CHAPTER 7: JUST A BET

VERONICA POV

…

“This uniform is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever worn,” I mutter, tugging uselessly at the hem of the tiny skirt.

Diana glances up from her phone and gives me a gentle once-over. “Stop. You’re overreacting. Honestly? It actually looks so good on you. It… brings out your figure.”

I stare at her, eyebrows raised. “Really, Diana? This?”

She softens, stepping closer. “You’re doing it for Dad. Remember?”

I exhale through my nose, shoulders dropping. “You’re right. I know.”

“You better get going,” she says quietly, “or you’ll be late for your first day.”

My stomach twists. “I’m so anxious, Diana. Never in my life did I imagine myself working in a bar… and in this? It still doesn’t feel real.”

She tilts her head. “What part doesn’t feel real?”

I gesture at myself helplessly. “You’re telling me that waiting tables in a club will earn me enough in less than a month to pay for Dad’s surgery?”

Diana reaches out and squeezes my arm. “Veronica… don’t overthink it. Just go. One day at a time, okay?”

I nod, throat tight. “Fine.”

I’m almost at the door when she calls after me. “Wait!”

I roll my eyes but turn back. “What now? I’m already late.”

She grins, practically bouncing. “I almost forgot to tell you!”

My eyes widen, hoping for something good.

“Chill, girl.” She laughs. “Remember when I said I finally set up my gig on Upwork?”

“Yeah…?”

“I finally got a client!” she squeals, jumping a little on her toes. “An Italian woman. She needs graphic and web design work, and she’s willing to pay two hundred bucks per job!”

My mouth falls open. I can’t help it—I jump too. “Oh my God, Diana!”

“I know!” She’s beaming, eyes shining. “It’s finally happening. And whatever I make… it’ll help with Dad’s bills too.”

“Your web3 knowledge isn’t going to waste after all,” I say, laughing through the sudden tightness in my chest.

“Exactly.” She wipes at her eyes quickly. “Told you Dad makes terrible career suggestions. I always knew the medical field was a terrible fit for me. Now I can prove it to him.”

I pull her into a quick hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

She squeezes me back. “Go kill it today, okay? And don’t forget to drop lunch off for Mom at the bakery. She’s been stress-eating pastries like crazy.”

“I won’t forget.”.

She’s already back on her phone, fingers flying, but she calls after me, “Do a great job, sis. I’m proud of you.”

I’m standing at the bus stop, waiting for a cab. I can feel eyes on me—of course I can. The crop top is tiny, barely covering anything, my cleavage is on full display, and the skirt is so short I keep tugging at it uselessly.

A cab finally pulls up. I give him the address and slide in. My heart won’t stop hammering the whole ride.

The bar is farther than I expected.

When I arrive, I force a smile for the staff. Madam Heart—the bar manager—greets me like I’m an old friend.

“I’m so excited you’re here,” she says warmly, patting my shoulder.

I managed a real smile this time. “Me too, ma’am. Thank you for giving me a chance. I promise I’ll make you proud.”

She beams. Then her gaze shifts past me. “Looks like your first customers just walked in. Good luck, sweetheart.”

I sigh and turn to greet the customers but then I freeze when I see who was coming amongst them.

Jason.

I spin back around so fast my skirt flares, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Behind me, one of his friends—Leo, I’m pretty sure—is laughing. “…so I was fucking her with a condom, right? She pulls it off, says she likes it raw. Now the bitch is pregnant and I’m not ready for that shit.”

I roll my eyes. Classic Leo. Kiss-and-tell since high school.

I can’t hide forever. This job is for Dad. They don’t get to make me feel small.

I take a slow breath, square my shoulders, and walk to their table.

I clear my throat. “Good day. What would you like to order?”

Jason looks up. His eyes widen for half a second before his mouth curves into that familiar smirk.

His friends burst out laughing.

“Woah—look who’s a call girl now,” Jason drawls. “Moni really needs to see this.”

He pulls out his phone and starts recording.

Instinctively, I slap my palm over the lens. “Please. That’s against bar policy. Just… place your order.”

More laughter.

“Who gave a call girl the right to talk to us like that?” one of them sneers. “Even touching your phone with her filthy hands?”

“I’m a waitress,” I say evenly. “Not a call girl.”

Jason leans back. “Just bring us each a bottle of vodka. Make it quick.”

