Chapter 21 Embarassment
Jeremy
Jade did not say anything and was just looking at me. She was probably shocked by my reactions.
"Get out of my sight," I said, releasing her and opening the door.
Jade scrambled out, nearly tripping over her feet in her haste to escape.
I stood there for a moment, my hands clenched into fists.
They'd thrown her out. Beaten her—I was sure of that now, despite Jade's denials—and thrown her onto the street.
And Marco had just... written her off and moved on.
Rage burnt through me, hot and consuming.
I turned and walked out of room three. I walked across the floor, past customers and staff who glanced at my face and quickly moved out of my way.
"Mr Santoro!" Jade's voice behind me. "Wait, I didn't mean—"
I ignored her.
I went to Marco's office. I didn't knock. Just opened the door and walked in.
He looked up, annoyed. "What—"
"You knew," I said.
"Knew what?"
"You knew what happened to her. You knew your girls threw her out."
Marco's expression didn't change. "I knew she left. The circumstances are irrelevant."
"Irrelevant," I say and move closer to his desk. "They beat her and threw her onto the street, and you think that's irrelevant?"
"I think it's none of my business what happens to former employees."
"She was blind. Vulnerable. And you just let it happen."
"I wasn't here when it happened. And by the time I found out, she was already gone." Marco stood, meeting my eyes. "What did you expect me to do? Hunt her down? She's an adult who left. End of story."
"Mr Santoro!" Jade's voice from the doorway. Breathless. "I tried to stop you—"
"Get back to work, Jade," Marco said without looking at her.
"But I—"
"Now," he repeated.
I heard her footsteps retreat.
Marco and I stared at each other across his desk.
"You want to find her?" he asked finally. "Fine. Find her. But don't come in here acting like I'm responsible for what happened. I run a business. Not a charity."
"You gave her the job."
"And she took it. And then she left. Or was forced to leave. Either way, it's done."
"Where would she go?"
"How the hell should I know? A shelter, maybe. Another job. The streets. Pick one."
The streets. Three days on the streets, blind, hurt, alone.
If she was even still alive.
The thought made my vision blur with rage.
"If I find out you had anything to do with this—"
"I didn't." Marco's voice was flat. "But I'm also not going to pretend I care. She was here less than a week. That's not enough time to matter."
"She mattered to me."
The words hung in the air.
Marco's expression shifted slightly. Something that might have been understanding. Or pity.
"Then you're a fool," he said quietly. "In our world, caring about people gets them killed. You should know that better than anyone, Santoro."
He was right. I did know that.
But I didn't care.
"If anything happened to her—" I repeated, pointing at Marco.
"Then it happened, And there's nothing you can do about it," Marco said and sat back down. "Now get out of my office. You're bad for business."
I turned and walked out.
Jade was hovering in the hallway; her expression was a mix of fear and desperation.
"Mr Santoro, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
I walked past her without a word.
Out through the bar. I walked past the customers, the music, and the carefully maintained illusion of normalcy.
Out in the night air.
My driver was waiting.
"Where to, sir?"
Where to? Good question.
I pulled out my phone and dialled.
"This is Santoro," I said when the line picked up. "I need you to find someone."
JADE
I stood in the hallway, watching Jeremy Santoro disappear through the front door.
He'd looked at me like I was nothing. Less than nothing.
Like I was the villain.
But I wasn't. I'd just done what needed to be done. Amelia didn't belong here. She was weak. Pathetic.
So why did I suddenly feel like maybe I'd made a terrible mistake?
I turned back toward the dressing room and immediately felt eyes on me.
The other girls had gathered at the corner near the bar—Ashley, Carmen, Beth, and Trina. They were all watching. They were eagerly awaiting my response to the public humiliation.
Some looked at me with pity. Poor Jade, rejected again. Others had barely concealed mockery in their expressions. Serves her right for what she did to Amelia.
I lifted my chin and flipped my hair back over my shoulder. Let them watch. Let them judge.
I walked past them without a word, my heels clicking sharply against the floor. My head was held high even though my face burnt with humiliation.
They didn't understand. They couldn't understand what it was like to work here for six months, doing everything right, following every rule, only to watch some blind nobody walk in off the street and take the position you'd been working toward.
It wasn't fair. What I did—what we did—was justified.
I pushed open the door to my room and closed it firmly behind me.
The silence was deafening.
I sat at my vanity and stared at my reflection. My makeup was smudged from the stress, with mascara slightly smeared under my left eye. I looked tired. Rattled.
I couldn't go back downstairs looking like this.
With slow efficiency, I touched up my makeup. Fixed the mascara, reapplied lipstick, and added another layer of powder to hide the flush in my cheeks. As I worked, I forced myself to breathe. To clear my head.
'You did nothing wrong,' I told myself firmly. She didn't belong here. You just helped her realise that.
Jeremy Santoro would get over it. He'd find another girl to obsess over. And I'd still be here, ready to work, ready to take my rightful place with the special customers.
This would blow over. It had to.
I studied my reflection one more time. Perfect. Composed. In control.
Standing, I smoothed down my dress and headed for the door.
Back to business.
I walked downstairs with my head high, my expression neutral. Professional. The girls were still clustered near the bar, whispering among themselves.
The moment I looked at them—really looked at them with that hard stare that said I wasn't someone to be messed with—they scattered. Ashley hurried toward the private rooms. Carmen busied herself with her phone. Beth and Trina suddenly found the drink menu fascinating.
'Good,' I thought with satisfaction.
They could whisper all they wanted. They could pity me or mock me behind my back. But when I looked at them directly, they still backed down.
Because I was still here. I'm still working. I'm still standing.
And Amelia was gone.
That's what mattered.
Even if a small, nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered that maybe—just maybe—I'd crossed a line I couldn't uncross. And the Santoros – I feared them the most.
I ignored the feeling and got back to work.