"Bride, please put on your wedding dress."

His words brought Amelia Wytte back to a more cruel reality from the desperate abyss.

Amelia Wytte was trembling all over. That crazy Nicola Clinton .

The people in front of her, who were busy decorating for her, knew it's absurd, but they were as numb as usual.

Crazy! They were all crazy!

She suddenly pulled the crown, but in the next second, her hands were tightly clamped. "Miss , please cooperate."

Unable to move, Amelia Wytte could only be at the mercy of them, cold all over.

She looked up at her flaming lips and watery eyes in the mirror. The delicate jewelry and wedding dress made her more gorgeous.

She smiled bitterly, but her face was full of sadness.

It was drizzling.

This was probably the most low-key wedding ceremony in S city. There was no bride team, no bridesmaid, no guests

The car was driving on an empty road. Amelia Wytte faintly heard a burst of crying not far away. Her body stiffened. Thinking of the portrait that Nicola Clinton asked her to hold, her face instantly turned pale.

This was not a wedding. It was Bill Clinton 's funeral!

When she got out of the car, the four security guards surrounded Amelia Wytte, as if they were afraid that she would escape.

The gloomy and depressed atmosphere around made Amelia Wytte on the verge of collapse. She stood still and looked desperately at the people not far away who were mourning in pain

Although she was so far away, she still saw Nicola Clinton in the crowd

He was dressed in a pure black suit, and his expression was as solemn as if he had sunk into ice. He stood alone in the center, and even so, it could not cover up his handsome and tall figure.

Suppressing the despair in the bottom of his heart, Amelia Wytte stared at his back, as if he had felt something. He turned around and glanced coldly at Amelia Wytte.

"Miss Whytte , please." The security guard sensed the hint in his eyes and immediately escorted Amelia Wytte to the mourning hall.

Amelia Wytte was pushed too hard to keep up with her pace. The continuous cries and the heavy syllables of funeral music intertwined, and her eyes were dizzy.

"Bitch, who let you in?" Suddenly, a sharp and angry voice came from behind.

Before Amelia Wytte came to her senses, she was slapped hard on the face. She lost her balance and was beaten to bend her knees and half lie on the ground.

As soon as she raised her head, she saw Laura Kent's face full of resentment and disgust.

The pain of losing her son made this delicate middle-aged woman who had been well maintained ten years older in an instant. All her sadness now turned into hatred for Amelia Wytte.

"You... You are an unpardonable sinner. It's all your fault. You killed my son. I want you to pay for your life!"

Then Laura Kent slapped hard on the other side of Amelia Wytte.

It seemed that Amelia Wytte's head was no longer hers, and there was a taste of fishy sweetness in her nose. She had no doubt that Laura Kent had used up all her strength in these two slaps.

"Aunt, it's not me. I don't know what happened to Bill ..."

The bride's headwear had already been smashed. Lying on the ground, Amelia Wytte raised her head and explained stubbornly.

"Shut up! You are such a vicious and dirty woman. You are not qualified to call Bill 's name!" Laura Kent cursed in a hoarse voice, trembling violently.

The loud noise attracted many people's attention. They looked at Amelia Wytte with surprise and disgus.

The complicated dispute and the uncontrollable Laura Kent were undoubtedly shocking news. A reporter took the opportunity to secretly take photos of everything.

Amelia Wytte moved her mouth, but found that she was too weak to say a word. The rain and tears blurred her eyes, and only a strange and blurred face was reproaching her.

She was like a rat crossing the street in their eyes, and everyone wanted to step on her.

The abyss was getting deeper and deeper, and no one would be her saver.

Until a low and hoarse male voice came above her head. It was him. The heart of Amelia Wytte rose and fell. She was about to raise her head, but was stabbed by the following words.

"Mother, Bill likes her very much. Let's finish the wedding procedure and let him rest in peace." Nicola Clinton walked to Amelia Wytte, looked at the woman on the ground expressionlessly and pulled Laura Kent away.

Unexpectedly, Laura Kent pushed Nicola Clinton away. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were full of resentment. "It's all your fault. You are not kind-hearted at all!"

"You made him disabled when you were a child. When he grows up, you have to find jinx to keep him company and hurt him for a lifetime!" After saying that, Laura Kent covered her face in pain.

Speaking of Bill Clinton 's childhood experience, Nicola Clinton 's face stiffened and his thin lips tightened. He was speechless and looked a little depressed.

Amelia Wytte curled up and held her knees tightly. Her consciousness was somewhat absent-minded,she covered her ears but still heard clearyly the insult, curse and cry.

How could this be?

She had only been in a coma for one night, but when she woke up, everything had changed.

