The loud, pulsing music thrummed beneath their feet, making the ground vibrate as Joan and Ariel stepped into the upscale nightclub. Barely-clad strippers wearing bunny masks twirled seductively around chrome poles, while men stared openly, eyes glued to every sway of their bodies. The dance floor was alive with energy. Girls in skimpy dresses and adrenaline-fueled guys moved wildly to the beat.

Ariel followed closely behind Joan, who strutted confidently toward a reserved VIP table.

“I don’t really fancy crowds,” Joan said as they walked, “but I do love clubbing.”

Ariel smiled quietly. They sat side by side, sipping on cocktails while nodding along to the music.

Across the room, Jaques was preparing to leave when his eyes landed on her.

He froze. He couldn’t look away.

Her beauty drew him in like a magnetic wave, almost supernatural in its pull. She was irresistible.

Every time she smiled, it did something to him—softened his chest, stirred something deep. He knew then; he wanted to make her his.

He almost stood up when he saw a young man approaching her table. But it would be awkward. She didn’t even know he existed.

“Sir, you have a phone call,” his secretary said.

Jaques didn’t care who it was. He waved the man off dismissively. The secretary bowed in response and ended the call.

A young man strolled over to the two women, his aura confident and smooth.

“Wonderful evening, ladies. My name is Kyle, and I’m the CEO of "Blue Rail,” he introduced, flashing a perfect smile.

“I’m Celine, and I’m Joan,” they both replied politely.

“Nice to meet you both. Here’s my business card,” he said, extending it toward Ariel. She accepted it, though reluctantly.

“You both are dazzling,” he added with a flirtatious smile.

“Thanks,” they said in unison.

Ariel studied him carefully. He looked exactly like he did on TV—sharp suit, polished charm.

“I have an offer for you, Miss Celine,” Kyle said. “I’ll be expecting your call. Maybe we can discuss it over coffe. This isn’t the ideal place.”

“Sure,” Ariel replied, still puzzled by the interaction.

With a nod and a final smile, Kyle turned and disappeared into the crowd.

The moment he was out of sight, Joan nudged Ariel and giggled.

“Oh my God! We’ve already found you a man! Don’t let this chance slip through your fingers. Girl, I know you’re married, but the fact that it’s fake is all I needed to hear. Logically speaking, you’re very much single.”

Ariel chuckled lightly but replied softly, “Yeah… but I think I have something more intense bothering me right now.”

Bianca and Damien’s downfall consumed her thoughts. It was the only thing that gave her purpose these days.

She appreciated Joan’s friendship, it offered temporary relief. But after everything Bianca had done to her, she couldn’t help but be cautious.

Ariel glanced at Joan again. From her sluggish movements and slurred words, it was obvious—she was drunk.

“My lipstick is smudged,” Joan whined, rubbing at her mouth. Then she gagged slightly and clutched her throat. The alcohol she had been drinking had clearly hit its peak.

“I need to use the restroom. I’ll be back,” she muttered, grabbing her purse and wobbling toward the bathroom.

Ariel remained behind, sipping her drink with poise as she waited.

“Hi.”

The deep voice beside her made her look up.

A tall, well-built man stood beside her, his frame imposing.

“My name is Lance. Do you mind if I join you?”

“I’m here with a friend,” she replied coolly, not even attempting a smile. He seemed like one of those types—prowling clubs in search of vulnerable girls.

“I know. I saw her leave.”

“If you’re hitting on me, I’m married.”

“Your fingers are empty.”

Ariel raised her left hand and looked down. He was right, she wasn’t wearing her ring.

“I can keep you company until your friend comes back,” he offered smoothly. “I’m great at keeping people entertained.”

Reluctantly, Ariel nodded, and Lance sat down. But instead of keeping a respectful distance, he shifted closer and casually draped his arm across the back of the couch. Ariel noticed, but chose not to react.

Then came the bombshell.

“Can I take you home tonight?” he asked, voice low. “I know you’re probably not a call girl, but for some reason... I want to have you.

Ariel’s eyes widened in disgust.

Without a word, she grabbed Joan’s half-finished wine glass and threw the contents all over him.

“How dare you?” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. She was appalled by his audacity.

The man stood, soaked and speechless, before turning and walking away in shame.

Just then, her phone chimed. It was a text from Joan:

“I’m sorry, Ariel, but I won’t be coming back. Go home without me, babes. See you at work tomorrow. Love you.”

Ariel let out a disappointed grunt and grabbed her bag from the couch.

But as she turned to leave, her eyes locked with a fierce, familiar gaze.

Axel.

His slightly unbuttoned shirt clung to his frame, leaving a little to guess. She could recognize his chilly commanding presence.

She froze.

What was he doing here?

Without a word, he turned and disappeared through the club’s exit.

Her heart racing, Ariel jumped to her feet and hurried after him.

“Axel!” she called, chasing his retreating figure into the night.

Now outside, she wasn’t even sure why she was following him. Maybe she just wanted him to see her—see how much she’d changed. How ravishing she looked tonight.

He came to a sudden stop and turned around.

His eyes traveled over her slowly.

She looked like a newly released temptation from hell.

That dress… it was doing things to him he couldn’t explain. Her sultry eyes and those gorgeous lips seemed to be calling him desperately. Everything about her whispered in a seductive harmony.

With every bit of restraint, he snapped out of the spell she seemed to have cast on him

“You whore now too?” he snapped.

“What?!” she gasped.

“How did it feel getting attention from all those men? Probably great.

“You’ve crossed the line, Axel,” her voice cracked. “You have no right to call me a whore.”

Axel said nothing. He’d seen what he came to see. He’d met his rival.

Although the infuriating sight of Ariel with a man on a couch was unexpected, he could never bypass a chance to get on her nerves.

“I say things the way they are,” he replied coldly, then turned and walked away.

Ariel stood frozen, then broke into tears.

She could not wrap her head around why he hated her so much. None of it made sense.

It was like everyday with Axel came with its own troubles, including the following day.