Karina's expression darkened instantly.

Yes, she needed money, and she genuinely wanted to earn it, but she had not fallen to the point of trading her body for cash.

She stepped back, keeping her tone polite but firm. "Sir, I'm just a server here. My job is to sell drinks-nothing more."

"Don't play innocent," the man sneered, his gaze filled with undisguised contempt. "If you're working in a place like this, doesn't that mean you'll do anything for the right price? Look, I'm not asking for free. If you make us happy tonight, I'll buy everything on your cart. Don't believe me? Go ask your manager if he's heard of Mike Taylor."

Karina forced an awkward smile, grabbing the cart and trying to leave. She had no intention of compromising herself, but she also couldn't afford to escalate the situation.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but this really isn't part of my job..."

giving you face by choosing you, and this is how you act? Do you know how much I spend here every year-nearly twenty grand! Are you seriously

give me that crap!" he shouted, cutting her off. "You're already working in a bar. Don't act all high

hard just

barked,

of the bar's manager, who approached to assess the situation. Predictably, he sided with the customer,

asked you to sit and have a drink. What's the problem? You're a server.

it was pointless

only thing that mattered was the bottom line: how many drinks she sold, how much revenue the bar made. Whether she was being humiliated

head, she remained silent as the manager scolded her harshly, unloading all his frustration onto her. When

about this. She's new and doesn't understand how things work. How about I give you a discount on tonight's bill and send over a few other

anyone

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