Chapter 2 The Starlight Club
Fear enveloped Phoebe instantly.
She remembered the torture in prison, the relentless bullying from fellow inmates, the cold indifference of the Foster family for three years, and the excruciating pain when her leg was broken.
She finally understood that her release wasn't the end—it was the beginning of another hell.
She also knew she couldn't escape.
"Noah," Phoebe looked up at him, her voice trembling, "I admit it. It was all my fault. I spent three years in prison, regretting it every day. The punishment was enough—please, just let me go."
"Let you go?" Noah laughed softly.
"Phoebe, are you really that stupid?"
"Vivian can never dance again. Her dream is destroyed. And you think three years in prison is enough redemption? Not even close."
Phoebe wanted to scream that thanks to him, her leg was also ruined, causing excruciating pain whenever she moved!
She was a dancer too. Her dream had been destroyed by him as well!
But she swallowed those words.
She knew Noah didn't care about her suffering.
Phoebe took a deep breath and asked desperately, "What do you... want from me?"
"The legal punishment is over," Noah's smile disappeared, his eyes frighteningly cold, "but my punishment is just beginning."
He turned to his secretary, "Alan, take her to the Starlight Club."
The Starlight Club!
Phoebe's face drained of color.
Everyone in Port Linden knew it as a playground for wealthy heirs.
Sending her there meant destroying her last shred of dignity.
"No, Noah, you can't do this!" Phoebe grabbed at his coat, tears streaming down her face.
"Can't I?" Noah shook off her hand, looking down at her. "Is there anything in Port Linden that Noah cannot do?"
Phoebe collapsed onto the snowy ground. All she wanted now was to survive, to prevent her family from suffering because of her. Was that too much to ask?
Her pride as the Foster heiress had long since vanished.
"Take her away," Noah said coldly to Alan. "Tell Monica to 'take care' of her personally."
With that, he returned to the Maybach without a backward glance.
The luxury car sped away, mercilessly splashing slush and snow onto Phoebe's face.
Alan Bennett approached her, sighed, and helped her up. "Ms. Foster, let's go."
In the taxi, Phoebe raised her hollow eyes and asked hoarsely, "Vivian—how is she doing?"
Alan hesitated before answering vaguely, "Ms. Bell is... doing better. She's in physical therapy now."
Phoebe laughed bitterly to herself. How nice. Vivian could still do physical therapy!
Half a month later, at the Starlight Club.
Phoebe stood at the entrance hall wearing a thin hostess uniform. Every day from five in the afternoon until two in the morning, she bowed to each guest, smiled, and said, "Welcome to the Starlight Club."
It was raining today. After standing for so long, her left leg had gone from painful to numb.
"Hey Phoebe, you okay? Maybe you should take five in the back." Emily Robinson, a fellow hostess, whispered when there were no guests around.
Emily was one of the few people who treated her kindly.
"I'm fine!" Phoebe shook her head and forced a smile. "Ms. Lane knows..."
"She's got it out for you!" Emily said indignantly. "Everyone knows you were sent here by Mr. White, yet she dares to treat you this way! She's just jealous because you're beautiful! Why not quit? You don't deserve this!"
Quit?
Phoebe gave a bitter smile and shook her head. Did she even have the right to quit?
"Why not?"
Emily couldn't understand. She and Phoebe had started working at the Starlight Club around the same time. After half a month together, she found Phoebe beautiful and good-natured—someone who should be liked anywhere.
Yet the front desk manager targeted her constantly, either denying her breaks or making her clean up after drunken guests' vomit. For over half a month, she hadn't shown Phoebe a single moment of kindness.
Despite this, Phoebe maintained her good temper, accepting everything like a lamb to slaughter.
"I have no money, nowhere to live, and I can't find any other job," Phoebe said quietly to Emily. "At least they provide meals and accommodation here."
Emily looked at her with sympathy in her eyes.
Phoebe said nothing more.
She knew her submissive behavior appeared contemptible, but she didn't care.
The Starlight Club was Noah's property. Every bit of suffering she endured here was visible to him.
As long as she was being tormented here, Noah wouldn't direct his anger toward the Foster family.
This was the only thing she could do for her family now.
In the distance, two limited-edition sports cars pulled up to the plaza in front of the club. The revolving door was pushed open, and several well-dressed young men and women entered, talking loudly.
Phoebe immediately lowered her head, bowing at a ninety-degree angle. "Welcome to the Starlight Club," she said in a steady voice.
The group walked straight past her without a single glance.
Just as Phoebe was about to straighten up, a sharp female voice sounded above her.
"Well, who do we have here? Isn't this the great Phoebe?"
Phoebe's body stiffened.
She looked up to see a face with heavy makeup.
It was Grace Hernandez, Vivian's close friend.
"What are you doing here?" Grace dramatically covered her mouth, looking Phoebe up and down. "Oh right, you've been released from prison, haven't you?"
Emily was shocked to learn that Phoebe knew these wealthy heirs.
Phoebe maintained her professional smile and remained silent.
"Three years in prison and you've forgotten how to speak?" Grace grew angrier at Phoebe's silence. "Did they beat you stupid in there?"
Phoebe continued her silence, her standard smile unchanged.
Grace was furious now and shouted, "Manager! Where's your manager?"
"Is the Starlight Club hiring just anyone these days? Even attempted murderers as hostesses? Are you joking with our safety?"
Her shouting drew the attention of everyone in the hall.
Then, a cool male voice came from behind Grace.
"That's enough!"
Phoebe looked over, her heart tightening.
It was Ethan Bell, Vivian's brother and the only person who had visited her in prison.
Though his visit had been filled with hatred.
Vivian was the Bell family's precious gem, and Ethan protected his sister fiercely, tolerating no harm to her.
Phoebe completely understood why Ethan hated her.
"Ethan, you're here!" Grace's demeanor changed instantly as she took his arm. "Look! It's Phoebe! She's working as a hostess here!"
Ethan's gaze fell on Phoebe.
He saw her haggard, pale face and her unnatural left leg, and his eyes narrowed sharply.
"When did you get out?" he asked, his tone complex.
Ethan's question stirred something inside Phoebe, but the feeling quickly faded.
"Half a month ago."
Phoebe's voice was as flat as if she were discussing someone else.
She turned slightly, avoiding Ethan's gaze, maintaining her hostess posture.
Ethan sighed and finally said, "What's done is done. Just... try to move on with your life."
"Move on?" Grace scoffed beside him, looking at Phoebe with contempt. "Ethan, you're too kind. She destroyed Vivian. Why should she get to move on?"
"That's enough," Ethan frowned, clearly displeased.
Grace hadn't expected Ethan to let Phoebe off so easily. Her expression immediately turned darkened.
Back when Phoebe was the Foster heiress, she had often mocked Grace with cold sarcasm. Now the tables had turned, and Grace had no intention of letting her off lightly.