The Irresistible Bond

“I need to leave. If I keep staying here, I'll die.”

SLAP!!

“What did I tell you?! You’re utterly incapable of anything! You’re worthless!” My adoptive mother, Diane, hurled the words at me with venom, her voice echoing off the walls before she shoved me forcefully, sending me crashing to the cold floor, my backside absorbing the impact.

A sharp intake of breath escaped me as a jagged fragment of shattered plate pierced my skin, a crimson bloom staining my hand as I clutched it in pain, my eyes betraying the agony I felt.

I shot a scowl at Rachel, Diane’s daughter, who deliberately pushed me, causing all the plates I was carrying to crash to the ground. With an air of entitlement, she chastised me, her tone dripping with disdain. "You need to be more careful next time! You nearly ruined my shirt!" she whined, her words a twisted mockery of concern.

Frustration simmered within me as I rose from the floor, meeting Diane's furious glare with defiance. Before I could utter a word, her hand connected with my cheek in a stinging slap, sending me reeling to the side.

"Don't you dare look at me like that!" Her voice crackled with fury.

My eyes widened in disbelief as I stared at her. "I wasn't doing anything wrong!" I protested, straightening up defiantly. "I apologize for breaking the plates, but your reaction was completely uncalled for!"

Diane chuckled, her face twisted with evident disdain. "Oh, is that so?" she retorted dismissively. "Two months' worth of your salary will be deducted to cover the cost of the plates you've shattered."

I was stunned by her audacity. "What?" I exclaimed incredulously.

"Clean up this mess and find some work to occupy yourself. You'll be staying here until midnight," she ordered, brushing past me without a second glance.

A scoff of disbelief escaped me as I glanced around the bar, noting the curious stares of the customers witnessing the confrontation.

"Now, what's your next move, Lexi?" Rachel taunted me, her expression dripping with mockery.

"What do you mean, 'what's my next move'?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow in frustration. "You must be thrilled by this turn of events, aren't you?"

She nodded, a sinister smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Indeed I am. It brings me immense pleasure to witness your suffering," she remarked, her tone dripping with malic, causing me to frown at her. I began to take hesitant steps backward in response to the sudden hostility etched across her expression.

“You were never truly accepted into this family," she continued with disdain evident in her voice, her words cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. "So it’s only fair we can do whatever we want to do with you. It's only fitting that we treat you as nothing more than a lowly servant," she spat, her words laced with contempt.

With a forceful shove, she sent me stumbling backward, my back colliding with a solid object, while a firm hand gripped my waist, steadying me.

As I struggled to regain my bearings, I noticed Rachel's gaze fixated on something behind me, her expression shifting from malice to something akin to awe as she stared at an unseen figure with a dreamy gaze, her eyes alight with wonder as if beholding the impossible.

Blinking in confusion, I turned to see what had captured Rachel's attention, my breath catching in my throat as I beheld a towering figure standing before me, his enchanting green eyes boring into mine, his dirty blonde hair impeccably styled, radiating an aura of undeniable charisma and raw magnetism.

"Oh my God," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, feeling spellbound by his striking appearance. Could someone truly be this breathtaking?

Before I could gather my wits, Rachel pushed me aside with a dismissive gesture, her focus now directed towards the enigmatic newcomer. “My name is Rachel Atkiss, what's yours?” she inquired, extending her hand towards him with a coy smile, her demeanor shifting from hostility to intrigue in the blink of an eye.

The man took a subtle step backward, his hands casually tucked into his pant pockets as he regarded Rachel with a quizzical expression. "And why do you wish to know?" he queried.

“I'm pretty sure a lot of women have told you that you're handsome,” Rachel asserted, her demeanor bashful yet forthright.

With a nod of acknowledgment, the man turned his gaze towards me, his smile possessing an irresistible charm capable of melting even the sternest of hearts. "But she hasn't," he remarked softly, his words carrying a weight of sincerity as he closed the distance between us, leaving me rooted to the spot, utterly transfixed by his presence.

“You might want to tend to your injured hand," he suggested with a smirk, his voice laced with playful amusement, before gracefully making his exit from the bar.

“Who was that man?" Rachel exclaimed in awe, her eyes wide with wonder. With a sigh, I lowered my gaze and resumed my work.

