Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries.

Warning: This is intended for a mature and broad-minded audience due to my writing style, which tends to have a dark undertone.

A/N: I'm very grateful for all of the lovely support! Thank you. I'm glad my story is being given a chance. Here's the second chapter. Enjoy!


Chapter Two

"I can't do that!" protested an incredulous Caroline, her emerald eyes widening in utter disbelief while she gingerly gestured toward the stage with an elbow, mindful of the two whiskey drinks in her hands.

She was, for once, grateful for the heavy layers of clown-like makeup plastered on her face, knowing her face was burning a bright scarlet underneath.

"You either do it, or you get fired," contemptuously answered a masculine voice.

Caroline's small fingers tightened around the glass, her knuckles turning white. She quickly looked away before he saw the anxiety undoubtedly swirling in her eyes, an instinctive reaction evoked by the familiar threat he had been spewing for the last couple of hours. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

As her hidden gaze wandered on to the stage she had been pointing toward earlier, a chill of panic ran down her spine.

She couldn't do it.

It was one thing to wear an outrageously revealing outfit, something that did help in attracting more customers, thus bettering the chances of receiving bigger tips, but stripping was a different matter completely.

Putting on a façade of confidence when customers unashamedly ogled her, and threw crude suggestions her way was difficult enough as it was, she couldn't imagine being able to convincingly pretend to be a vixen while she undressed on stage.

She involuntarily cringed as she watched the current girl on the stage seductively lick a pole, eliciting a loud, appreciative reaction from the drunken men in the club. They were clapping and yelling as if it were the most amazing thing they had ever seen. Even through the billowing clouds of smoke, she could still see some of the more lecherous men reaching for their groins, thinking the tables and dim lighting were enough to hide what they were doing.

Gentlemen's club, right, she thought sarcastically.

'Gentlemen' would not be the word she would choose to describe the type of men she had to deal with on the job. In fact, it was possibly the last thing she would ever think to call them.

More like a club full of-

"Well?" rudely prompted the voice, interrupting her scathing thought.

Even with the noise of the blaring music and loud uproar from the crowd pounding in her ears, she could hear him perfectly, he had a distinctly commanding voice. A deep voice that she knew many women found alluring, one that over the past couple of hours she had come to dread yet again.

She tore her gaze away from the stage and looked over to the owner of the voice, the man who had been threatening to fire her for what seemed to be the millionth time this night

Tyler Lockwood, manager of the seedy gentlemen's club she worked in, was good-looking. The female employees that constantly flocked to him without trying to hide their obvious interest in him were proof of that.

He had short raven hair, dark eyes, surrounded by ridiculously long lashes, which glittered like coal, and sun-kissed skin. He was well-built, yet not very tall. Not short, either. In his customary business suit, befitting of his position, he looked polished and professional, everything she knew he was not.

She had to admit that, superficially, he appeared to be quite a catch.

If she hadn't discovered his deceptive, misogynistic, and self-absorbed attitude, Caroline would have regretted not having had accepted to go on one of the many dates he asked her out on a few years ago.

She was secretly thankful her busy schedule, which often made her feel lonely by limiting her time to socialize and make friends, had helped her dodge that bullet.

Caroline recalled that with each rejection, he had become increasingly cold toward her, constantly reminding her, in what he considered to be "subtle" ways, that he was the one in charge, that he could end her only source of income on a whim. In her opinion, Tyler was about as subtle as a gun.

It angered her to think that she once had a crush on him.

A long time had passed since she first met Tyler, asking for employment. She remembered that in her desperation she had told him about the dire financial situation she was in, hoping to convince him to hire her, promising him that she was a hard worker. Much to her surprise, he did hire her and even gave her sweet words of encouragement. It was in that moment that her crush began, but the kind, gentle man with whom she became infatuated with, the very same one that, for a fleeting moment, had been the focus of her dreams, ended up being one of her worst nightmares.

In the end her crush had been brief, about as brief as Tyler's "nice guy" act.

