Third Person Point of View
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Meanwhile, Slyvia was now serving customers downstairs. She had decided to switch shifts with an acquaintance—one who was more than eager to take her place after hearing that the VIP room was full of handsome guys.
Slyvia didn't return upstairs after that. She had no intention of setting foot in that room again—not with Rome there.
She simply couldn't handle the way he looked at her, like his eyes were sharp enough to cut through her. Just being in the same space as him made her skin crawl.
She had already closed that chapter of her life long ago, and she wasn't about to reopen it now. She had no plans to talk to him—let alone share a room with him again.
"Hi, Miss Beautiful! What luck I have, seeing you here tonight." came a voice she dreaded more than she cared to admit.
It was a man she despised—one of the regulars who always made her uncomfortable.
She hadn't expected that serving customers downstairs would be just as unbearable. The last thing she wanted was to deal with him again—the man who constantly harassed her every time he showed up, especially when he was drunk.
And worse, he wasn't alone. He had brought along his equally obnoxious friends.
To make matters more frustrating, he came from a powerful and influential family and happened to be close friends with the bar owner. Because of that connection, he was never banned—no matter how inappropriate or disruptive his behavior became.
"Come here. Serve us at this table and stay with us for a while. Let your co-workers handle the other customers." the man said, eyeing her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't. There are a lot of customers tonight, and I can't leave my team to handle everything on their own."
She couldn't stand the way he was looking at her.
She was just about to walk away from their table when he suddenly grabbed her wrist and, in one swift move, pulled her onto his lap.
His friends erupted into laughter and cheers.
"Hey, sir! What you're doing is not allowed. I'm not some whore you can just grab whenever you want!" she snapped, shoving at his chest and trying to get up.
But he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, holding her in place and pulling her even closer.
"What do you mean not allowed? In this bar, nothing's off-limits when it comes to me!" he said arrogantly, leaning his face dangerously close to her chest.
She immediately pushed him away again, her panic rising.
She looked around, desperate to find one of the bouncers she knew—but none of them were in sight.
"Hey, I'm not going to do anything you won't enjoy, so just stay here beside me and have some fun with me." the man said, his voice thick with arrogance as he leaned in to kiss her neck.
Disgusted, she quickly raised her hand and blocked his face.
"Sir, what the hell?!" she snapped, struggling to break free from his grip.
"Come on, just a second. Don't be so uptight—"
But before he could finish his sentence, someone suddenly yanked him back by the collar of his shirt.
In a flash, she was pulled off his lap and fell to the floor with a thud.
The man who had grabbed him was already throwing punches—hard, furious blows to the face—before slamming him to the ground.
The commotion sent shockwaves through the nearby tables. Laughter and chatter died down as gasps and startled cries filled the air.
Heads turned toward the center of the dancefloor, where one man was now delivering brutal punches.
Only then did she realize what had just happened.
Jude—the same man who had forced her onto his lap—was the one being beaten. And the one throwing the blows with fury was Rome.
Jude, recovering from the surprise, finally landed a retaliatory punch, his face twisted in rage and humiliation. But she could already see Rome's eyes flash with warning.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jude's group of friends had also recovered from their shock. They began to rise from their seats, fists clenched, slowly starting to surround the two men.
They were planning to gang up on Rome!
Jude had taken a serious beating, and his friends weren't going to let it slide. Her heart pounded as she realized just how quickly things were spiraling out of control.
"What the hell is your problem, huh?! Do you like her too or something?! If you did, you should've just told me earlier so I could've given her to you after I was done—"
But Jude didn't get to finish his sentence. Rome, seething with rage, landed a solid punch straight to his face.
"You bastard!" Jude roared, but Rome didn't let up—he threw another punch, then another, each one faster and harder than the last.
Only then did the bouncers finally arrive—but they couldn't break up the fight.
Jude's friends blocked their way. A few of them even jumped in to gang up on Rome.