CHAPTER 3

Three years had passed, and Rose found herself pregnant by a Turkish customer named Ferit Yildiz. Among the endless stream of wealthy men at the club, Ferit had been different. He whispered sweet promises of a luxurious life, swearing he would marry her and take her away to Turkey. But the moment the pregnancy test turned positive, Ferit vanished without a trace, leaving Rose with nothing but an expanding belly and a shattered illusion.

"Mom! Mom!"

Rose's agonizing scream tore through the small house as a sharp, blinding wave of pain ripped across her abdomen.

"What on earth is all that racket?!" her mother grumbled, shuffling into the room. She froze when she saw Rose writhing on the bed, her face a pale, sweating mask of agony.

"It’s coming... the baby is coming! Ah!" Rose screamed, clutching her stomach.

"Wait—shit! What am I supposed to do?!" Panic seized her mother. Instead of helping, she bolted from the room and frantically dialed the only man she knew would answer.

"What's wrong?!" Daryl’s voice crackled through the receiver, heavy with immediate worry. "Hold on, I'm on my way!"

In less than fifteen minutes, a taxi screeched to a halt outside. "Man, just keep the meter running," Daryl told the driver before throwing the door open and rushing into the house.

"Mom! What the hell is this animal doing here?!" Rose gasped through clenched teeth the moment she saw Daryl burst into her bedroom. It had been two years since she brutally cut him out of her life. She had caught him in bed with another woman—a betrayal that cut so deep because it happened right around the time she discovered her own pregnancy.

"Just breathe, Rose," Daryl said softly. Ignoring her venom, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the house. Her mother scurried behind them, quickly hopping into the backseat of the taxi.

"How can I breathe?! You're a disgusting animal! I told you I never wanted to see your shameless face again!" Rose shrieked, striking his chest as the taxi accelerated.

"That's right, just keep yelling. Scream at me if it helps dull the pain," Daryl replied quietly from the front passenger seat, sweat pooling on his forehead despite the blast of the vehicle's air conditioner.

"For God's sake, Maria Rose, shut your mouth!" her mother sneered from the backseat. "Only one random woman has ever tasted Daryl. Compare that to you, who has been passed around by every wealthy man in the city!"

"Mom! You don't know a damn thing, so stay out of it! Ah!!!!" Rose howled, a massive contraction bending her double.

Daryl gripped the dashboard, his voice trembling. "Step on it, please, driver. Hurry."

While Rose's mother sat scrolling on her phone in the waiting room, Daryl paced the sterile hospital hallway, his boots squeaking against the linoleum. Minutes bled into hours until a nurse finally opened the delivery room doors and signaled them inside.

"The baby is a healthy little girl, sir," the nurse announced with a warm smile. She looked at Daryl, who was standing stiffly at the edge of the room, too hesitant to approach the bassinet.

"He's not the father," Rose cut in coldly from the hospital bed.

The nurse’s smile faltered in embarrassment. Realizing the thick tension in the room, she quickly gathered her clipboards and escorted the doctor out, leaving the family alone.

"Stop it, Maria Rose," her mother hissed, crossing her arms. "Where else is the father? Do you see any other man standing by your side besides Daryl?"

"Get this shameless traitor out of my sight. Now!" Rose’s voice vibrated with pure rage.

Daryl backed away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'll head out first, Mom. Just call me if you need anything else."

As he turned to leave, Rose's mother quickly slipped out into the hallway after him, shutting the heavy door behind them. Daryl lingered near the water cooler, looking down at his worn shoes.

"Daryl, wait," the old woman whispered, her eyes gleaming with calculation.

"Yes, Mom?"

"What's the situation? I assume you've saved up a little something? We need to settle the additional hospital fees before they let her discharge."

"Ah, yes. Of course there is," Daryl said, a look of relief washing over his face. He reached deep into his jacket. "I've been keeping this stash for a long time. It was always meant for Rose’s delivery."

He handed her a thick, rubber-banded roll of pesos.

"Oh, you really are one of a kind," the old lady cooed, greedily pocketing the cash. "You truly love my daughter, don't you? Does this mean you're willing to adopt my granddaughter too?"