She sometimes regretted having told him of her financial trouble, wishing she had kept that fact to herself, however, she often wondered if that was the main reason why he had hired her to begin with, not to help her out of the goodness of his rotten heart as she once gullibly thought, but to use it against her.

Every time she reminisced back to when she found him charming, even sweet, she had the urge to slap herself.

Definitely a wolf in sheep's clothing, Caroline thought, as she presently restudied Tyler's deceiving good looks.

He was as attractive as he was temperamental, his extremely volatile temper carefully hidden underneath his charming façade.

When it really came down to it, in the beginning, the worst part of her job had not been dressing in scandalous clothing, exposing more skin than what she was comfortable with, or flirting out of necessity with perverted customers that occasionally tried to grope her. No, all of that was easily tolerable in comparison. The worst part was being Tyler's personal doormat.

She quickly learned how to handle intoxicated men with lewd intentions, but she never learned how to handle Tyler, for he was in a whole different league. Alcohol never seemed to dull his sharp mind, deceiving him was impossible, whereas drunk customers easily bought into her lies, and unlike other men, he was never dissuaded by her polite indifference.

Even with her tremendous self-discipline, there were many occasions in where she was tempted to yell at him, or at least say something back when he insulted her, but knowing he was only looking for an excuse to fire her, she had swallowed her pride and allowed him to have his childish fun.

Caroline had assumed he would eventually tire of taunting her, but she had been wrong, very wrong.

He had continued, without any indication of stopping anytime soon, to make her job as stressful as possible and would have continued doing so until she probably quit.

As much as she had felt the urge to quit her degrading job, despite her resilience, on more than one occasion during the first few months, especially under Tyler's constant torment, she knew it was the only way she could continue to pay for her Grandmother's medication and treatments.

The city she had moved into with her grandmother wasn't very big, and with its Vegas-like reputation and atmosphere for indulging sins, it was far from her interpretation of picturesque, but it was the only city in the state that had an affordable oncology center. It wasn't a great place, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

Unsurprisingly, if you were a young female without a college degree, had minimal work experience, and you needed to make good money in this city, your job options were limited and unsavory.

Initially, she refused to even consider those questionable options, disregarding the abundant, racy neon signs she had seen come alive at night to beckon men like moths to a flame. She was determined to find a job outside of stripping, cocktail waitressing, or any other strip club associated job that involved minimal clothing and degradation. Luckily for her, she quickly found employment in a thrift store close to her apartment complex, which even spared her from taking the dreaded city bus.

During that time, she genuinely thought everything was starting to look up, even her grandmother seemed livelier.

However, her optimistic outlook was short-lived, the income derived from the few hours she worked there wasn't anywhere near enough to cover her small bills, much less the bigger ones accumulated by her grandmother's illness.

She then decided to take on a second job at the pizza parlor across the store, hopeful that the additional money would lessen her debts, but even with that money, the bills and debt were still stacking up, drowning her.

It wasn't long before she started to look at the neon signs with curiosity, then desperation.

Caroline always liked to think she chose the least demeaning job, but the way Tyler always insulted her, made her feel like a cheap sell out, not to mention the times he thoroughly looked her over in her very revealing uniform.

She knew he liked making her feel terrible, she could see it in every mocking smirk and wink he threw her way.

Unfortunately for him, and luckily for her, Stefan Salvatore, the bartender and the brother of the club's owner had taken a platonic liking to her, ending his reign of terror.

Whenever Tyler got too carried away with his harshness and was particularly nasty to her, Stefan would intervene on her behalf.

It wasn't as if Caroline was weak, she had been through many more challenging obstacles in her life, and she had been able to endure Tyler's treatment for an entire year on her own, but she was still extremely grateful for her ally.

Stefan didn't have to filter his words like she did, and Tyler couldn't manipulate his behavior by threatening to fire him.

Ever since she and Stefan had developed their friendship, Tyler's comments were kept to a minimum. He was still a temperamental jerk, but with Stefan around he was more bearable to work with.

She gave a small, tremulous sigh, desperately wishing Stefan had been working tonight.

