Desperate, she swallowed her pride and approached a woman she had once scorned—a former mistress of her father. The woman, now running an exclusive private club, agreed to let Amber work there as a server.
Word of the fallen heiress working among common folk spread quickly. Some customers, driven by curiosity and cruelty, flocked to the club, eager to savor the spectacle of her downfall. Reduced to her lowest point, Amber endured evenings serving drinks and fending off the leers of men old enough to be her father, sometimes her grandfather, just to earn enough to survive.
When Calvin discovered this, his fury was volcanic. He smashed a room full of expensive liquor bottles, the shards reflecting his outrage.
"Amber," he thundered in front of everyone at the club, "I'll give you a home. You can't lower yourself to this. You're better than this. The Amber I know has a spine and doesn't bow to anyone."
And he did give her a home. But Calvin also took her dignity, piece by piece.
When Harvey, Calvin's grandfather, mocked Amber as unworthy of the Sawyer name, Calvin didn't defend her. Instead, he smirked and assured Harvey he'd grow tired of Amber within three years and move on.