The boy who always liked to smile disappeared overnight. The man who always had a cold face but lived in her heart wished her to die. Everyone wanted her to die

Her hair was grabbed, and Amelia Wytte felt a tearing pain on her head, as if her scalp was about to be lifted.

"You killed my son. You will never have a good life for the rest of your life!" All of a sudden, Laura Kent seemed to have lost her mind. She grabbed Amelia Wytte's hair and pulled her towards Bill Clinton 's memorial plate.

"Kneel down!" Laura Kent kicked her knee , and the sharp heels seemed to separate her bones.

A cold chill came from the ground. Amelia Wytte's hands were tightly gripping the ground. This was the first time she knelt down in her life.

She had been the daughter of the Wytte family since she was a child. She had lived a proud and wanton life. Even if the Wytte family declined later, no one could make her kneel down

It was like she was in a trap full of fog. She had no evidence and conditions to resist and was forced to bear all these injuries.

"Kowtow to Bill !"

Amelia Wytte obstinately straightened her neck. Soon, two tall men behind her rudely pressed her head and forcefully pressed her on the ground.

Nicola Clinton stood not far away. His eyes were indifferent, but fixed on the thin figure who was unwilling to compromise. His eyes were a little complicated.

"Bill , it's not me..." a muffled sound came from the forehead and the cold tile, accompanied by a faint sob of Amelia Wytte, which was unusually sad.

"Bill , it's not me..." the man's strength was even heavier, and the voice of Amelia Wytte was hoarse.

"It's not me..."

At this time, a police car whistle came, and the heavy footsteps were as gloomy as the weather.

"Please come with us." The cold shackles locked the slender and thin wrists of Amelia Wytte.

Three years later.

It was April, and the rain in S city continued.

The club was shrouded in the smoke of the corridor. Beautiful women were teasing the guests, and a burst of harsh and ambiguous sound came.

Looking at the forced expression on her face in the mirror, Amelia Wytte pulled down the hemline of her skirt.

In the past three years, no more scars were left on her face, but her eyes lost their brightness and smartness

"Well, which room do you serve?" The woman who was fixing her makeup glanced at Amelia Wytte and gossiped.

"I'm a waitress serving wine." Amelia Wytte looked down.

"Oh, you have such a good figure. I thought..." the woman withdrew her sight and shrugged. "I heard that there is a distinguished guest tonight. If anyone serves him, she won't have to worry about her salary for several years."

In a twinkling of an eye, she found that Amelia Wytte had disappeared. The woman curled her lips disappointingly.

Amelia Wytte kept her head down and held the wine in her hand, as if all the noise around had nothing to do with her.

After she was released from prison, because of this stain, no company was willing to accept her. In order to make a living, she had to work in a night club with various people. She had to cause less trouble and be more tolerant. It was her principle not to make trouble.

"No. 302. Send the wine to the front room." The manager behind stopped Amelia Wytte.

It was a bottle of high-aged foreign wine. It was only for a valuable guest.

Be careful. Don't make any mistake!"

The spacious box was filled with a lively and extravagant atmosphere. The smell of cigarettes mixed with the ambiguous tone of men and women, making it like a stage drama.

Amelia Wytte carefully held the tray and walked to the center of the room.

"Well, Mr. Clinton ..." a sharp coquettish voice was heard, and immediately flattered.

Almost at the same time, Amelia Wytte looked over there subconsciously.

The tall and straight man, with his legs crossed lazily, put his slender and bony hand on the armrest of the sofa and lit up the cigar in his hand.

He was wrapped around a scantily dressed woman, revealing a large part of her snow-white back, and was rubbing the man's body in an ambiguous and strange posture.

After a while, the man frowned, impatiently pulled the woman away with one hand, and threw her on the sofa without hesitation.

At this time, even if the light was dim, Amelia Wytte could still see his face clearly.

His angular side face and slender eyebrows gradually overlapped with her face in her memory. He was as vigorous as he was three years ago.

Her hands trembled violently. The only thought in Amelia Wytte at this time was to run away.

She put the wine on the table in a hurry and wanted to leave.

"Miss Whytte ." At this time, her slender wrist was firmly gripped from behind.

Nicola Clinton said in a low and hoarse voice, "long time no see."

Amelia Wytte closed her eyes and didn't turn around. She shook her head and said, "you've got the wrong person.

As she spoke, she tried her best to get rid of his grip, but unexpectedly, he increased his strength.

Her thin shoulder was turned over forcefully, and Nicola Clinton looked down at her. His tall figure brought a heavy pressure.

"I will never forget you." There was a hint of mockery in his voice.

