From her vantage point, Maeve could clearly see the bright red slap mark lingering on the waitress's cheek.
It wasn't just her face—both of her knees, exposed below her short skirt, were bruised and swollen.
The supervisor wiped the girl's tears with a tissue.
"Lina, it's not that I want to throw you to the wolves, but the client specifically asked for you."
"You know the people in Room 1919 are serious heavyweights."
"Especially Mr. Bright. Even our boss has to bow and scrape when he's around."
"You're just a low-level waitress here. You don't get to pick and choose your clients."
"I know you got hit, and I know you're scared of going back in there and getting humiliated again."
"But if you walk away now, the retaliation will be a hundred times worse."
"Stop crying and get that wine to them."
"If you're late, they'll just use it as another excuse to torture you."
When Lina stubbornly refused to move, the supervisor pulled out her trump card.
"Keep wasting time, and you can clear out your locker tomorrow."
"Lina, think about it. You won't find another paycheck like this—not one that covers your bills and your father’s medical expenses."
"You should have known when you applied here that the high pay comes with a price."
"Compared to groveling and taking a slap, being broke is the real crime."
"You don't want the hospital to pull the plug on your father in the ICU tomorrow, do you?"
Her words were undeniably cruel, but they struck Lina's most vulnerable nerve.
Faced with brutal reality, pride and dignity were completely worthless.
Wiping her tears away with her sleeve, Lina grabbed the serving tray with the look of a condemned prisoner.
Several incredibly expensive bottles of red wine sat on the tray.
She was just about to head toward Room 1919 when Maeve stepped into her path.
The sudden appearance of another person startled both women.

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