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Chapter One
Fabiola's POV
"Nice ass," he grinned, showing a gold tooth as his hand brushed my hip, nearly touching my butt. This time, he didn't pretend it was an accident. I glared at him. He smirked. My hands trembled uncontrollably. I took a deep breath.
Music burst through the speakers like a broken dam, and lights pulsed in every color. The air was thick with the scents of perfume, sweat, and alcohol. It was a normal day at the club—a normal day with asshole male customers.
“Are you crazy?” I hissed.
"Come on, sweetheart, don't be shy," he drawled, his fingers tapping the table like a countdown. Oh gosh, if my eyes were guns, he’d be dead.
He chuckled. He stretched his hand toward my face. “Don’t be—” I slapped his hand away. He began to laugh.
I grabbed the tray off the table and immediately walked away.
I ground my teeth. On the inside, I was an erupting volcano. I promised myself that I would defend myself the next time. But here I was being a coward. I let out a deep breath.
Bright lights danced in my eyes as I walked back to the counter, disappearing into the washing area. I used my other hand to hold the shaking one in place. My heart was racing. My hands were sweaty. I itched to smack him across the face, but I was scared.
The consequences would be grave. The club was not a human rights group. Especially with a boss like Mariano. To him, everyone was a customer. And he always says the customer was ALWAYS right. Yeah right. That would definitely come from a person who has no ass or boobs to be grabbed.
I was wiping down some glasses when I heard the door creak open.
"Hey, Chica."
I looked up. Isabella was leaning against the door, a sad smile on her face. I sighed. She saw everything play out.
"Hey, Isa," I mumbled, returning to the wiping. She walked over to me and grabbed a towel, and began to clean some glasses. She didn’t talk. I waited for her to. I had already prepared a fake smile and beautiful speech on how good I felt.
I dropped a glass and picked another.
“Rough night?” she said without looking at me. I sighed.
“Something like that,” I muttered, looking back at the glass. We worked in absolute silence.
“You know you don’t have to do this alone?” she said. I looked up from the glass and raised an eyebrow.
“Do what?”
Isabella dropped the towel and faced me. “I saw what happened.”
I blinked. “Oh… I’m fine, really,” I said as I began to smile, and all it took was her full-on glare, and I knew I was fighting a lost battle.
I dropped the towel and sat on a crate. “Honestly, Isa, I’m tired.” She came and sat beside me.
“I understand, babe.” I turned to her. Isabella was the last person I expected to sit beside me. When I started at the club, she was the least welcoming. She didn’t say a word to me for weeks.
I chuckled. “Are you having a rough day like mine?”
She shook her head. “But I know what it feels like.” She paused, and I looked. “I mean, we were all rookies in the club.” She gave me a reassuring smile. Isabella grabbed my hand and squeezed. I looked down at our hands and back to her face. “You don’t have to shoulder everything, Fab.”
Tears stung in my eyes. It felt like she was my elder sister, though I was the older one.
“Can I hug you?” I croaked.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Isabella opened her arms, and immediately, I threw my arms around her. Tears fell from my eyes as I wept like a baby. I was no soldier after all. I was just a girl who wanted to make a living for her loved ones. My baby Sienna.
We stayed like that for a while, and then I remembered we were at work.
“You should go back to work,” I sniffed as soon as I pulled apart.
Isabella helped me wipe my tears. “Alright, Fab. Tell me which table the pig was in. I’ll take over from there.”
I snapped my eyes up at her. “You will do that?”
She beamed. “Sure.”
I told her, and she left the room. As I continued to clean the glasses, with a big smile on my face, I could not help but feel relief. Suddenly, I stopped. The room was suddenly quiet. Devoid of the thumping sounds from the party outside. I looked up and caught my reflection in a glass. Tired eyes stared right back at me.
