My Scars Are Seeds of Glory

That was when I scrolled past some gossip from the underground world.

"New Don Spotted Kissing Girlfriend at Nightclub Kiss—Marriage Rumors Explode."

Envy ran through the comment section. People claimed this real-life drama outshone any movie.

Michele's success in both love and business should have comforted me. Instead, my eyes burned with a sharp sting. Just then, my phone rang.

"Ms. Rossitto? This is Barbara. Michele regrets it. He wants the 50 thousand dollars returned. If you refuse, he will sue you for extortion. The family's legal team isn't something you can afford to provoke. I am sorry, Ms. Rossitto. I tried to speak up for you, but Michele truly despises you now."

I gave a bitter smile, said nothing, and ended the call.

After standing there for a while, I dug a crumpled business card out of the trash and dialed the number. "Mr. Frattini? I agree to work at Club Luna."

I used to have my limits. I would rather wash dishes than step into a nightclub soaked in lust and neon.

Now that Michele hated me so deeply, he would probably take some satisfaction in knowing I was serving drinks in a nightclub for a measly sum.

With my battered body, it was the fastest way to earn money. If making a living meant staying alive, who would willingly wait to be torn apart piece by piece?

That night, I arrived at Club Luna. I endured the discomfort as I changed into the revealing uniform.

Balancing a tray in my hands, I pushed open the door to the assigned private room. Then I saw Michele, seated in the place of honor.

He wore a perfectly tailored black shirt, holding a costly cigar between his fingers. With his collar undone, the tattoo shimmered faintly in the shadows.

Barbara was draped in designer brands and glittering jewels from head to toe. A sparkling new diamond necklace rested at her throat.

Beyond the old tattoo, Michele's body showed no trace of her.

I stole a quick glance. Then, I lowered my eyes, set down the tray, and turned to leave.

In the noisy private room, Michele was too busy feeding Barbara fruit to notice me. Barbara, however, noticed me immediately. "Wait. Open the wine first."

I had no choice but to step closer and grab the corkscrew. It was my first day, and I was clumsy. I tried several times, but each attempt failed. Michele's gaze swept over me, and he frowned.

My hands trembled, and I applied too much force. The cork flew straight into Barbara.

She screamed and slapped me, sending me crashing to the floor.

"Do you even know how to do anything properly? This dress is custom-made. Even if I sold you, it wouldn't cover the cost!"

Furious, she grabbed the bottle and swung it toward me. I instinctively curled up to protect my head, but the pain never came.

When I opened my eyes, Michele had caught her wrist.

He took the bottle from her hand, looking at her with indulgence. "It's not worth getting angry over trash like this. It's just a dress. Tomorrow, I'll buy the entire brand and give it to you."

He looked down at me, and I trembled from head to toe. His eyes flickered with something unreadable before a mocking smile spread across his face.

"Are you mute?" he asked. "Don't you know how to talk? These people are all my friends, and each of them is wealthy. If you stay silent, how do you expect to tempt them into tipping you?"

Barbara immediately ripped off my mask and laughed. "Ms. Rossitto? How did you end up here? I've always been grateful to you. If you hadn't given up Michele, I'd never have met him. If you're struggling, you should have asked me for help instead of putting yourself out here."