NOVPUB
Chapter 37 - 37- earn money
On a night when the lights first illuminated the streets, the bustling thoroughfare shimmered with neon lights, and the exciting nightlife began to unfold.
In a bar filled with the intoxicating scent of money and pleasure, Cynthia hurriedly walked toward a private room, carrying a large tray of fine liquor. She heard that this room had been booked for the night by the renowned chief prosecutor, Karl.
Of course, she was familiar with the name Karl, intimately familiar, in fact. He was the arrogant and opportunistic Dylan, the one who had personally crushed her love.
She didn't shy away; by now, she no longer cared about his opinion of her. No! In fact, he had never regarded her at all. In his eyes, she had always been the most neglected member of the Lancaster family, the one with the least value.
As she walked down the long corridor, the flickering lights cast shadows on her pale face. Remembering the past, she felt her strength wane and decided to lean against the wall, putting her full weight against it, and gently lifted her head.
At the end of the corridor, a man in a light gray suit walked casually toward her, exuding an air of elegance and nobility, with a faint, polite smile at the corners of his eyes. Beside him, a woman in a colorful, flowing ethnic dress intimately linked her arm with his, laughing and chatting merrily.
In the noisy corridor, the appearance of this strangely behaving pair drew the attention of several people. As the expression of the leading man darkened suddenly, the crowd behind him fell silent.
The sudden stillness brought Cynthia back to reality, and she inexplicably felt a cold, piercing gaze directed at her face. Turning her head, she met the eyes of the group at the other end.
The man in a sharp business gray suit had a gloomy expression and piercing eyes, while the enchanting woman was stunningly beautiful, her smile captivating. A few men behind them looked at her with a mix of admiration and eagerness.
It was no wonder the men were so captivated, as she was wearing a sizzling black sequined mini dress that was as short as it could be, barely covering her hips and shamelessly exposing her long, slender legs to everyone.
The deep V-cut neckline drew attention to her chest, tantalizingly hinting at what lay beneath. She couldn't help it; did she expect to wear long pants and cover herself up to sell drinks in this environment?
Who among the guests here was easy to handle? If not for Bonnie's father secretly advising her, she wouldn't have made it this far in such a chaotic and decadent place without incident.
Although Bonnie's father was ruthless and cold-hearted in the underworld, he was exceedingly fond of Bonnie. Perhaps he felt he owed her mother a great deal. Apart from not being able to openly acknowledge her as a member of the Laurence family, he had given her everything he could.
The moment she made eye contact with that man, she sensed the anger rising in his eyes. On her wedding day, she had presented a heavily made-up image to the crowd, but today she was bare-faced. Others might not know her true identity, but he surely recognized her.
It seemed that all her disguises were laid bare before him, and she suddenly felt like a transparent person in his presence. How could it be that their paths crossed repeatedly when they clearly should have had no connection?
Her luck was truly terrible!
Cursing silently in her heart, she pretended to be nonchalant, lowering her head as she held the drinks and turned to walk toward the designated private room. She hoped that this man would pretend not to recognize her, especially if he didn't want to lose face.
After she stepped away, the man behind her also walked forward gracefully, but the coldness emanating from him intensified, chilling her to the bone and giving her goosebumps as if she had entered a December winter.
Walking nervously ahead, she felt an unsettling chill as that group followed closely behind her. Her heart raced with fear when she heard the beautiful woman beside him softly ask,
"Darling, doesn't that young lady look familiar?"
She stumbled slightly, almost falling, then quickly straightened her back, unwilling to reveal her tension and discomfort. Behind her, Albert Wilson's eyes burned with fury at the sight of her sizzlingly short skirt. At that moment, Monica leaned in and whispered in his ear,
"Brother, why do I feel like that lady resembles your second sister-in-law?"
His head buzzed with anger, and he immediately shouted at Monica,
"Shut up!"
The loudness of his voice startled everyone, including Cynthia, who had finally managed to walk steadily in front. This time, she almost spilled all the drinks in her hands. Luckily, they had arrived at the door of the private room; otherwise, she feared her heart wouldn't be able to take it if this continued.
After his shout, Monica shot him a disgruntled glance but obediently fell silent. She was still quite perceptive; although he usually indulged her, he had his limits. However, his furious reaction confirmed for her one thing: the petite woman walking ahead was indeed her little Cynthia.
