My boyfriend, Brandon, was desperate to claw his way into elite social circles and insisted we go to that high-end club. I wanted to refuse, but his eyes were red as he swore it was his one big break. The moment we entered the VIP room, his childhood sweetheart Tiffany, draped in designer labels, sneered. “Brandon, is this your girlfriend? She looks awfully familiar. Isn’t she one of the dancers here?” “Last week, I saw you giving a lap dance to some old man. You were down to a G-string, but I admit, you have a good figure.” She finished, then feigned regret, covering her mouth. “Oops, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” The room of rich kids burst into laughter. “How much for a dance? Give me one too!” Brandon’s face turned crimson, then pale with humiliation. He pointed at the door and told me to get out. But I just slowly settled onto the sofa, watching Tiffany with a smirk. “It’s perfectly normal I look familiar. After all, your father was practically on his knees begging me for an investment last week. Also, this club is the least valuable property in my portfolio.”
To even enter The Summit Club, Brandon had spent half a year’s salary. Standing before its gilded doors, his palms were damp with sweat. He gripped my hand, his hold so tight it almost hurt. “Aria, once we’re inside, just smile and keep quiet.” He instructed me again, his voice trembling. “We can’t afford to offend anyone in there. Don’t you dare embarrass me.” I frowned, trying to pull my hand free, but he tightened his grip even more. “I know you don’t like these kinds of places, but this is about my future.” Brandon’s eyes were red, his words pleading. “If I can just get in with Chad, I can secure that construction project, and we won’t have to be stuck in our cramped studio, surviving on ramen anymore.” Seeing him so tense and yet so excited, I swallowed the words I was about to say. What I wanted to tell him was that I already had a membership card here – one of those Founder’s Black Cards that didn’t require any top-ups. As for Chad, I’d had him thrown out last week for smoking in a private room. But before I could speak, the doorman had already pulled open the grand doors. The moment the doorman saw me, his face went white. He instinctively began to bow and greet me. My gaze chilled slightly. I subtly raised a finger to my lips, signaling him to keep quiet. He reacted fast, stopping mid-bow, though the hand holding the door still trembled. Brandon was too busy taking deep breaths and composing himself to notice anything amiss. Brandon inhaled deeply, straightened his back, plastered on an obsequious smile, and pulled me inside. Pushing the door open, the room was thick with smoke, the music throbbed. A dozen or so impeccably dressed young men and women were sprawled on sofas, the coffee tables laden with expensive liquor. “Is this Brandon?” A guy with a buzz cut, sitting in the center, lifted his eyelids, casually glancing at us. It was Chad. Brandon immediately bent low, offering a box of cigars he’d clearly prepared, and even moved to light one for him. “Chad, hi, we met at the bar last time.” Chad didn’t take the cigar. He just scoffed, his gaze sliding past Brandon and landing on me. In that instant, I saw a flicker of confusion in his eyes. After all, I’d worn the same icy expression when I had him kicked out last week. Just then, a sharp female voice cut through the awkwardness. “Oh, is this Brandon’s girlfriend?” The woman sitting next to Chad stood up. She was wearing the latest Chanel, her makeup flawless, but her eyes held a distinct malice. Tiffany. Brandon’s childhood friend. And the woman who’d always kept Brandon on a leash, treating him like her personal backup. Brandon’s eyes visibly brightened when he saw her, then he looked a bit flustered. “Tiffany, you’re here too.” Tiffany ignored him, walking directly toward me and sizing me up. Then, she covered her mouth, feigning surprise as she exclaimed. “You look so familiar! Aren’t you the new stripper here?”