"I would do absolutely anything for Rose, Mom," Daryl confessed, his eyes wide and sincere. "I love her with everything I have. That night two years ago... I was completely drunk and in a terrible headspace. I made a horrific mistake with a random girl, and I ruined everything."

"Oh, you don't need to explain yourself to me, Daryl. You’re practically my own son," she said, patting his shoulder with a practiced comfort. "I know exactly where your resentment toward my daughter comes from. But I just hope you understand that she has a responsibility to provide for us as her family."

Six years flew by, and little Daphne started school. She grew into a remarkably bright, joyful child.

Because of her distinct features, Daphne often drew stares from the other kids—she had inherited her Turkish father’s striking green eyes. Unfortunately, those eyes also made her the prime target for the neighborhood mothers' vicious gossip. The whispers were always the same: she was just the bastard child of a club prostitute's temporary customer.

Those cruel rumors followed Daphne like a shadow, hardening into a quiet insecurity by the time she reached the 12th grade.

To keep food on the table, Rose had returned to the club shortly after giving birth. While Daryl consistently stepped up to act as Daphne's devoted father figure, Rose's younger brother had also grown into a supportive, protective uncle.

"Mom, the new academic year is starting soon," Daphne mentioned one evening, setting the table. "Aren't you going to enroll me yet?"

"What school are you talking about?" Rose replied flatly, not looking up from her phone. "You already know how to read and write. It’s a miracle you even graduated from Grade 12. Come to your senses, Daphne. It’s time for you to start working."

"But Mom... I want to go to college. I want to build a real career."

Rose sighed heavily. "Fine. If you can find a way to pay for it yourself, go ahead. But enough of this nonsense for tonight."

Daphne looked down at her hands, a heavy lump forming in her throat.

The next evening, Monique intercepted Rose the moment she walked into the dressing room. "Rose, Mommy Lili wants to see you in her office right now."

Rose knocked and stepped inside. The club manager didn't waste any time.

"I'll be direct with you, Rose," Mommy Lili said, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke into the air. "Don't you have a daughter? She’s of age now, right? Maybe it's time she—"

Rose's posture locked instantly. Understanding exactly what the older woman was implying, she cut her off with venomous force. "No, Mommy Lili. Absolutely not. My daughter Daphne is going to find a decent, honorable job. She will never end up like me."

Rose's hands clenched into tight fists on her lap, trembling with a mixture of fear and rage.

"Hold your horses and let me finish before you start babbling!" Mommy Lili snapped, rolling her eyes. "I just need an extra table server. She won't be dancing, and she won't be entertaining customers in the VIP booths. It’s just running drinks. And speaking of schedules, yours is changing. Starting next week, you’re cut down to just Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

"What?! Why?!" the protest exploded from Rose's mouth.

"Why?" Mommy Lili laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. "Take a good look in the mirror, Rose. Do you think you're getting any younger? The shelf life in this business is short, and your sweetness is running dry. There’s an endless supply of younger, fresh girls out there now. Customers aren't requesting you like they used to. If I keep you on the daily roster, I’m just burning money."

Rose sat in paralyzed silence, utterly powerless against the manager's decree.

When her shift ended later that night, Rose sat Daphne down in the living room, tentatively explaining the server job at the bar as a way to quickly secure her college tuition.

"Have you completely lost your mind, Rose?!" Daryl roared, slamming his fist onto the coffee table. "Why on earth are you dragging your own daughter into that den of wolves?!"

"And who do you think you are to lecture me?!" Rose flared back, her exhaustion twisting into defensiveness. "I am her mother! I am the one who decides what happens in this family!"

"It's okay, Papa Daryl," Daphne interrupted, her voice small as a forced, tight smile masked her disappointment. "Mom is right. It’s just serving drinks. At least this way I can save up enough money for the next enrollment period."

"But I can provide for you, sweetheart," Daryl pleaded, turning his desperate gaze toward the teenager. "You don't have to step foot in that place."

"Oh, give it a rest, Daryl!" Rose snapped fiercely, pointing a finger at his chest. "Why don't you go focus on your actual child with that other woman, and stop interfering in my daughter's life!"