I nod, tap the order into the iPad, and walk away. Their laughter follows me.

“Of course my first day starts like this,” I mutter, rubbing my hand over my face.

Five minutes later, I carry the tray back and set the bottles down carefully.

Leo’s eyes rake over me. “I like this stripper fit on you. How about you pull it off completely. Let’s see what’s underneath.”

His fingers graze my thigh.

I jerk back, skin crawling. “Please don’t touch me.”

“Oh come on, Veronica…” He smirks. “Aren’t you just a thing to satisfy men’s desires?”

Another friend chimes in, grinning. “Now come suck my dick. There’s hardly anyone here right now—come swallow my cum.” He pauses, then adds with a laugh, “I mean my babies… hahaha,” as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever said.

I press my lips tight.

Jason just sits there, watching, his lips curved like he’s enjoying the show. Jason would’ve knocked anyone out for talking to me like that. Now? Nothing.

Leo leans forward. “Okay, let’s make this easy. I’ll give you fifteen thousand bucks if you take one shot of this vodka—no reaction on your face.”

My mouth drops open. “What?”

“You heard me, call girl.” He pulls a thick bundle of cash from his pocket and slams it on the table. “Drink one shot. This is yours.”

Fifteen thousand. That’s more than I’d make here in months. For one shot? In this job I’d be lucky to clear two thousand a month. Plus, Diana and I used to do lime challenges as kids—no face, no matter how sour.

I exhale slowly. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

He pours the vodka. I lift the shot glass, tip it back, and force the burn down my throat. My eyes water, but I keep my expression blank. They cheer and chant like I’m performing a talent show.

I slam the empty glass down.

“Look who’s a good girl,” Leo laughs, sliding the money toward me.

I snatch it fast.

In the next second, Jason’s hand clamps around my wrist—hard—and yanks me away from the table.

“Where are you taking me?” I demand, stumbling to keep up.

He doesn’t answer. His friends jeer after him, catcalling and shouting that he’s a total party pooper.

He drags me outside, then finally releases me with a rough shove.

“Ow,” I snap, rubbing my wrist. “That hurt.”

“You look fucking ridiculous in there,” he growls. “Why do you always have to choose to be a slut in every situation?”

I roll my eyes so hard my head aches. “Why do you even care? You’ve got Moni now. This is my private business—I can do whatever I want.”

“You’re still mine, Veronica. Always mine. I never officially ended things.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s hilarious, Jason. Please let me go—I don’t want my boss seeing me out here during work hours. And for the record, I’m not yours.”

“Fine,” he snarls. “Be a whore all you want. Spread your legs for every man you meet. That’s all you’re good for anyway.”

His friends spill out behind him then.

One of them grins. “Does she finally know she’s just a bet?”

My brows knit together. “What ? A bet?”

Leo snickers. “Oh… busted.”

“What the hell do you mean?” My voice cracks despite myself.

Jason shoots Leo a warning look. “She wasn't supposed to find out this way, bruh.”

Leo shrugs, unbothered. “Jason didn’t tell you? The whole five years—you were just a bet. And if you agree to be his mistress, that’s another round. He wins a Cybertruck from the friend group.”

My heart stops. Everything tilts.

“I was… a bet?” My voice comes out small, breaking. “Five years, Jason. Five years I gave you everything—and it was just a fucking bet?”

Tears burn behind my eyes, then spill over before I can stop them. “What did I ever do to you? You deceived me for five whole years?”

Jason opens his mouth—probably some slick comeback—but nothing comes out. His friends are still laughing behind him, catcalling like this is some sort of entertainment.

A sharp honk cuts through the air.

I glance back. A sleek black Bugatti idles at the curb, engine low and smooth.

The driver steps out—Luca.

My stomach drops when I see the stranger from last night in the back seat. His window is down just enough. His eyes lock on mine, calm but intense.

“Get in, Veronica.”

I freeze. Wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

“I won’t repeat myself,” he says, voice low and firm. “Get in.”

I slide into the back seat. Luca closes the door behind me with a soft, final click. The windows are still down.

I take one quick look back at Jason through the open glass. His face has gone white, eyes wide, locked on the stranger. His mouth opens as if he can’t find words.

“Dad…?” he whispers, barely audible.

My stomach twists.

“Did you just call him Dad?”