Chapter 5

Crystal POV

Pushing open the cabin door, Tiffany was no longer in her seat.

The entire passenger cabin held only Damian.

He had unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, revealing his sculpted collarbone, and held an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

Seeing me enter, he tilted his chin, signaling me to approach.

"Where's Tiffany?" I asked instinctively.

"She went to sleep." He impatiently tossed the cigarette onto the table. "Come here, take off my shoes."

I walked over and knelt at his feet.

This seemed to be my standard posture when facing him. I reached out to untie his leather shoes.

His feet were large. In winter, I used to love tucking my cold feet into his embrace for warmth.

Now, my hand had barely touched his ankle when he kicked it away.

The force wasn't great, but the humiliation was extreme.

"Why are your hands so rough?" He frowned, his gaze falling on my hands, covered in small cuts. Those were from recently washing dishes for a part-time job.

"You never used to do menial tasks, did you?"

"What, did that billionaire go bankrupt? Can't even afford a housekeeper, making you do the work yourself?"

The "billionaire" he referred to was a sugar daddy I'd made up.

To make him give up on me, I'd told him I was with a billionaire ten times richer than him.

I lowered my head, continued untying his shoelaces, my voice steady. "People have to live, Damian."

"Live?" He scoffed, then suddenly bent down and grabbed my wrist, pulling me up.

His excessively handsome face was close to mine, his breath fanning my face. "Crystal, when you took that fifty million, didn't you say you were going to live a good life?"

"Is this the 'good life' you chose? Being a flight attendant, serving drinks, kneeling to clean pants?" His eyes held a deep, ingrained hatred.

"Yes." I met his gaze, smiling carelessly. "The money ran out, so I had to come out and earn more." "If Damian feels sorry for me, why not write me another check?"

At that, the fury in Damian's eyes exploded.

He violently flung my hand away, with such force that I slammed against the cabin wall.

"Dream on." He pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it directly in my face.

Green bills fluttered down, hitting me, then scattering across the carpet.

"That's your tip from before."

"Pick it up." He pointed to the money on the floor, his eyes dark and menacing.

"Pick up every single bill."

"When you're done, go to that room and clean yourself up."

"Tonight, I'm going to 'inspect the goods'."

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