My eyes watered. The other day, Maria asked me why I put up with this job. In her words, she said, This place eats people alive. A memory came to mind. One where Sienna was crying and asking me to make the pain stop. I couldn’t do shit. I had no money. Why? The man Dad had borrowed money from before he died, took the little we had from Mum. I was left with nothing but a child in tears. All I could do was beg and cry. No one listened to me. The feeling of utter helplessness.
No. I don’t want to feel that way again.
The door clicked shut again, and I glanced over my shoulder. “Are you done for the night?” I said, recognizing Isabella before she spoke.
“Just one more round,” she said, leaning on a shelf. “You should’ve seen the guy at table 3 trying to flirt with the ice bucket.”
I laughed, shaking my head while dipping another glass in water. “Next, he could start professing his love to his glass.”
Isabella smiled. “At this point, if we put his brain in a bird, I bet it’s going to fly backwards.”
I burst into laughter. “Oh my God, Isa, you’re terrible,” and so she told me some other stories that had me laugh hard. We talked for a while, my cheeks ached from smiling before she left. Isabella was savage. She just made my day.
Then the door opened again.
“Did you forget something, Isa?” I said without looking up. Weirdly, she didn’t reply.
I glanced up and froze.
It was Mariano. His dark eyes glared at me. “Slacking off as usual?”
I swallowed. “Uh… no, sir. It’s that one customer had touched my—“
“Save it, Fabiola,” he spat. “You have a customer to serve in the VIP section.” He slammed the door shut. I let out a deep breath. When will all this stop?
So I carried some drinks and made my way to the VIP section. It was quieter. This is the part of the club I liked the most. For its quietness. But as I made my way to the specific area of this customer, I couldn’t help but notice the odd stuff there. There were no bouncers around.
It didn’t make it better that there was no one seated on the plush cushion. I dropped the drink, and as soon as I felt a presence behind me, I leaped to my feet.
My eyes widened in horror. This pig again.
“Hello, beautiful,” the man with the gold teeth murmured, his lips curled in a way that made my stomach twist. My heart faltered.
“We meet again,” he chuckled. Before I could move, he grabbed my arm, and in a matter of minutes, I was in his arms. His grip was like steel, his breath hot and foul in my ear. I struggled to be free from his grip, but it was useless. My heart was pounding in my ears.
“Let go of me!” Strength from nowhere came, and I shoved him as hard as I could. The drinks crashed to the floor, and I bolted for the door. He grabbed me by the hair.
“Aarrghhhh!!!” I screamed. I could feel my hair leaving my scalp.
“Come back here,” he barked. In that tussle, all I could picture was my Sienna. Her cries. Her pain. She would cry herself to sleep if something happened to me. In that moment, I prepared for the worst. I was ready to do anything not to be a victim. I sighted a broken bottle.
“You stand no chance, you s—“
“Don’t,” a low voice growled. The man froze, and so was the grip on my hair. He let go, and I crashed to the floor. Before I could blink, he was gone. Vanished like smoke.
I stayed there for a moment, catching my breath, fighting back tears, until a polished black Italian shoe stepped into my view. It was sleek leather, mirror-shined. It screamed of nothing but wealth.
I sprang to my feet.
“Thank you s—“I started, wiping dirt off my dress. Then I looked up. And froze.
Those icy blues.
My breath hitched.
No way. It… it can’t be.
He stared at me with deadpan eyes… and walked away.
