bolat murmured, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction as a broad smile stretched across his face.

Bam.

The restaurant door flew open. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Rose?!"

Daryl marched into the private section, his face flushed with pure, unbridled fury. Before anyone could react, he grabbed Rose and Daphne by their wrists, dragging them out of the booth.

"Just a moment, Mr. Bolat! I am so sorry!" Rose yelled over her shoulder, trying to break free from Daryl's iron grip as he hauled them out into the alleyway behind the restaurant.

"What is your goddamn problem?!" Rose shrieked the moment they reached the pavement, fighting to hold back a scream. Daphne’s wall finally broke, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. This was the first time Daryl had ever violently intervened in Rose's business.

"What am I doing? What the hell are you doing?!" Daryl roared, his chest heaving.

"I am securing my daughter’s future, Daryl! Who the hell are you to interfere in our lives?!" Rose fired back, her eyes flashing with a sharp, defensive venom.

"For her future?! With that old man?!" Daryl’s voice dropped into a dark, disgusted growl. "Can you even hear the garbage coming out of your mouth, Rose? Are you asleep? Are you trapped in a nightmare?! Don't you love your own daughter? That man is a predator, Rose! Wake up! Look at me! You are about to utterly destroy Daphne's life!"

Rose’s expression twisted into something monstrous, her own buried trauma exploding to the surface. "Her life will be perfect! I love my daughter, and that is exactly why I am doing this, Daryl! If your pathetic, broke self can't see that, then that is your problem! Do not drag us down into your miserable, messy life!"

"Mother... Papa Daryl... What’s happening?" Daphne sobbed openly, her young mind finally piecing together the horrific reality of what her mother was trying to arrange.

"Daphne, listen to me, kiddo... you are not going with that man, do you hear me?" Daryl pleaded, his voice breaking as he reached out to the terrified teenager. "I am getting you out of here right now. Come on..."

"Let go of my daughter!" Rose screamed, shoving him back.

The screaming caught the attention of the restaurant staff, and Monique, who had followed Daryl out of suspicion, rushed into the alleyway.

"Daphne! Sweetheart, come to your godmother right now!" Monique yelled, opening her arms. Daphne immediately bolted toward her, buried her face in Monique's shoulder, and wept.

"You! You brought him here, Monique! You’re the one behind this sabotage!" Rose accused, pointing a shaking finger at her friend.

Monique’s mouth dropped open, her eyebrows knitting together in absolute disbelief and sorrow. "Why are you automatically blaming me, Rose? Even if I hadn't said a word to Daryl, gossip in that club has wings and a mouth! Look at yourself! Look at what you are planning to do to your own flesh and blood!"

Monique tightened her grip around Daphne, staring at Rose with profound pity. "For the love of God, Rose... have some fear of God."