Julian's POV
I sat in the dimly lit VIP lounge, swirling the glass of whiskey in my hand, watching the amber liquid catch the faint light. The night was the same as any other—filled with the hum of music, the muffled chatter of the club, and the occasional disturbance from someone who didn't belong.
And then, one did.
The waitress.
A clumsy, incompetent girl who had the audacity to spill a drink on me.
I felt the ice-cold liquid seep through my shirt, and before I could even react, she reached out, patting my chest in a desperate attempt to fix her mistake.
The moment her hand touched me, disgust shot through me like a knife.
My aura darkened.
I didn't need to say anything. The intensity of my gaze was enough.
The girl trembled, realizing her error. Her breathing grew shallow, and her fingers, which had been fumbling with the fabric of my shirt, suddenly stopped.
And then she ran.
As she should.
I exhaled slowly, adjusting my sleeves, then leaned back into my chair.
Pathetic.
Moments later, another waitress was sent in.
But this time, something was different.
She walked in with quiet confidence, a stark contrast to the others who usually scurried in, eager to serve but terrified of making a mistake.
I observed her carefully.
She wasn't like the others.
There was something in the way she carried herself—poised, refined. She wasn't raised in this world. She had seen better things.
Yet here she was.
Why?
Before I could ponder further, the door swung open, and the room's tense silence was disrupted by the entrance of Alex.
Lively. Annoying. Predictable.
He strolled in, as energetic as ever, grinning like he owned the place. His eyes landed on the waitress immediately.
And I knew.
I knew he was about to play his usual games.
I didn't stop him.
Instead, I observed.
"Hey, beautiful," Alex said, leaning back into the couch. "You're new here, huh?"
She didn't respond, just remained standing where she was placed.
Alex smirked. "No need to be shy. Why don't you bring me a drink, sweetheart?"
She hesitated for only a second before nodding and turning toward the bar.
Interesting.
She wasn't giggling like the rest.
She wasn't fawning over him, desperate for his attention.
She was just… doing her job.
And that only intrigued Alex more.
Minutes later, she returned with his drink, her steps measured and controlled.
But before she could set it down, Alex did what he did best.
He acted.
Quick as lightning, he grabbed her wrist and, with one swift movement, pulled her onto his lap.
The moment her body landed against him, I felt something inside me twist.
Annoyance?
No.
It was something deeper.
Something unfamiliar.
Alex chuckled, his grip tightening slightly around her waist. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
She didn't answer.
Her whole body was tense, and for the first time since she walked into this room, I saw it—fear.
Not the type of fear that made people weak.
Not the pathetic trembling of the first waitress.
No, this fear was different.
It was the fear of someone who had faced something worse before.
The fear of someone who had been trained to suppress it.
She wasn't looking at him with seduction or submission.
She was looking at him like a warning.
And when her eyes met mine—something inside me clicked.
I knew her.
Not by name.
Not by association.
But I knew her.
That face. Those eyes.
Where had I seen her before?
Alex must have felt it too because his usual playful demeanor cracked for a split second.
And for the first time in a long time…
Alex fell silent.
She stood up, her back straight, her posture unyielding. She wasn't a woman trying to please men.
She was a woman trying to survive.
And she did.
Alex let her go, watching as she returned to her position against the wall, her face unreadable.
Minutes later, we left.
Alex didn't say much.
Neither did I.
But as soon as we got into the car, I reached for my phone and dialed the club owner.
She picked up almost instantly.
"Mr. Julian?" Her voice was careful, as if waiting for an order.
"I want that waitress."
There was silence on the other end.
"…Excuse me?"
"The one who served us tonight. She will serve us from now on."
A pause. Then, "Understood."
I hung up.
Alex, who had been quiet until now, finally turned to me, raising an eyebrow.
"Really?" He leaned back, sighing. "She's no fun, man."
I didn't respond.
Because for some reason, she was fun to me.