Tyler always took advantage of the rare occasions in which Stefan didn't work. He would always seat more customers than she could handle in her section, make snide comments, or even call her in to work ridiculously early.

She was used to that petty pattern of his, it didn't faze her anymore, but tonight it was different.

He was different.

Crueler, angrier, and more… Unhinged.

This man, this version of Tyler Lockwood, made her heart thunder in panic.

She couldn't explain it, but tonight she was genuinely wary of him. He practically exuded violence, it was almost as if he were barely holding back from doing something terrible. A ticking time bomb waiting to go off. She could see it in the way his body was rigidly tense, his hands constantly finding something to crush in between them, his back and forth pacing reminiscent of a caged predator.

Every time he got near her, her instincts screamed at her to put distance between them.

The anger that shone in his eyes every time she defied him tonight made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and her heart race.

He used to make her heart race whenever he was near a few years ago, much like he was doing now, except that her heart was currently beating in alarm, not in exhilaration.

Tyler was making her work a longer shift than usual on her "day off", and earlier had made her perform additional duties that she knew for a fact were not in her cocktail waitress job description. When she had pointed that out to him, he had furiously given her an ultimatum that seemed to become his newest mantra, either she did what he asked or he would fire her. At one point, she could have sworn he actually snarled at her.

Now he expected her to leave her tables unattended, miss out on the tips she had been working toward, and to take the stage and strip.

Caroline glanced over at the bar, an image of Stefan's kind, handsome face flashing in her mind, her eyes darted to the luxurious charm bracelet encircling her delicate wrist, and then she straightened her spine. Being friends with Stefan had built up all of the self-confidence that Tyler had previously set out to destroy.

She wasn't going to do it. Enough was enough. If it came down to it, she would rather get fired and beg Stefan for her job back, than to keep her job by stripping at Tyler's command.

Caroline refused to be reduced to being his personal doormat again.

Once had been more than enough for her.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep, stabilizing breath, feeling Tyler's eyes on her.

"Go ahead, fire me," she answered him dismissively, turning to deliver the two whiskey drinks in her hands to their rightful tables. She had tried to make her voice sound as steady as possible, but in spite of her effort, it still came out slightly wobbly.

She had had barely moved a foot when a large hand encircled her thin, upper arm in a vise-like grip.

The glasses in her hands almost slipped, sloshing their alcoholic content over her cleavage and bare midriff as Tyler harshly spun her around to face him.

Her vision swam from the swiveling momentum, unsteady legs threatened to give out underneath her, but Tyler's bruising grip kept her from falling.

His fingers painfully curled into her arm.

"Let go," she demanded, horrified of his hold and his nearness. The strong smell of his cologne, intermingled with the aroma of spilt whiskey, was overpowering her sense of smell to the point of being nauseating.

He was so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, his hot breath fanning against her.

Judging by the odd, almost glowing glint in his eyes, she could tell he was losing control of his infamous temper.

She tried jerking her arm free, but his grip never budged. He replied to her struggling by tightening his grip even further. His incredible strength made her realize how truly vulnerable she was to him.

Her eyes searched around, hoping to find someone to help her, but she knew that the customers were either too busy spectating, or too drunk to help. The few female employees that were close by, gave her envious looks, clearly misinterpreting the situation.

Tears started stinging her eyes from the pain, but she tried blinking them away, refusing to spill tears in Tyler's repugnant presence even as he almost broke her arm.

Glancing anxiously toward the warm, yet brutal hand on her arm, she reasoned that the actual probability of her arm being broken was quickly rising, along with the pain.

"Let go, p-please," she supplicated him, breathing the words through gritted teeth. How she hated begging for anything or to anyone, especially to him.

Tyler didn't loosen his grip as he leant his head down, whispering over the music into her ear.

"You think Stefan is going to get you your job back if I fire you, don't you?" he sneered, glancing at her luxurious bracelet.

She stiffened.

Yes, her mind supplied for her. That's exactly what she thought, but she didn't want to aggravate him even more, knowing how much he hated being reminded of Stefan's higher authority in comparison to his own.

