Johnson My Ex Wants Me Back

Betty POV

My eyes darted around the club, my heart pounding against my ribs. Johnson hadn’t come yet. Every second stretched too long, and the crowd around me blurred into shadows. I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach, the sickening certainty that tonight could ruin everything.

“You sure you can do this?” Bruno asked the moment he spotted my changed outfit.

I forced a nod, and stretched my hands over my thigh and adjusted my top, suddenly too aware of how exposed I felt beneath the lights.

“You know you don’t have to do this,” Bruno said quietly, his eyes narrowing as he studied me.

I swallowed hard, blinking back the rising panic. “You won’t understand,” I whispered. “Johnson won’t accept a simple no. And his mother… she won’t stop until I’m gone.”

Gertrude Johnson had made her intentions clear. I would never be good enough for her son. Quietly or brutally, she had told me she would not stop until she erased me from his life.

“So this is the only way,” I continued, my voice trembling. “If Johnson believes I betrayed him, he will walk away on his own.”

Bruno’s jaw tightened. “And you think that will save you.”

“It is the only thing that might,” I said, blinking back tears. “Once he leaves me, she will finally be satisfied.”

The bass vibrated through the floor as Bruno exhaled slowly. “Has he arrived?”

“Yes. He is waiting for you at the wing.” Bruno pointed into the crowd.

My gaze landed on a big man with tattoos crawling up his face and a cigarette dangling from his lips. When he smiled at me, my stomach twisted violently.

“Oh God,” I muttered, sweat forming on my palms.

“I have to go,” I said, my voice barely audible. Bruno did not stop me. He turned back to the bar, and I swallowed hard, bracing myself as I walked toward the man I had paid to play a role in my destruction.

His eyes roamed over me openly, and bile rose in my throat.

“Hola, preciosa,” he said with a crooked smile.

“I do not understand you,” I snapped over the music. “Just hold my waist and let us get this over with.”

I snatched the cigarette from his fingers and crushed it beneath my heel. “I do not want to get burnt.”

Before I could react, his hands clamped around my waist, pulling me hard against him. He murmured words I did not understand, his breath hot against my ear.

My stomach lurched, nausea flooding me. I struggled, panic clawing at my chest. He loosened his grip slightly, still smiling, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment.

My gaze darted to the entrance. Please come now, Johnson.

I forced myself to move, grinding against the man as the music slowed, my body acting while my soul shattered. Every motion was part of a lie I had to live to protect us, to obey her cruel instructions.

Just endure this. This is the price.

Then it happened.

A scream cut through the music.

The grip on my waist vanished and I stumbled forward. Confusion blurred my senses as I looked up.

Johnson stood before us, his face twisted with rage.

The man beside me lay on the floor, blood trickling from his split lip.

“Is this what you do?” Johnson thundered, his eyes blazing.

“I… Johnson, I—” My voice failed me.

This was not how I planned it. I wanted him to see and walk away. No blood. No chaos.

Everything erupted.

Johnson lunged. The man scrambled up, swinging wildly. Instinct took over—I screamed, grabbed, and flailed—but a hard shove sent me crashing to the floor. Pain shot through my side as the world spun.

“Stop! Please!” I cried, reaching for him, my voice lost in the music and the screams.

“Get your filthy hands off me!” Johnson spat, his anger raw and shaking.

The crowd panicked, scattering, screams cutting through the bass. Then a sharp cry pierced the chaos.

Johnson staggered back, clutching a bleeding shoulder.

The man grinned, a small knife glinting in his hand.

Rage surged through me. I lunged, but a strong hand seized my arm.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bruno barked, his presence cutting through the chaos.

Everything froze for a split second.

“They just started fighting,” I sobbed.

Johnson turned on Bruno. “How come? I thought she was under your care.”

“Yes,” Bruno said coldly. “She does this for extra cash.”

My breath left my lungs. “Bruno, no.”

“After everything I have done for you,” Johnson cried, his voice breaking. “I begged you not to work here.”

“Johnson, please,” I pleaded, stepping toward him. “You are bleeding. Let me explain.”

His gaze sliced through me.

“Do not come near me,” he said hoarsely. “So you’ve been sleeping around this whole time.”

“Johnson—”

“Fuck away, Betty,” he said quietly. “It is over.”

He turned and walked out.

I stayed frozen, my chest tight, my heart collapsing inward.

This is what you do for love when the family of the man you love will never accept you. His mother’s plan had worked. He would leave thinking I betrayed him.

“Hey! Get out of here now!” Bruno spat at my dance partner, dragging me away as my legs trembled beneath me.

I held my stomach, my chest heaving, the taste of bitter tears filling my mouth.