Chapter 3 Broken Pride
Grace grabbed Phoebe's arm firmly.
"Come on, Phoebe! Perfect timing. There are old friends in the VIP room who've been 'missing' you. Let's go in and catch up!"
Phoebe knew there was no escape.
Wasn't this exactly what Noah wanted? To have her humiliated by people from her past, to make her realize how far she had fallen.
Even Emily, who had been friendly moments ago, now looked at Phoebe with shock and distance in her eyes, lowering her head and pretending not to see what was happening.
Phoebe was pushed by Grace toward the most exclusive VIP room at the back of the club.
Inside, the music was deafening, smoke swirling through the air.
It was impossible to distinguish who was who. As soon as they entered, a drunken voice called out. "Ethan, you finally made it! We've been drinking for hours! You deserve a penalty, and Grace, don't you dare stop him!"
Grace smirked as she reached for the wall switches, turning on all the lights in the room.
The harsh brightness made everyone squint, and the music abruptly stopped.
"Look who I've brought, everyone!" Grace announced, shoving Phoebe forward.
Phoebe stumbled but managed to steady herself.
Every gaze in the room converged on her.
First confusion, then recognition, finally transforming into surprise and mockery.
"Am I seeing things? Is that Phoebe?"
"Phoebe? Wasn't she in prison for attempted murder? She's out already?"
"Wait, is she wearing the Starlight hostess uniform?"
The comments pierced Phoebe like countless needles, each one digging into her skin.
Meanwhile, at the penthouse office of White Group headquarters, Monica Lane's call came through to Noah.
"Mr. White, Mr. Bell and his friends have taken Phoebe into the VIP room."
Noah paused briefly, his voice detached. "I see."
"Should I intervene?" Monica asked.
"No." His tone was flat. "I don't believe the proud Phoebe has truly changed. Let them have their fun. I want to see her utterly disgraced."
Back in the VIP room, Ethan coldly interjected. "Grace, that's enough!"
After a brief silence, the atmosphere grew even more chaotic.
"Come on, Ms. Foster, what kind of reunion would this be without drinks?" A man thrust a full glass of whiskey into Phoebe's hands. "Drink this, and we'll put the past behind us!"
Phoebe stared at the amber liquid, her brow furrowing slightly as her stomach churned with discomfort.
She knew this was just the beginning. No one here would let her off easily.
She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and poured the burning liquor down her throat.
The alcohol scorched her esophagus.
She forced herself to swallow it all.
"That's the spirit!"
"Now we're talking!"
The crowd cheered, and more drinks were pushed into her hands.
Phoebe lost count of how many glasses of liquor she'd been forced to drink. Her stomach felt like it was on fire, her head spinning.
Ethan watched her coldly from the couch. When Grace's face twisted into a malicious smile as she offered Phoebe another shot of tequila, he rose with a dark expression and snatched the glass away.
He downed it in one gulp.
Grace realized what had happened, her face instantly turning livid. "Ethan? What are you doing?"
Ethan banged his empty glass on the table, startling everyone.
"Everybody out!" he growled, his eyes bloodshot as he glared at the group.
The crowd fell silent, intimidated by his fury.
Ethan grabbed Phoebe's ice-cold wrist and dragged her out of the room, ignoring her weak attempts to resist.
The cold night air hit Phoebe as they stepped outside the club, clearing her foggy mind somewhat.
Ethan brought her to the bottom of the entrance steps, then abruptly released her.
Phoebe, already unsteady on her bad leg and now intoxicated, lost her balance and fell awkwardly to the ground.
"Phoebe! Is this degradation entertaining to you?" Ethan towered over her, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of anger, disappointment, and something that looked strangely like sorrow.
Phoebe raised her head, looking at him in confusion.
"You're so desperate to return to this glittering world that you'd accept being a hostess and being ridiculed," Ethan said with heartache. "Then why did you hurt Vivian in the first place? For Noah, you've destroyed both yourself and Vivian. Was it worth it?"
Phoebe forced a smile.
Grace, still holding a glass, had followed them out. Seeing this scene, she was consumed with jealousy. "Ethan! What are you saying to this attempted murderer? Do you still have feelings for her?"
Everyone knew Ethan had once pursued Phoebe. If Phoebe hadn't foolishly crashed into Vivian with her car, perhaps Ethan wouldn't have given up on her.
That was why Grace was afraid that Ethan still couldn't get over Phoebe.
"What's going on here?"
Noah appeared with a cold expression, his gaze bypassing Ethan to land directly on Phoebe. He offered a mocking smile.
"How dare you leave your station while you're on the clock? Have you forgotten the hostess rules?"
Phoebe's body trembled involuntarily. She instinctively struggled to her feet, keeping her head down, not daring to look at him.
Noah approached, his overwhelming presence bearing down on her.
He stopped in front of Phoebe, his eyes cutting like ice. "Drinking during work hours? Who authorized that?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. White, I..." Phoebe's voice quavered, her fingers tightly gripping the hem of her uniform.
"Mr. White, there's no need to be so harsh on a mere hostess," Ethan stepped forward, positioning himself between Phoebe and Noah, his tone carrying distinct displeasure.
Noah didn't even bother to look at him, his voice remaining frigid. "Phoebe, you've offended our guests. Don't you know how to offer a proper apology?"
Phoebe shook more violently. She closed her eyes briefly, turned to face Ethan and Grace, and bowed deeply. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bell, Ms. Hernandez. It was my fault."
Ethan's face darkened, but he remained silent.
Noah chuckled lightly. "It seems they're not accepting your apology. Very well. Kneel here until they say they're no longer angry. Then you can get up."
Phoebe bit her lip hard, her eyes reddening. She looked up at Noah's cold, calculating eyes, a chill spreading through her heart.
She knew Noah was forcing her to discard her last shred of dignity.
She took a deep breath, her knees buckling as she knelt directly on the cold ground.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her head bowed so low that her voice was barely audible. "Please, forgive me."
Ethan's pupils contracted sharply as he stared at the kneeling Phoebe, a complex emotion surging within him.
He reached out, intending to pull her up, but stopped midway.
"Phoebe! After two years, you're still this pathetic for this man?" Ethan's voice carried suppressed rage.
Before he finished speaking, he snatched the glass from Grace's hand and flung its contents directly into Phoebe's face!
The cold liquid mixed with ice cubes splashed across Phoebe's face and hair. She remained motionless, kneeling there, allowing the alcohol to drip from her strands of hair.
"You disgust me!" Ethan spat out these words, clenched his fists, and stormed away.
Grace gave a satisfied snort and hurried after him.
At the club entrance, only the kneeling Phoebe and standing Noah remained.
Noah looked down at her and asked dispassionately. "Do you want to stand up now?"
Phoebe kept her head lowered, unmoving.
He stepped closer, crouched down, and gripped Phoebe's chin, forcing her to look up.
"You looked at me the same way back then," he mocked, the corner of his mouth twisting upward.
"For me, you were willing to hurt Vivian. Phoebe, is your love as worthless as your dignity is now?"
Tears of humiliation finally escaped Phoebe's eyes.
"Noah," Phoebe called softly. "I was your fiancée! Why were you so infatuated with Vivian?"
"What did you say?" He stared at her intently.
Phoebe looked at this face so close to hers, this face she had loved for ten years, and with all her remaining strength, said each word distinctly.
"I regret it."