The music still played, but all other conversations died. A dozen pairs of eyes fixed on me, filled with amusement and disdain. Brandon’s smile froze. He instinctively let go of my hand and took half a step back. That simple action sent a chill through me. I raised an eyebrow, looking at Tiffany’s face, which was practically radiating malice. “Ms. Hayes, you shouldn’t just throw around accusations.” My tone was flat. Tiffany, however, laughed exaggeratedly, bending at the waist. She turned to the people in the room and declared loudly, “Why would I lie?” “Last week, I came here with Chad, and I personally saw her giving a lap dance to some old man!” She gestured with her hands as she spoke. “I saw the man’s back; he was short, fat, and bald, clearly a sleazy, newly-rich guy.” “That day, she was down to just a G-string! Her figure was actually pretty good!” “After the dance, she even left with that old man.” Finished, she turned, looking at Brandon’s ashen face, and blinked innocently. “Oh, sorry. I forgot she’s your girlfriend now. I shouldn’t have said anything.” “But Brandon, you’re so careless. How can you bring this kind of woman to a place like this?” “What if one of the regulars recognizes her? Where would Chad’s reputation stand then?” Her words instantly ignited the room. “Holy crap, she’s a stripper?!” “I knew it! Look at her cheap clothes, probably not even two hundred bucks head to toe. How else would she hook up with Brandon?” “Women these days will do anything for money.” “Dude, she’s openly making a fool of you, and you’re just gonna stand there?” Chad leaned back on the sofa, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Brandon, his eyes full of amusement. “Brandon, your taste is certainly… unique.” “How much does your girlfriend charge for a lap dance? Why don’t she give us one today?” Laughter erupted. Someone whistled, someone started chanting for me to take my clothes off. Brandon’s face cycled from green to white, veins throbbing on his forehead. He frantically glanced at the disgusted looks around him, then at me. A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes. But when Chad’s contemptuous laugh reached his ears, that hesitation twisted into ruthless self-preservation. He yanked his hand from mine, retreating to Tiffany’s side. Then, with an intentionally raised voice, he roared at everyone, “Aria! You’ve disappointed me so much!” “I brought you here to experience the world, and you’ve been doing… such despicable things behind my back!” I looked at the man I’d once thought was honest and reliable. “If I said it wasn’t true, would you believe me?” I countered. Brandon didn’t even look at me. He just gritted his teeth, turning to Tiffany with a placating smile. “Tiffany saw it herself. How could it be fake?” “No wonder you came home so late last Friday night and wouldn’t answer your phone!” “When I asked you where you were, you said you were working overtime! So, this is where you were working overtime?!” He spoke louder and louder, as if volume could drown out his own insecurity. “I’m slaving away for our future, and you’re doing such low-down dirty work behind my back!” “Aria, you disgust me!”
I looked at Brandon’s twisted face and smiled. Last Friday? Yes, I was indeed at The Summit Club, busy handling the equity transfers and management purge. I didn’t answer my phone because I was in a board meeting. And the sleazy, newly rich old man Tiffany described? That was her own father, Mr. Hayes. That day, Mr. Hayes had indeed hired a stripper for a lap dance at this very club, which I own. I was celebrating a friend’s birthday at the club at the time. Later, as my friend and I were leaving, Mr. Hayes suddenly spotted me. He cornered me in the hallway, crying and begging for more investment for his failing company. He even tried to kneel. It took a good while for my security guards to drag him out. “Well? Say something! Cat got your tongue?” Seeing my silence, Brandon assumed I was guilty, and his confidence swelled. Tiffany added fuel to the fire. “Brandon, don’t blame your girlfriend. After all, a place like The Summit Club is so expensive. If she wants a designer bag, she definitely has to pay a price.” She picked up a bottle of red wine from the table and walked over to me. “Since we’re all here to have fun, why don’t you show us what you’ve got?” “This bottle is Chad’s prized collection. If you can chug it all, I’ll consider it your apology.” With that, she flicked her wrist. Over half the bottle of red wine splashed directly onto my clothes. The liquid ran down my collar, soaking my white T-shirt, which instantly clung to my skin. When the wine was thrown, Brandon didn’t even try to shield me. Instead, he quickly jumped away, terrified of getting his expensive suit stained. “Oops, butterfingers.” Tiffany