
Introduction
Chapter 1
(Lena's POV)
The bar was noisy and I watched Nina's mouth shape up and down, wondering if my ears were deaf.
I appreciated her kindness and understanding.
Studying during the day and staying up late at night to carry out my work has not crushed me.
Hard work is hard work, but compared to what I was doing before, I'm already thankful to Jesus.
I am quite satisfied.
"Honey, I know you don't like to dress like this, but your dark circles under your eyes are just too obvious."
I know, I know, two days of intense work in a row.
But I just smiled at her, and although I did feel a sore back and could hardly open my eyes, I thanked her for giving me such a job.
Nina's bartending skills have always been good, and I could still see under the puffy lights that this was a good piece of work at a good price, and apart from thanking her, only hard work could give me a little peace of mind.
"I need it badly."
My job, it's the tool that helps me get out of my misery.
"But you already look terrible, Lena, looking like you've been abused by something."
I call this Nina's gift of language, she has more or less inexplicable precognitive ability to say things that are occasionally spot on.
Of course, I kept my mouth shut to her about my past.
I watched as the handsome young guy came over and rubbed his neck very intimately against hers, and Nina smiled like a young girl who had just fallen in love. I really would have thought the other guy might be okay if I hadn't focused on the fact that the man had touched her ass.
"Looks like I came at a bad time?" The man winked at me as if he thought that was cool. For Nina's sake, I didn't say anything.
At this point, I could only raise the glass in my hand, look at Nina who was smiling with a happy face, and left the spot after a glance with her to find a target for me.
There is no erotic implication to the goal.
I have to make something out of it. Selling the wine is the first step, but not selling my people out.
The bar was depressing and dim, and the women's writhing bodies looked to be nothing like a crowd of demons, whether men or women, who were looking for their purpose here.
It was a middle-aged man with a belly so big I didn't know how many kegs of beer he'd stuffed. I couldn't see what he looked like, but he smelled like rotting flesh.
I felt his gaze, and although it didn't feel good to be stared at and scrutinized, out of work I still walked over, handed him the wine in my hand, and gave what I thought was a nice smile: "Mojito, sir, want to try it?"
He took my wine. After shaking the glass in his hand and taking a shallow sip, he ran his naked gaze over my body, "May I taste you?"
I was pulled over by him as well.
I swear to God, this is not the outcome I wanted.
There was not even room for maneuvering. I could smell the alcohol in his mouth and very painfully resisted the urge to vomit.
Can't fight it, can't resist.
Nina was right, my makeup was too heavy today, and the first time I saw myself in the mirror, I did a full ten minutes of mental construction before I walked out of the dressing room.
This is not a good sign.
I expected what the man was going to do. But I only thought he would take a few bites of tofu on me, touch a handful of ass, or squeeze abreast, like an escort girl.
As it turns out, I was naive.
For God's sake, he pulled me next to him and enveloped my entire body in his arms. My face still held a smile without many touches.
But soon, he proceeded to the next step. He had no shame whatsoever, and I could imagine how red my face was going to be under a heavy layer of foundation.
The man's hand cupped my breast and he didn't move away. I still kept my smile, but straightened up slightly and tried to pull away from it a little.
So he grabbed it straight away and rubbed it hard on my breast. Unlike caressing, because my body didn't even respond, I just felt pain.
Intense disgust was about to overwhelm me.
But I still didn't dodge it.
"Mr. -"
The man didn't hear me finish my sentence. He put his hand directly on my thigh, and his thick, rough palm caressed my skin.
My mind flashed for a moment to those not very elegant images, smile completely frozen.
Lena, hold steady and don't get Nina in trouble.
Self-hypnosis looks so ridiculous!
If he would have been honest about it, I might have been able to give him a not-so-fake smile, but his hand went in.
What does the concept of a super-short skirt mean? In the eyes of such people are pornography and violence.
I subconsciously clenched my thighs, and then he slapped me on the buttocks and gave me a hard slap on my snow-white thighs as well.
He squirmed with excitement.
I mean, I see this man as a bug.
But I was still smiling, not moving a muscle: "Sir, it's not my job."