"No", she replied, lifting her chin in convincement, but her eyes betrayed her.

Tyler's eyes narrowed, a knowing expression dawning on his face as he abruptly released her, forcefully shoving her away.

Caroline staggered back, but found her footing before she careened into a passing co-worker.

She glared back at him, determined not to let her fear show, even though she definitely felt scared. His roughness had taken her by surprise.

"You'll bore him eventually," Tyler promised, disdain coating every word.

"Bore him of what? Being friends?" She sarcastically snapped, annoyance flickering in her green depths at the insinuation.

"Spare me the act," he accused, his eyes locking on hers. "We both know why Stefan keeps protecting you, but even you should know that he will get tired of you sooner or later", he continued insultingly, "and when he does, what will you be left with? You will no longer have a job here, and every club in this damn city will know of your ineptitude and subpar performance as an employee. I'll make sure you're never hired again."

Caroline wanted to say something, she really did, but all she could do was stand there mutely while Tyler spun on his heel and began walking back into his office, not sparing her a second glance.

She looked down at the two glasses still firmly held in her hands, and released a shuddering breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. She wasn't sure if she was technically fired or not, but she was anxious to leave. Glancing down at her watch, she was relieved to see it was already 3:45 AM, signaling the end of her extended shift.

Caroline approached the nearest unoccupied table she could find, gently depositing the empty glasses on it. On any other given day, she would have taken the glasses back to the dishwasher herself, but she was too tired, not to mention she wasn't particularly looking forward to running into one of Tyler's devoted fans. Some of her co-workers already disliked her enough as it was for being friends with Stefan, she couldn't even begin to imagine how more rude they would be toward her, if they thought her and Tyler were involved somehow. It was comical to her, hysterical even how blinded some of her co-workers were by Tyler's charm.

She rubbed her aching arm, gingerly avoiding the outlined fingers on it, knowing a bruise would undoubtedly form there.

That's when she noticed her bracelet was missing. She looked for it on the surrounding floor, but couldn't locate it. Carefully retracing her steps, she eventually found it in the place where she and her manager had been 'talking'. Her eyes furrowed as she assessed what she had previously thought was her bracelet. It was torn and misshapen, and if it weren't for the familiar charms crookedly hanging off it, she would have never guessed it was the once beautiful bracelet Stefan had given her.

"It's destroyed," she sadly whispered to herself, gazing at it in her small hand.

A deep resonating laugh caught her attention. She glanced over to the office, cringing as she saw Tyler intently observing her from the door frame of his office.

Bastard.

Marching up to him, and ignoring her self-preservation instincts, she dangled the bracelet in front of his smirking face.

She intended to be angry, and fearless as she asked, "Are you the one responsible for this?"

But her voice didn't have the desired effect as Tyler nodded and gave her a look full of contempt that made her take a cautious step back.

"You had no right to-"she began scolding, before Tyler abruptly cut her off by slamming the door in her face.

She nervously sighed, and couldn't help but wonder how on earth he had so thoroughly broken her bracelet with only his bare hands. She knew he was strong, but being able to bend a thick, platinum bracelet beyond the point of recognition required some serious strength.

Glancing down at her arm, the physical reminder of his brute strength, she shuddered in remembrance of its force.

Defeated and thoroughly shaken, she quickly made her way to the break room to gather her belongings and leave. Glancing down at her watch, she quickened her steps, knowing she had little time to catch the last bus home. Stefan wasn't here to give her a ride, she felt her heart twinge in discomfort as she thought about him. If he were here tonight, Tyler would have never done what he had, he was too much of a coward in Stefan's presence.

Entering the break room, she approached her assigned locker. Her hands trembled as they hastily undid the lock. She grabbed her pink coat and shrugged it on, wrapping the belt around her waist. Usually she would take off most of the excessive makeup in the employee bathroom, but she didn't have sufficient time for that now. Grabbing her purse, she practically ran out of the 'employees only' door, racing down the street like a lunatic to reach the bus stop on time.