covered her mouth, but couldn’t hide the triumphant gleam in her eyes. “Sweetie, you’re not going to get mad, are you? It’s just a cheap knock-off anyway.” Everyone around roared with laughter. Chad slapped his thigh, pointing at me. “Alright, clean up that mess, and then get out.” “Don’t stand there in my sight, you’re ruining my mood.” I looked down at the wine stain on my chest, then at Brandon, who stood nearby with a look of utter disgust. “Brandon, this is the circle you want to be a part of?” I asked him coldly. Brandon avoided my gaze, gritting his teeth. “How much longer are you going to make a scene?” “Tiffany said it was an accident. Just apologize and leave.” “Don’t make things harder for me here!” Apologize? After being splashed with wine, slandered, and humiliated, he wanted me to apologize? In that moment, I finally understood. In this man’s heart, my dignity meant less than nothing to these trust fund babies. For his petty vanity, he would stomp me into the mud without a second thought. “Alright, fine.” I nodded, reaching for the tissues on the table, and slowly wiped the wine from my hands. “Brandon, remember what you just said.” I crumpled the soiled tissues into a ball and tossed them directly onto Brandon’s suit, the one he’d spent three months’ salary on. “What are you doing?!” Brandon shrieked, frantically batting the tissue ball off his suit. “Aria, are you crazy?! This suit is expensive!” “Since you think I’ve embarrassed you, let’s break up,” I said calmly. “From this moment on, we have nothing to do with each other.” Brandon froze, then his face flushed crimson. “Break up? Who the hell do you think you’re scaring?” “Who would want a dirty woman like you after me?” “Get out! Don’t ever let me see you again!!” He pointed wildly at the door, yelling like a madman.
Tiffany triumphantly linked her arm through Brandon’s, cooing. “Brandon, don’t be angry. She’s not worth it.” “Chad, tell security to kick her out. No need to spoil everyone’s fun.” Chad waved a hand. “Get the manager in here. Let him see what kind of trash they’re letting in.” The VIP room door swung open. Mr. Dawson, the General Manager of The Summit Club, rushed in, sweating profusely. He’d seen me enter this room on the surveillance cameras and was clearly terrified. “Chad, what can I do for you?” Mr. Dawson bowed, his tone deferential, but his eyes darted around the room, clearly searching for me. “Mr. Dawson, has The Summit Club’s standard dropped?” Chad pointed at me, his face full of disdain. “You just let any prostitute walk in here?” “Get her out, and don’t let me see her again.” Tiffany chimed in. “Exactly, Mr. Dawson. This woman is lowering The Summit Club’s class.” “Look, she’s even dirtied the floor. Make her kneel and clean it before she leaves!” Mr. Dawson followed their pointing fingers to me. When he saw the wine stain on my clothes and my disheveled appearance, the color drained from his face completely. He froze in place, his lips trembling, unable to speak. I calmly walked to the main leather sofa. The two trust fund babies who were sitting there instinctively started to curse when they saw me approach. But I just gave them a cold stare, and they inexplicably fell silent, even making way for me. I sat down, crossed my legs, and leaned back into the chair. I picked up an unopened bottle of Romanée-Conti from the table, weighing it in my hand. “Mr. Dawson.” I called out. Mr. Dawson shuddered, then dropped to his knees in front of me with a thud. That sudden genuflection stunned everyone. Brandon’s eyes nearly popped out. Chad’s wine glass slipped from his hand, hitting the floor and shattering. Tiffany’s smile froze. “Boss…” Mr. Dawson’s voice trembled, his forehead pressed to the floor. He didn’t dare lift his head. “This was my negligence. I deserve to die. I’m so sorry you were disturbed!” Boss? The word struck everyone like a hammer. Brandon’s mouth hung open, his eyes fixed on me as if seeing a stranger. Chad’s face drained of all color. He knew better than anyone who truly owned The Summit Club. That was Aria Knight, the heiress of the Knight Empire, a name the entire business elite knelt before. The woman rumored to possess a sharp mind, ruthless tactics, and a fortune in the billions. I ignored Mr. Dawson’s pleas and turned to Tiffany, who was now trembling in terror. “Tiffany, you called that old man short and ugly?” I rose slowly to my feet and advanced toward her, step by step. “Did you know that the ‘creepy old man’ begging me for an investment in the hallway, even trying to kneel, was your own father, Mr. Hayes?” “And this club? It truly is the least valuable of all my assets.”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “344660”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn
Leave a Reply