Chapter FiveFabiola’s POVI froze.Was he awake? But he just spoke. Does he sleep talk? I held my breath as I watched Alessandro slowly sit up, and I sat back on the bed, wrapping my arms around me, giving him as much distance as possible. My eyes went wide as he began to stare at me. I quickly looked away.“Erm… is.. is this your bedroom?” I muttered.“Isn’t it obvious?” I stole a glance at him and saw that he rolled his eyes. He was staring at a picture of himself by the bed. I swallowed. He was grumpy. I take it he was not a morning person. My heart was pounding. I clutched the sheets tighter to my chest. What do I do now? What do I say now? Did we… did I…I tried to steal another look, and we locked gaze. I quickly looked away. It felt like the duvet around my body was now made of embarrassment. Alessandro chuckled.“I took your clothes off,” Alessandro drawled. My face went bright red. What!“Oh… okay,” I muttered, unable to look him in the face while clutching the blanket tight
Chapter FourFabiola’s POVDespite the loud music, the many celebrities, the beautiful women strutting around, and the fact that my old colleagues from the club were gazing at me, all I could feel was his stare. I felt like the ground should open up and swallow me.At some point, it was like a blanket over my shoulder. There was no way I was going to avoid it. No matter how long I stayed, so long as I turned around, I would find Alessandro’s eyes on me. As if that was not enough, his staring was so obvious that the others would stare in my direction.He stared more when I had to talk to unknown people; he would nod in my direction, and these gossip mongers in the guise of my old friends and colleagues would hang around to hear more gossip.To my surprise, I found out Alessandro Armani was the 10th richest man in the country and one of the youngest. I guess that was why I was being glared at by some ladies at the other end of the party.I took in a deep breath and a sip of my drink. Th
Chapter ThreeFabiola’s POVI scooted to the other end of the chair as if it would reduce the distance between us. He opened his eyes, and I swallowed."Aless…Alessandro," I muttered. My hands shook greatly. I used the other one to hold it in place. "Wha…What are you doing in…in town?" I swallowed. My attempt to sound lackadaisical was failing woefully. And since when did I become a stammerer? I tried to crack a smile, but it felt like it would slice my face in half.A flicker of irritation glossed through his face as he uncrossed his legs, then he turned to me. "3 years, Fabiola," he said softly. "3 whole years since we’ve last seen each other, and that is what you ask me?"I swallowed again, staring at my hands. Suddenly, I felt like a child caught stealing, hands in a cookie jar. His smooth voice and his calm demeanor unnerved me. The Alessandro I knew would have been raging by now.All I could look at were my hands. I was tired of the fear all night. My feet hurt, and I badly want
Chapter TwoFabiola’s POVMy hands trembled as I stacked the glasses. My heart clenched hard. Was my mind playing tricks on me or what?Alessandro?Was that him? I shook my head vehemently as if that would make his face disappear from my head. Gone was the happy face he had. It was replaced with a deep scowl. He looked macho and… and wealthy. Where did all that money come from?“Fabiola?” I flinched and immediately turned around.“Yes,” all I could manage was a whisper.Isabella gave me an odd look. Pity or care. I couldn’t say which one it was.“You okay?”I plastered a grin on. “Yeah, yeah. It’s just that I’m a little tired.”“Hmmm,” Isabella raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” she smiled. While something told me she didn’t believe me, I didn’t want to prove myself any further. The longer we talked, the more likely I was to blurt out my problems to her. Isabella hugged me, said goodbye, and walked out the door. Of course, she told me to finish up quickly and go home. I never knew she was a t
Chapter OneFabiola's POV"Nice ass," he grinned, showing a gold tooth as his hand brushed my hip, nearly touching my butt. This time, he didn't pretend it was an accident. I glared at him. He smirked. My hands trembled uncontrollably. I took a deep breath.Music burst through the speakers like a broken dam, and lights pulsed in every color. The air was thick with the scents of perfume, sweat, and alcohol. It was a normal day at the club—a normal day with asshole male customers.“Are you crazy?” I hissed."Come on, sweetheart, don't be shy," he drawled, his fingers tapping the table like a countdown. Oh gosh, if my eyes were guns, he’d be dead.He chuckled. He stretched his hand toward my face. “Don’t be—” I slapped his hand away. He began to laugh.I grabbed the tray off the table and immediately walked away.I ground my teeth. On the inside, I was an erupting volcano. I promised myself that I would defend myself the next time. But here I was being a coward. I let out a deep breath.







