Prologue: The Last Straw

“Elle! Get your fat ass to table seven. Now.”

I keep my expression blank, refusing to let Damien see the sting. He loves that—loves tearing me down, loves watching me squirm. I know I should walk away, tell him to go to hell, but after five years, it’s a habit I haven’t broken. I still hear the voice of the girl I was at sixteen, the one who believed she was lucky to have him.

I adjust my apron, my fingers trembling slightly, and force myself to move.

He knows my body only changed because of the heavy medical drugs I had to take last year to survive. The medication ruined my metabolism, but instead of supporting me, Damien used my illness as a weapon to crush my self-esteem.

He takes every chance he gets to make me feel bad about my body. He doesn’t even bother to hide it anymore. He’s spent the last years making sure I know I’m not enough—not pretty enough, not thin enough, not worthy enough of him. But I stayed, didn’t I? I stayed because every cruel word was wrapped in just enough sweetness to keep me hooked.

I stop in front of table seven, and my stomach drops.

He is sitting there. Damien.

His arm is wrapped casually around a woman I’ve never seen before. She is a tall, slim blonde, devastatingly gorgeous in a tight red dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. She looks like a high-fashion model. The complete opposite of me.

Why does my boyfriend have this bimbo draped over him? But I I knew better than to ask.

His malicious smile chills my blood. I should greet them, should ask them what I can get for them, but it’s like I’ve lost control over my body. What is he doing here? And who is the woman with him?

“Elle. Meet Vanessa. My new girlfriend.”

My knees nearly buckle. Girlfriend?

“Damien, what are you talking about? We’ve been together for five years! I am your girlfriend!”

Damien doesn't look guilty. Instead, he throws his head back and laughs. It is a loud, mocking sound that draws the attention of the surrounding tables.

“Girlfriend?” Damien sneers, leaning forward. “Elle, look at yourself in the mirror. Did you honestly believe a man like me would actually date a girl like you?”

My breath hitches. “But… the last five years… we lived together. I cooked for you, I took care of you, I gave you everything—”

“You were a convenience,” he cuts me off, his voice dripping with absolute disgust. “You gave me a place to stay while I built my career. I didn’t date you, Elle. I used you. I tolerated looking at your bloated face because you were useful. But now? I have Vanessa. My charity work is officially over.”

Vanessa glances up at me slowly, fake sympathy dripping from her bright red lips. “Oh, baby, be nice,” she giggles, resting her perfectly manicured hand on his chest. “Look at her, she’s completely clueless. You poor thing. Did you really think he loved you? You look so tired. And so… big.”

“Five years,” I whisper, the hot tears finally spilling over my eyelashes. “I worked double shifts for you. I gave you all my savings!”

“Your savings?” Damien’s grin widens into something truly monstrous. “You mean our joint account? Check your phone, Elle. I changed the passwords this morning and transferred every single dollar to my personal account. Consider it a f*e for the five years I wasted pretending to like you.”

“Aww.” Vanessa reaches over and pats my trembling hand once, the way someone would pat a stray dog. “It’s okay, sweetie. Some girls just aren’t built to keep a man like him. Go back to the kitchen and cry.”

I want to scream, to throw the champagne bucket at his smug face, but my body won’t move.

The surrounding customers are whispering, pointing at me, laughing under their breath.

I can’t breathe. I turn on my heel, drop my tray, and run.

Behind me, Vanessa’s voice carries, “Oh my God, that stupid bitch really thought you were into her, huh?”

I don’t make it far. The back door slams open, and I stumble into the alley, the cool night air hitting my flushed face. My hands grip the brick wall as I take deep, shaking breaths, the tears spilling faster now.

Five years. He never loved me. He never even considered me his girlfriend. I was just a free bank account and a maid to him

God, I’m such an idiot.

The door bursts open behind me, and I flinch, expecting Damien—or worse, Vanessa. Instead, it’s my boss, his face red with frustration.

“Are you serious right now, Elle?” he barks, pointing a finger at my face. “You walked off the floor on a Friday night. You dropped a tray. You're done. You're fired. Turn in your apron and get out.”

“Marcus, please!” I beg, choking on my tears. “Damien just robbed me! He took everything—"

“I don’t care!” Marcus snaps heartlessly. “Damien just bought a major stake in this restaurant chain. He is a VIP investor now, and his first demand was to get your ugly, crying face out of his sight. I choose profit over you. Leave.”

The door slams shut in my face, locking with a heavy click.

Fired. Just like that.

Before I can even process the shock, my phone buzzes violently in my apron pocket. With shaking fingers, I pull it out. Two notifications stare back at me.

From Landlord: Elle, Damien called to remove his name from the apartment lease. Since you have no proof of income and the rent is overdue, you are being evicted. My men are throwing your things onto the street right now.

With a racing heart, I quickly open my online banking app, praying for a miracle. The screen loads.

Account Balance: $0.00

I have no boyfriend.

I have no job.

I have no home.

I have literally not a single dollar to my name. They have stripped me of my money, my dignity, and my life.

I wipe the remaining tears from my face, my posture straightening. My trembling hands tighten into rock-hard fists.

They think this is my end. But I swear to God, I will make them pay for every single tear.