At this moment, his existence only made Amelia Wytte feel forced and scared.

Those young and frivolous love had been destroyed in that unfortunate prison.

"Oh, Mr. Clinton , I said you don't want a woman who was active. It seems that you have a hidden beautiful mistress." The young man beside cheered up.

"Yes, she is a little thinner, but she is quite cool and gorgeous. It turns out that Mr. Clinton likes this kind of girl..."

Hearing this, Nicola Clinton raised his eyebrows, loosened his grip and said lazily, "I don't like this kind of person."

Amelia Wytte seemed to have been used to his sarcasm, so she didn't say anything. But he said lightly, "help everyone. Drink all the wine."

For a moment, everyone looked at each other.

"Sorry, I can't drink, and I'm not responsible for drinking." Amelia Wytte was expressionless.

Nicola Clinton picked up his glass and chuckled, but there was no smile in his eyes. "It seems that your manager didn't teach the waiters well."

He raised his eyebrows slightly, clasped his hands, and wrapped his knees wantonly. "Maybe I should remind him."

Amelia Wytte's heart sank. The meaning of Nicola Clinton 's words was obvious. If she didn't drink, she would get her salary and get out of here.

At this time, several young men around also sensed that something was wrong.

The young master of the Clinton family had a weird temperament. He was a man of few words. He tried his best to send a woman to him, but he didn't even look at her.

But now he was forcing a waiter of low status

"I don't think so." A man with hair combed on his back laughed, took out his wallet and threw a pile of money on the table. "Beauty, you have drunk this wine, and the money will belong to you."

The men of high-ranking officials and wealthy businessmen didn't lack money the most when they played. Several people followed and threw a few wads of money.

Amelia Wytte clenched her fists.

She seemed to have no other choice from beginning to end.

She wanted to live. The torture in prison made her sick. She needed money and this job. She needed to live. She needed to find out the truth of the car accident and prove her innocence.

This was the only thing that supported her

"Thank you. I'll drink it." Without any hesitation, Amelia Wytte picked up the glass and gulped it down.

The pungent alcohol went through her throat and into her stomach. She couldn't help choking and wiped the corners of her mouth awkwardly.

Then, Amelia Wytte drank up all the wine in the cup in one breath, and felt a wave of nausea in her stomach.

Seeing this, Nicola Clinton sneered silently.

She really drank it.

She used to be as proud as a swan, and no one could do anything to her. Even if Laura Kent forced her to kowtow at the funeral, she was unwilling to compromise.

But now she had to get the money even though she had been insulted.

His eyes darkened and he put the goblet on the table.

"Didn't you say that you couldn't drink?" He sneered. When Amelia Wytte was about to pick up the stack of cash on the table, he waved his big hand and the pink cash fell all over the ground.

"Fuck off!" His expression was very calm.

Amelia Wytte's hand froze in the air, and the atmosphere in the room froze.

After a while, she forced a smile, half knelt down and picked up the notes scattered on the ground one by one.

Her ten fingers used to be clean, but now they were slightly callus.

Looking at the thin body squatting on the ground, Nicola Clinton silently pulled his tie, but he could not get rid of the irritable anger in his heart.

"Thank you." Amelia Wytte stood up and left the room in a neither humble nor pushy manner. Her eyes never fell on Nicola Clinton again.

The room returned to peace. The commotion in Amelia Wytte didn't affect much.

"She looks pure and lofty. I didn't expect that she was just that kind of slut." Watching her receding figure, the playboys smacked their lips in disappointment.

At this time, Nicola Clinton leaned back on the sofa, his long legs on the table and played with his cigar with an indifferent expression.

Seeing this, the man next to him smiled and asked tentatively, "Mr. Clinton , did you... Know each other before?" So serious.

Nicola Clinton narrowed his eyes, bit the cigar in his mouth, and his eyes were unpredictable. "Yes, an acquaintance."

Finally, she left the suffocating box. The expression on Amelia Wytte's face was relax and somewhat dull.

She hurried to the corridor and avoided the place behind her.

"Ah --" she was in a trance and bumped into a hard chest.

There was a faint Mint breath on the man's body, gentle and stable, which was incompatible with this place.

Amelia Wytte stopped and took a step back subconsciously. "I'm sorry."

Eden Hawk stood still and frowned slightly. She left in a hurry without even looking up at him.

He turned around and took a look at the slender figure. To him, that figure was very familiar.

"She's back..."

In the cramped and noisy lounge.

A group of women put on a heavy make-up on their faces and flirted with each other.

Amelia Wytte took a deep breath. As soon as she entered, the director shouted at her, "No. 302, what are you waiting for? The dance is about to begin. Why don't you change your clothes?"

