
Betrayed by Promise Ring
Chapter 3
The bass pounded through my chest as I balanced a tray of drinks in the VIP section. Three weeks had passed since my hospital stay, and the pain in my ribs still flared with every movement. But I needed this job—needed the money Danielle had promised would help with my medical bills.
"Table seven needs another round," the manager shouted over the music.
I nodded, weaving through the crowded club. Danielle had called in sick tonight—another "episode" that required Maddox's immediate attention. She'd promised to cover my training shift, but now I was on my own, thrown into the deep end of this predatory fish tank.
"Smile, sweetheart," a customer leered as I delivered his drink. "VIPs pay premium for premium service."
I forced a smile, feeling the hem of my uncomfortably short uniform ride higher as I bent to collect empty glasses.
That's when I noticed him—a man in an expensive suit, watching me with calculating eyes from the corner booth.
"New girl?" he asked as I approached his table.
"Just started," I replied, keeping my voice professional.
"Beautiful," he murmured, his hand catching my wrist as I tried to turn away. "I'd like a private conversation."
"I'm working," I said, pulling away.
His grip tightened. "I'm paying you to work."
Before I could protest, he was steering me toward a private booth in the back, his fingers digging into my arm. The door locked behind us with a click.
"Please," I whispered, "I don't do that kind of work."
"Oh, I think you do," he slurred, his breath hot against my face. "Pretty girls like you don't end up in places like this by accident."
I fumbled in my apron pocket for my phone, hiding it in my palm as I backed away. With trembling fingers, I dialed Maddox's number.
The man lunged forward, pinning me against the wall. "No one's coming to save you."
"Please stop," I begged, feeling tears spill down my cheeks.
Maddox answered on the fourth ring. "Macie? What is it now?"
"Help me," I gasped into the phone. "I'm in VIP four—someone's—"
"Jesus, Macie," Maddox cut me off. "I can barely hear you over that music. Are you seriously calling me about work right now?"
The man's hand slid up my thigh, and I whimpered.
"I'm with Danielle," Maddox continued, irritation evident in his voice. "She has a fever. Just handle it, Macie."
"But—"
He hung up.
The man smiled, misinterpreting my horror as submission. "See? No one cares."
Something snapped inside me. I grabbed a champagne bottle from the ice bucket and swung with all my strength. Glass shattered against his temple, and he crumpled to the floor.
---
Dawn painted the sky gray as I stumbled up the stairs to our apartment. My uniform was torn, my makeup smeared with tears. Every step sent pain radiating through my still-healing ribs.
I expected an empty apartment. Instead, I found Maddox sprawled on the couch, his phone still clutched in his hand.
"Danielle?" he mumbled, half-asleep.
I froze in the doorway. Even in his dreams, her name was on his lips.
He shifted, and I saw his phone screen light up with a notification. A text from Danielle:
"Thank you for holding me all night. You're my hero."
The timestamp showed it was sent just fifteen minutes ago.
I stood there, staring at the man who was supposed to protect me. The man who had promised to choose me always. The man who had left me to fend for myself against an attacker.
I didn't wake him. Instead, I walked to the bathroom on unsteady legs and turned the shower to scalding. I scrubbed my skin until it was raw, trying to wash away the feeling of that man's hands on me.
As hot water streamed down my face, mixing with my tears, I looked at my reflection. The girl who had torn up her plane ticket for love was gone. In her place stood someone hollow-eyed and broken.
My hero had become my greatest danger.
---
"You'll love this dinner," Danielle insisted, ladling sauce over my plate. "I made it especially for you."
The table was filled with her friends—all strangers to me—watching with curious eyes as I sat rigidly beside Maddox.
"It smells amazing," I said politely, though my stomach knotted with anxiety.
Danielle beamed. "I added a special ingredient."
The first bite tasted rich and savory, but something was off. A familiar tingling sensation spread across my tongue.
"Is there shellfish in this?" I asked, panic rising.
Danielle's eyes widened with feigned innocence. "Oh! I forgot to mention—there's shrimp paste in the sauce."
My throat began to close as I gasped for air. Maddox jumped up, knocking over his chair.
"Where's your EpiPen?" he demanded.
"In my purse," I wheezed, pointing to the door.
The room erupted into chaos as guests searched for my medication. I collapsed to my knees, clawing at my throat.
That's when Maddox's phone rang.
"Hello?" His voice sounded distant as my vision blurred. "What? When?"
He listened for a moment, then his expression changed from concern to alarm.
"I have to go," he announced, grabbing his jacket. "Danielle's father is in town."
"What?" Sophie exclaimed from somewhere nearby. "Macie could die!"
"Take care of her," Maddox instructed, already moving toward the door. "Danielle needs protection more than Macie needs an EpiPen right now."
As darkness crept into the edges of my vision, I watched him disappear through the doorway, leaving me gasping for air on the floor.
The last thing I saw before consciousness slipped away was Danielle's satisfied smile as she knelt beside me, pretending to help while whispering:
"Maybe now you'll understand who he really belongs to."
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