The sound of the slap and the ass trying to make contact overlapped unexpectedly with my memory, and the balloon in the past burst, and a rush of the contents came over me, almost crushing me out of breath.
Humiliation comes in many forms.
I have never met my mother, the pictures give the impression of coldness, and the only colors in my memory are my grandmother and the forest in the countryside.
What does it mean to be a mother? I thought it was helplessness and loss at first, but then I realized it was abusive insults.
I was the one who took my mother's life away.
Three years ago, my deceased grandmother left me, and when I first met my father, he told me the true meaning of my mother.
My father's slap was very loud because I tried to disobey what my stepmother said and tried to ask him about my mother but only got this in return.
"Do you know who you are, Lena?"
"Yes, Dad." I nodded, and from then on, I knew that defiance meant a lash, confinement, or no food for a day.
At least by that time, I had learned my lesson.
"Behave yourself out there, do you understand? Lena, you are not honorable enough to go out and do anything with your last name, I'm giving you a chance, this is the last time."
"I understand, Dad."
Los Angeles is not what I thought it would be.
Prosperity, luxury ...... had nothing to do with me. The affection and warmth I thought I would reap was a hard slap in the face like a joke.
I don't know if I'm the so-called illegitimate daughter or not, but Mary's face has come into my dreams countless times.
Listen to what she said.
Dirty, nasty slut, my mother and I are the spitting image of each other, as disgusting as a sewer rat.
People get numb.
I remember the phrase, but I now know what to take after that one.
But after numbing for a long time, you will not lose the ability to explode.
My outburst came on a breezy afternoon, and Mary was still enjoying her afternoon tea when she called me up and asked me in a smiling tone, "Hi! Lena, are you Daddy's girl?"
All my insistence is based on that fatherhood, he is my father, and I still have the last name, Lester.
But he took a paternity test.
Ridiculous! Must God torture me like this?
"Am I not your daughter?"
"I've said it, Lena, remember who you are." He was always so cold and heartless.
"But ...... I'm your daughter!"
Yes, I hope these vulnerable words will impress this man.
It's just ridiculous.
I heard other whispers, gossip only, but they said that my father and stepmother were also responsible for my mother's death.
I'm tired of it.
I left that home on a rainy night, without a penny, taking nothing with me, just myself.
It is for this reason that I came to work at the Charmed Bar.
But it's not my job.
The man's hand touched up again, he pressed his palm on my breast, he may not know that he was touching a living thing, the force of the force so that I could not help but suck back a breath of cold air.
"Little beauty, I touched you cool is not it, scream a little wave of sound to me to hear."
I didn't say anything and reached out to try to push him away.
Then, I got a slap on the wrist in response.
I don't know how harsh the sound was, but I understand how clear and intense the pain was, and at the time of the ringing in my ears, I could still hear exactly what was spewing out of the man's mouth like a pig.
"Play innocent? Try it, this flirty look is not just thinking about being fucked, I'll pay you, slut."
I was pulled over by his hair, screaming stuck in my throat, unable to breathe at all, his fat face coming over, greasy thick lips trying to kiss me on the mouth.
I couldn't cry. Luckily, I didn't cry.
The man's movements suddenly stopped. Then I watched as Nina walked past the man and patted him on the shoulder, and a girl smiled as she walked over and pulled the man's arm over.
I had been pulled up by Nina when I came back to my senses.
Her face was ugly: "Sir, sorry oh, this is the new little sister, the service is not thoughtful yet, what kind of service you want, you can talk to Mies."
The girl named Mies was very cooperative and snuggled into the man's body.
I looked into the girl's eyes, clear, compassionate look, and for a moment, had the urge to cry.
Especially when she looked at me.
I am here, or the future of her, and that future is soon to come.
It wasn't until my arm was squeezed hard by Nina that I came back to my senses and tried to put on an apologetic face and look at the man's stinky face.
No one knows why I looked up at that moment.
My smile froze on my face and my eyes fell through the crowd under the chaotic lights to a man.
Breathe, Lena, breathe!
My eyes widened, my heartbeat became violent, and I don't know what kind of emotions completely overwhelmed me.
My lips moved slightly, but I didn't hear my voice.
"What did you say?"
"It's him."
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