She nodded.

There were often dance performances in the clubhouse, and dancers were well paid. When Amelia Wytte was a child, she had learned piano drawing and dancing all over, so it was not difficult to deal with such an occasion.

Now in order to make a living, as long as she could make money, she would try. Besides, except for the dance head, the rest of the dancers would wear masks and not show up in public.

"TSK... If you can reveal your body a little bit, you can mmake men off the stage fascinated." After changing clothes, the director's eyes lit up even he saw many beauties.

She wore a dark black shoulder length velvet dress, which was low-key in color, but made her skin as white as jade in Amelia Wytte.

The tight fitting cloth outlined the perfect figure of Amelia Wytte and revealed the curve.

The corners of Amelia Wytte's mouth twitched, but she felt a little uncomfortable. This dress was too...

"Hey, Lily , I really can't stand it. She is just a waitress. How can she steal the limelight from you?" Seeing this, the woman sitting in front of the mirror with makeup secretly rolled her eyes at Amelia Wytte and whispered.

Lily raised her chin and glanced at Amelia Wytte with a weird smile.

When they were about to go on the stage, the women straightened their backs and smiled the best, as if none of them wanted to lose.

Amelia Wytte didn't notice that her high-heeled shoes were stumbled by the hemline and she almost fell down.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lily walked beside her and asked with concern.

"Your mask is askew. Let me help you tidy it up." Without waiting for the response of Amelia Wytte, she took off the mask of Amelia Wytte and quickly put it on her again.

"Thank you."

As the music started, the audience had already been boiling. Seeing beautiful women coming up, the guests whistled excitedly.

"Lily is the most beautiful! Lily is the most beautiful!" Lily , the leading dancer, was the old trump card of the club with the most recognition. A greasy middle-aged man laughed and hooted under the stage.

Lily showed a smug smile.

With the change of the colorful lights on the stage, Amelia Wytte was dancing without distraction. All the disturbance off the stage had nothing to do with her.

Gradually, with the flow of dancing steps, people off the stage began to look at her.

"Did you see that the girl on the outsider is quite sexy?"

"Yes, yes. She doesn't look like a night club girl at all. She has an indescribable temperament, which is very seductive..."

People off the stage were gossiping, and all of them wanted to look at Amelia Wytte.

In a corner, Eden Hawk 's expression was a little complicated, and his eyes were fixed on Amelia Wytte.

She was supposed to be the proud and unrestrained lady of the Wytte family . She should be the queen of her own stage, not the dancing girl in the club.

His eyes had been following her, but she could only see that man in her eyes.

When he came back from his study, he heard the bad news that she was put in jail for murder.

"What on earth has she experienced these years?" There was a trace of pity in Eden Hawk 's eyes.

Halfway through the dance, Amelia Wytte felt the lace of her mask loosened when she turned around.

Her heart sank. She wanted to hold the mask, but it was too late. The mask fell to the ground with the swing of the mask--

The light just fell on her face in Amelia Wytte, and her face turned pale. Looking at the people off the stage who were focused on her face , she was stunned and stood still.

"Isn't she the eldest daughter of the Wytte family ?" A sharp voice suddenly sounded.

Amelia Wytte's body stiffened, and she subconsciously wanted to escape to the dark light.

"What's going on? Why does she become a dancing girl in the club?" the audience immediately began to discuss.

Seeing this, the crowd was in chaos. Seeing this scene, Lily , who was leading the dance, sneered.

Amelia Wytte felt that those harsh words and burning eyes seemed to peel off her clothes and chop her in the light.

She squatted down and covered her ears tightly, but those people's eyes followed her closely.

At this time, a suit jacket was suddenly covered on her shoulder. The coat was mixed with a faint Mint breath, which was somewhat familiar.

"Come with me." Eden Hawk 's gentle and deep voice brought a sense of relief.

Amelia Wytte was stunned. She looked up at the man who suddenly appeared in front of her. Why was he here?

Before she could react, Eden Hawk helped her up and left the stage quickly.

In the private room, the young man with his back to the table was browsing his mobile phone. He suddenly exclaimed, "there is a big show on the dance floor tonight!"

"What show?" Hearing this, several people curiously stuck their heads out.

"It said that a girl from a declining family went to be a dancing girl, and there was also a video..." she looked at the phone and said with great interest.

"Mr. Clinton , let's go to have a look together..." he urged eagerly.

Nicola Clinton stood up slowly, picked up his coat on the sofa and said expressionlessly, "I'm not interested." He walked out of the room.

However, as soon as he stepped out of the room, he saw a man and a woman standing side by side in the corridor.