Although on the wedding day she was heavily made up, making it difficult for anyone to see her true appearance, her pair of proud, sparkling eyes couldn't be concealed by any amount of makeup. Today, when she looked at this woman, she felt a sense of familiarity in her gaze. After some confirmation, it turned out that her intuition was quite accurate.
Oh dear, she found herself admiring this once again!
Doing her best to ignore the murderous glare, Cynthia stood in front of the private room, took a deep breath, and was just about to raise her hand to knock on the door when a cold voice suddenly echoed,
"Are you here to deliver drinks to this room, miss?"
No matter how composed she usually was, at this moment she felt her soul leave her body. In her panic, she turned to see the man stepping right in front of her. He wore a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes, making her feel a chill run down her spine.
With difficulty, she managed to stammer out a few words, her teeth chattering,
"Uh... yes..."
Oh God! Please let him not be the host of this room tonight!
"Come in," he said casually, then raised his hand to push the door open.
At that moment, she was completely panicked. Despite having been in this business for so long without encountering him, why was she so unlucky today? And on top of that, she was here trying to sell drinks in his private room—a room that the manager had specially given her for Wilson, and it was the most expensive one available tonight.
In the next moment, the tray that was teetering in her hands was taken over by someone. Strong hands promptly wrapped around her slim waist, steadying her wobbling figure, and before she knew it, she was held tightly in his embrace. The man's warm breath seeped through the thin fabric of her outfit, warming her skin that was slick with cold sweat.
Behind her, a chorus of laughter erupted from the group of men, causing her face to flush with embarrassment. They must have interpreted this incident as her making a bold move to throw herself at him. This was exactly the kind of ambiguous play they loved to watch.
Hastily pushing him away, she mumbled her thanks as she took the tray from his hands, opened the door to the private room, and stepped inside. The room was still empty, indicating that he was the host for the evening and the guest, Karl, had yet to arrive.
He, along with the woman beside him and the group of officials, followed her into the room. After they sat down, the beautiful woman leaned lazily against him, staring at her without blinking. Cynthia met the woman's gaze confidently.
Strangely enough, there was no trace of displeasure in the woman's eyes; instead, there was an air of admiration. However, no matter her attitude, being scrutinized like a commodity was uncomfortable, especially given her current line of work.
The men started to sing karaoke, opening the room to a lively atmosphere. She forced herself to return to her role, cheerfully promoting the expensive drinks to them. 𝓷ℴ𝓋𝓅𝓊𝒷.𝒸𝓸𝓶
Yet, each time she spoke with enthusiasm, a sharp gaze would pierce through the noisy crowd from the corner, and her energy would immediately deflate.
In the dim corner of the room, Albert Wilson sat, drinking indifferently, occasionally exchanging a few words with those beside him, exuding the aura of a decision-maker. His wandering gaze seemed to be looking elsewhere, yet it always landed on her unnoticeably.
Today, she hadn't put on heavy makeup; she had only drawn a thick black eyeliner that arched enticingly, enhancing the allure of her eyes. It was just right for her current job.
Usually bare-faced, her large, dark eyes gave off a lazy charm when not lined, but now, with the bold eyeliner, her eyes sparkled with life, making her appear both seductive and full of character.
At this moment, she was sitting among the group of men, smiling charmingly as she skillfully promoted the drinks to them. He found it hard to imagine that the woman who always wore an indifferent expression in front of him could smile so seductively. Judging by her demeanor, she must have been doing this job for quite some time.
The lustful gazes of the men seemed to strip her bare, and one bold hand even took the opportunity to roam up her thigh, yet she continued to act as if nothing were happening.
The more he watched, the more irritated he became. After all, she was his wife, Albert Wilson. If she truly needed money, he would not hesitate to help her out, considering their relationship. Or was this really her true nature? Putting on a facade of being high and mighty while actually being so debased and indulgent at heart?
As one song ended, a man called out, "Miss, why don't you sing a song for us? If you do, we'll buy you a bottle of wine!"
"Sure!"
Cynthia smiled and got up to take the microphone.
In her line of work, the key was to pique the customers' interest and stimulate their spending habits, employing different strategies for different individuals.
If some wanted to drink, she had to toast with them frequently; if others had ulterior motives, she needed to let them have a little advantage; and if a customer was looking for excitement, she would dance with them or engage in some light gambling. But above all, she must not forget her ultimate goal: to get them to drink more, so she could earn more.
