Chapter three
Damien slammed his hand on the desk in frustration. Why did she keep invading his thoughts when he didn't even know her? He grabbed his phone and dialled Max.
"Have you booked the restaurant?" he demanded.
"I'm on it, sir," Max replied.
"Hello, sir, welcome to Skyline Eatery. I'm Crystal," the waitress greeted him with a smile.
"What would you like to order, sir?" she asked, handing him the menu.
"Make the choice, princess," he said dismissively, not even looking at the menu.
"I'll take whatever you choose," he added.
Crystal couldn't believe it. Who goes to a restaurant and asks the waitress to choose for them?
"I'm waiting, amore," he smirked.
Annoyed, Crystal quickly picked a dish she disliked and brought it to him.
"Spicy rice salad, nice choice, princess," he winked.
Rolling her eyes, Crystal asked, "Anything else, sir?"
"Damien. Call me Damien, princess," he corrected her.
"A glass of juice. Make the choice, too," Damien said.
Crystal returned with a pineapple juice and placed it on the table.
"Crystal?" Damien called her name softly, making her heart skip a beat.
"Do you need anything else, si—"
"Just call me Damien, bambolina, please," he interrupted.
"Yes, Damien."
"Come sit with me," he ordered.
Crystal looked at him incredulously.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Damien, but that's not allowed here," she replied.
Damien made a call and put it on speaker for Crystal to hear.
"Miss Angel, can you tell Crystal to sit with me? She said it's not allowed," Damien said.
"No, sir, it's allowed," Angel confirmed.
"Fine," Crystal reluctantly agreed.
"Now sit, princess," Damien commanded.
Damien almost chuckled at her expression. If looks could kill, he'd be dead.
"Do you remember me from last night?" Damien asked, curious if she remembered or was pretending not to.
"Last night? Have we met before?" Crystal wondered.
Damien breathed a sigh of relief.
"You know, you look even prettier without makeup, princess," he winked.
She rolled her eyes.
"Sir, can you eat a bit faster? I have important things to do," she snapped.
"Like what?" he inquired.
"That's none of your business," she snapped back.
"Like stripping for money? Ain’t you a stripper?" Damien smirked.
Crystal felt dumbfounded and embarrassed. She never thought anyone would recognize her without heavy makeup. Hearing Damien call her a stripper made her feel ashamed. She wished the ground would swallow her whole.
Seeing her distress, Damien regretted his words.
"I didn't choose to be a stripper. Yes, I strip for money, but wealthy people like you wouldn't understand my struggles. If you were in my shoes, you would... never mind, sir," she sighed and forced a smile.
"I have to leave now, sir," she said abruptly, not waiting for a response, and rushed out of the eatery.
Damien didn't try to stop her but followed a few minutes later. When he found out she had gone home, he left as well.
CRYSTALS POV
I screamed into my pillow, the muffled sound of my anguish filling the room. "Why?" I cried out, the pain in my heart overwhelming. But I quickly shook my head, refusing to let the tears fall. "No, I am not weak. I am strong," I repeated to myself, trying to hold onto my composure.
The words he said cut deep,
like a thousand needles piercing my heart. "Damien, who are you to judge me?" I shouted at the empty room. "You know nothing about me or my life. Yes, I am a stripper, but that doesn't define me."
Taking a deep breath, I wiped away my tears and composed myself. "I should head to the club," I said to myself, steeling my resolve. "If I am known as a stripper, then so be it. Crystal Santiago is a stripper, and she's not ashamed of it."
DAMIEN POV
I stormed into the strip club, my eyes fixed on the stage. She was already there, her confident stride and sultry gaze drawing in the crowd. Our eyes met, and I could sense her anger and hatred towards me.
But I didn't care. Tonight, she would dance only for me.
As she began to sway her hips and caress the pole, her eyes never left mine. I could feel my anger rising with each passing moment. How dare she tease these men with her body, her beauty? She was mine, and mine alone.
I marched into the manager's office, my demand clear: "How much for Jae for the night?"
The manager hesitated, "She's not for sale, sir. She doesn't sleep with clients." But I wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Name your price!" | thundered, my voice making her tremble. "Is $5,000 enough?
$10,000?".
The manager's eyes widened in shock, but I didn't care. I would pay any price to keep her away from these lustful men. "But why Jae, sir?" she ventured,
"I'm here too, I can-"
Her words were met with my disgust. "Don't even think about it," I snarled, my threat clear: "I'll shut down this club if you ever try to seduce me again."
I tossed the money on the table and walked away, my claim on Jae clear: she was mine.