Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Understood."

Surprisingly, after being humiliated so thoroughly by Barrett, I didn't feel any heartbreak.

All I felt was a surge of anger and disgust.

I refused to wear clothes that put me in danger.

Yet when I tried to picture Barrett's face in my mind, it was already a blank blur.

[Host, please don't be sad.]

The system tried to comfort me. I gently shook my head and pressed a hand against my chest.

I wasn't sad at all.

At eight-thirty in the evening, the doors of Noir opened. Forced into a skimpy cocktail dress, I was pushed into the main lounge under the glaring lights.

The manager clearly despised me because I refused to smile. In a venue like this, pleasing the wealthy clientele with a sweet smile was mandatory.

My cold, stoic expression only irritated him.

"Did you hear me, Joy? Know your place. You're no longer some high-and-mighty corporate executive. You're just a waitress here, and you better smile for the VIPs."

I nodded blankly. The manager shoved my shoulder aggressively and dragged me over to a VIP booth.

"Joy, you have to earn your own keep now. If you mess up tonight, you'll regret it."

I had never been spoken to like this in my seven years here. But I knew that in civilized society, you starved to death if you didn't earn money, and I wanted to live.

So, I forced the corners of my mouth upward, pouring expensive liquor for the guests and attending to their orders.

"Well, well, look who it is! Isn't this Mr. Lockhart's little pet, Joy Carter? What happened? Did he throw you out like trash the second he found a real wife? You look smoking hot in that dress, though."

"Lockhart sure knows how to handle people. Back then, you closed deals and ran strategies for him. Now that you're useless to him, he tosses you here to exploit your body instead. Talk about a ruthless capitalist!"

"Hahaha! That's hilarious!"

Greedy, disgusting stares roamed over my body. I instinctively crossed my arms to cover my exposed skin, but the fabric was too scarce to hide anything.

"Why act so innocent now? You came here to sell drinks, so why pretend to be pure? Still trying to stay loyal to Barrett? Too bad your dream man is busy putting a ring on someone else's finger!"

A bulky man in a tailored suit grabbed me by the waist. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn't break free.

Panic surged through me as memories of the apocalyptic ruins flooded my mind. Terrified, I sank my teeth hard into the man's wrist.

"Ah! You crazy bitch!"

The man yelped in pain and slapped me hard across the face, sending me crashing to the floor. Furious, he barked at his bodyguards to pin me down.

I desperately wanted to run. I wanted to find Barrett.

Even though my memories of him were nearly gone, my subconscious still treated him as the only person who could protect me.

Unfortunately, the man moved faster. He planted a filthy hand on my jaw, squeezing my cheeks painfully.

The manager didn't dare offend the wealthy client and stayed silent.

The surrounding patrons were used to such scenes and didn't even bat an eye.

"Who do you think you are, you washed-up whore?"

Another heavy slap cracked against my face. The man pulled out his phone, filming my bruised state while loudly playing a live stream of Barrett's wedding banquet.

Barrett had used the fortune I helped him earn to give Cynthia an impossibly luxurious celebration.

Fireworks, custom roses, and diamond jewelry―everything Barrett had once promised me was now being showered on her.

He had sworn under the moonlight that he would marry me, only to discard me in the end.

And he chose the cruelest way possible to crush my dignity.

My head split with agony once more. Instead of shielding my bruised body, I stared blankly into space as the system deleted more of my memories.

When I first met Barrett, Cynthia had dumped him for being broke and ran off to Europe with a wealthy foreigner.

To win his heart, I listened to the system and spent seven long years caring for him through sickness and poverty.

Seven whole years.