Rose stepped into the VIP room, balancing the tray in her hands with practiced ease. But the moment her eyes landed on the man sitting at the center of the luxurious lounge, her entire body froze.
Her breath hitched.
Her grip on the tray tightened.
Sitting among well-dressed men, sipping an expensive drink like he owned the world, was the last person she wanted to see.
Dominic Moreau.
Her father.
A rush of emotions surged through her—anger, resentment, and a deep, lingering pain she thought she had buried.
His cold gaze flickered up, and the moment he recognized her, his expression twisted.
Disgust.
That was the first thing she saw in his eyes.
It was the same look he had given her when she walked away from his house. The same look he had when he let her go, choosing his new wife over his own daughter.
But he said nothing.
Instead, he took a slow sip of his drink, his expression unreadable, before turning his attention away from her like she was nothing more than a mere nuisance.
Rose forced herself to move, swallowing the lump in her throat. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter.
The men around the table barely acknowledged her presence—until one of them snapped his fingers, signaling her to serve them.
"Whiskey. Neat."
"Another round, girl. And make it quick."
Her fingers trembled, but she willed herself to stay steady. As she moved, she felt Dominic's gaze on her, burning with something she couldn't quite place. He didn't stop his friends from sending her up and down like a common waitress.
He just sat there and watched.
Minutes felt like hours.
When the last of his friends finally left, leaving the room in silence, she turned to do the same.
But his voice stopped her.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
His tone was sharp, laced with disappointment and something else—something heavier.
Rose turned slowly, meeting his gaze head-on.
"Working," she said simply.
His jaw tightened. "In this place?"
Rose let out a short, bitter laugh. "Why do you care?"
Dominic stood, his towering presence pressing down on her. "Do you have any idea what it looks like for my daughter to be working in a club like this?"
She scoffed. "Your daughter?"
His eyes darkened.
"I stopped being your daughter the moment you chose her over us," she snapped. "You don't get to question where I work or what I do. You lost that right when you let me walk away."
Dominic's fingers curled into a fist.
"I did not let you walk away," he said, voice dangerously low. "You made that choice."
Rose's breath caught.
Yes, she had.
She chose to leave because staying would have meant watching her father build a life where she and Daniel no longer mattered.
"You pushed me to," she shot back.
Dominic's nostrils flared, but before he could respond, another voice cut through the tension.
"Dominic?"
Both of them turned.
Standing at the doorway, her face filled with confusion, was Sophia Moreau.
Rose frowned.
Why did she say his name like that?
Sophia's gaze flickered between them, and then, in a voice filled with disbelief, she spoke again.
"Brother… what is going on?"
Rose's blood turned to ice.
Brother?
She turned to Sophia in shock.
Her boss. The owner of the club.
Was her father's sister?
For a moment, everything in Rose's mind felt like a tangled mess.
She had never questioned Sophia's last name. Moreau wasn't an uncommon surname, and it never once occurred to her that the woman she had been working for—the one who had promoted her—was actually family.
"You're related?" Rose breathed, her mind spinning.
Dominic's glare deepened. "I should have known you were behind this."
Sophia crossed her arms. "I don't recall needing your permission to hire employees, brother."
"This is not just any employee," he snapped. "This is my daughter."
Sophia's eyes widened, and for the first time, real shock crossed her face.
"She's… your daughter?"
Dominic scoffed. "Not anymore."
The room went silent.
Rose's heart pounded as his words echoed in her ears.
"From this moment forward," Dominic continued coldly, "you are no longer a Moreau. You will not bear our name. You will not claim any connection to me or my family."
His tone was final.
Like a verdict in a courtroom.
Rose knew she should feel something—hurt, anger, pain.
But instead, she felt… free.
Dominic turned on his heel and walked out, leaving only silence behind.
Sophia exhaled, rubbing her temples before turning to Rose.
"You knew, didn't you?" Rose asked, her voice quiet but firm.
"I knew you weren't just some ordinary girl," Sophia admitted. "But I didn't know you were his daughter."
Rose stared at the door where Dominic had disappeared.
He had cut her off completely.
And yet, for the first time in years, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.