(A/N)
Dimitri is changed in this story. Instead of long brown hair, he has shorter black hair. He also only has one sister, Viktoria.
If you haven't noticed, I deleted all my prior stories, including this one. I took a break from this page for a long time, but since I returned I looked back and realized I didn't really like any of my old stories, and I wanted a fresh start. I'll stick around this time guys.

"Lissa, I do not fit in here. Why the hell did I ever allow you to drag me here?" She turned around to send me a confident grin and walked closer to the bar. Women openly glared at me and men gave me lustful glances. If I'd known it would be this bad, I would've opted for a long-sleeved gown, not a strapless mini dress.

"Believe it or not," Lissa said. "You stand out in a good way. You're beautiful." I rolled my eyes and she handed me a shot glass of something, which I quickly swallowed.

"You're hilarious, Liss." I scanned the crowd. Fewer people were staring now, but there was no mistaking the tension in the air. These people didn't like me and, honestly, the feeling was mutual. "I'm a high school drop-out stripper. I highly doubt anyone's jealous of my beauty." My best friend rolled her eyes and emptied her glass, setting it back down on the bar.

"Look, I have to go mingle with the boss. Maybe my presence at this damn party will earn me brownie points. I need that promotion." She flipped her long hair over one shoulder. "Coming?"

"No, he's the worst of all. It's no secret your boss is an asshole." She shrugged and made her way through the crowd, walking to where I presumed he was flirting with the young waitresses and would probably get one in bed tonight. He might be an asshole, but he was a good-looking asshole.

I turned the opposite way that she had gone and walked. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't just want to stand there looking lonely. Surely I could find someone to chat with until she was ready to go. My eyes landed on a man in the corner. He was different from the rest. His black hair was messy, almost as if he hadn't even cared to comb it this morning, but it was sexy as hell.

I noticed he was over six feet tall, probably six-six. His dark brown eyes moved over to make contact with my own and my breathing stopped as I looked into the dark, intense orbs. I looked away, gasping. Quickly, I gathered up all my courage and looked him back in the eyes. A smirk played on his pink lips and I took a few steps toward him, swaying my hips with my movements.

When I reached him I tilted my head up to keep eye contact and sent him an alluring smile.

"My name is Rose Hathaway," I whispered. "Yours?"

"Dimitri Belikov."

That was then. This was now. He was no longer the sweet guy that would buy me flowers or take me out to eat. Now he was an abusive asshole that I couldn't leave because for some insane reason, I loved him.

"Roza," he whispered, his accent making my shiver. I felt his breath on my neck and his arms around my waist.

"Yes?"

"It's been a while." Two days, I thought to myself.

But aloud I replied, "It has." There was no use in fighting. In the end he would get what he wanted. So I turned around and crashed my lips to his and moved my hands to started pulling his shirt up, revealing his tan stomach.

There was no escaping this prison, this prison of pain. I worked nights as a stripper, a job he wouldn't let me quit. At first it was because he didn't want to be the reason I quit a dependable job, and I believed him. Then it was because it kept me flexible. Then it was because he said so, and I had no choice. Maybe it was so it would make me seem like less, as if I was scum.

Finally getting his shirt off, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his hair gently. He grinned and let me go, falling back on the bed. Then he nodded, signaling for me to go. I used one of my job moves and walked to his seductively before I got on the bed and started crawling, kissing my way up his chest to his neck. I slowly moved my hips in a circular pattern. He let out a small groan.

Sometimes I didn't even feel like his girlfriend. I was more like his toy that he used. If there wasn't sex involved, he didn't want me. I was nothing to him. But that didn't lessen my love for him. Who knew? Maybe one day he'd learn to love me back. Until then, I'd have to settle with what I had.

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Short, but it is a prologue. Please review and tell me what you think?