My name is Lexi Denova, and that's essentially all I've known about myself, thanks to the necklace I've worn ever since my stepfather discovered me. Sadly, he's no longer with us, may he rest in peace. His wife, Diane, never welcomed me into their home, and her animosity towards me was obvious from the start. There was no logical explanation for her hatred, but it only intensified after my stepfather's passing.

I've endured more than enough and if I keep staying with them, I'll never move forward, or I'll just die. Deep down, I've always believed that my life holds more significance than being confined to the role of a waitress in a bar frequented by horny old men.

After tidying up the mess, I retreated to the restroom to tend to my injured hand, and washing off my blood covering it. Frowning in confusion, I stared at my hands, perplexed by what I saw. "Huh?" I muttered, my mind grappling with the inexplicable sight before me.

With a sense of bewilderment, I continued to scrub away the blood, my thoughts racing as I questioned the validity of my perception. "What the hell? I could have sworn I was injured."

There was no visible sign of injury on my hand, leaving me perplexed. "This is strange," I muttered under my breath.

With a heavy sigh, I gazed at my disheveled black hair, tied up in a messy bun, and felt the weight of exhaustion in my blue eyes. I couldn't blame them for feeling worn out; the situation had taken its toll. I needed to find a way out, but how?

Leaving the restroom behind, I made my way back to the counter to attend to the customers.

"One of the patrons wants a beer, Lexi. Are you alright? I thought you hurt yourself," Mia, my best friend, asked with concern evident in her voice. Glancing down at my left hand, I shook my head in response.

"No, I'm fine. Why don't I take care of that customer?" I reassured her with a smile, grabbing a bottle of beer and a glass cup before heading over to assist the waiting patron.

Approaching the table, the male patron, appearing to be in his early thirties, greeted me with an incessant smile that left me feeling uneasy. I couldn't help but wonder about the reason behind his persistent grin as I clumsily placed his beer and glass on the tabletop, my discomfort growing with each passing moment.

"Why don't you pour it for me, beautiful?" he remarked, his voice laced with a nauseatingly seductive undertone that almost made me frown.

Forcing a counterfeit smile, I obliged, reluctantly twisting off the bottle cap and pouring the beer into a glass. However, as I turned to depart, my senses were assaulted by a sudden sharp smack to my butt. Shock reverberated through me as I turned to confront the audacious patron, only to find him nonchalantly sipping his beer as if nothing had occurred.

With gritted teeth and simmering rage, I retreated to the safety of the counter, struggling to contain my anger.

“I saw what happened. I'm sorry," Mia offered sympathetically, her eyes filled with pity. I shook my head, hating being pitied.

“It's so ridiculous. Let's just power through today. I can't believe I'm stuck here until fucking midnight," I muttered angrily under my breath, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

It was just me when I closed the bar. Diane had driven off with her car, and Mia and the other bartenders left, except me. This wasn't the first time I'd been left alone at night, so I begrudgingly made my way out of the bar, steeling myself for the journey ahead.

Suddenly, a car pulled up beside me, and a man stepped out with a cocky grin plastered on his face. It was him—the asshole who had smacked my ass earlier.

"The bar's closed," I informed him tersely, eyeing him warily.

He sauntered towards me, and a surge of fear shot through me, causing me to instinctively take a step back. Then, with a smirk, he spoke. "Diane really needs to keep that bar open 24/7 and have a room where people can... you know... fuck. I'm sure you understand that term," he said suggestively.

I scowled at him, my irritation mounting. "Of course I fucking understand. I'm fucking twenty," I retorted, my tone laced with defiance.

“Ahh, that's good,” he murmured appreciatively, and my back just had to meet the unforgiving surface of the wall as he advanced toward me, his proximity sending a shiver down my spine.

“Why does it feel good?” I questioned, a sense of unease creeping over me.

"Because then I wouldn't be breaking any laws," he replied abruptly, his hand suddenly reaching out to grope my breasts. Shocked and appalled, I recoiled, pushing him away with a sharp gasp.

“Get the fuck away from me!" I screamed, followed by the sound of a collision.

“You really wouldn't give me a chance to be a knight in shining armor, wouldn't you?”