Chapter 3

I arrived at the bar and changed into the skimpy waitress uniform.

The owner was a decent man. When he heard I was saving up for tuition to study abroad, he paid me a dollar more per hour than the other waitresses.

For the past six months, I had been on my feet five hours a day, enduring insults and violence from drunk customers. I had taken it all without complaint.

Because I knew that every second I endured here was a stepping stone toward Zurich.

I stood for three hours in heels that didn't fit and earned a hundred dollars in tips.

Before I could celebrate, the owner grabbed my arm. "Heather, four guests just arrived in VIP Room One. Go take care of them!"

He winked at me, excited. "Take good care of them. Their tips alone might pay for your flight to Zurich."

I thanked him and made my way to the VIP room with bottles on my tray, ignoring the ache in my feet.

The room was dimly lit, the guests hidden in shadow. I couldn't make out their faces, so I leaned in as usual and asked if they would like to order drinks.

Silence. No one answered.

I looked up and found myself staring into Julian's furious face. "Heather, you're actually working a job like this!"

Julian slapped the tray out of my hands, his eyes raking over my revealing uniform.

Bottles shattered, and the shards cut into my ankle.

I bit back the pain and said nothing.

Dominic stood as well, glaring at me. "Have you forgotten everything we taught you growing up?"

I lowered my head. "I need the money."

Julian scoffed.

Leah stepped forward and linked her arm through mine. "Heather, if you needed money, why didn't you ask Dominic or Julian?"

She tilted her head, putting on an innocent expression. "I thought you had an allowance account. I don't even have one."

The deposits to my allowance account had stopped a long time ago.

Every cent I lived on now came from this uniform, from the drinks on my tray, scraped together one tip at a time.

But saying any of that would only become more proof, in my brothers' eyes, that I had fallen as low as they believed.

So I didn't explain. I just looked at Leah's barely concealed smirk and spoke calmly.

"You're right. You don't have an allowance account because you don't need one. You can draw directly from the Weems Family trust, and you have access to far more than I ever did. So lose the condescending act, Leah."

Leah's eyes went red. She buried her face in her hands and began to cry softly.

"Who gave you the right to talk to Leah like that!" Darian shoved me, and I lost my footing, dropping to my knees on the broken glass.

Neither of my brothers noticed. They were too busy rushing to comfort Leah.

"I was only trying to look out for Heather, and she..." Leah's theatrical sobbing made my stomach turn.

"I want to go home!"

"Fine, let's go home. Don't waste your time on someone like Heather!" With that, my brothers swept Leah out the door without a backward glance.

Darian didn't leave right away. He stood over me, pulled a thick wad of cash from his wallet, and flung it in my face.

"You need money, right? Take it, and don't let me catch you in this neighborhood again!"

I crouched down slowly, pulling the hem of my skirt over the bloodied cuts on my knees, and picked up the bills one by one.

"Thank you for the tip, sir." I kept my voice polite.

He clenched his fists, looking as if he wanted to tear me apart.

Bang!

Darian slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the room.