Chapter 6
Andy read the message aloud with exaggerated drama, “Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been used to spend 800 dollars at Shining Nail Salon.”
The room fell into an awkward silence, broken only by the clink of a whiskey glass being set down. Everyone exchanged glances, puzzled.
“What the hell?” Someone muttered, frowning,
Arthur, seated at the head of the opulent VIP booth draped in black velvet, scrolled through his phone, his brows twitching with irritation. His sharp jaw clenched tighter with every swipe upward.
Regal Hair Salon – $500.
Chanel – swipe.
Louis Vuitton – swipe.
Tiffany & Co – swipe.
Transaction after transaction, notifications cluttered the screen like confetti, each one
colder and more indifferent than the last.
No text. No call. No “I miss you.” No groveling for a second chance.
Just receipts.
A stack of emotionless, automated confirmations.
The laughter that followed was tinged with disbelief.
“Damn, she’s going all out.”
Andy leaned back lazily, sipping his Scotch whisky, making it seem like none of this had
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Chapter 6
anything to do with him, ” Bro, is Cara going insane? She’s seriously going to nail salons and salons and buying high fashion now? She’s got to be trying to copy Lucy, right?”
A few chuckled, the tone edging into cruelty.
“Lucy was the cheer captain in school, man. Firecracker body, perfect face, total alpha magnet,” another chimed in. “Cara? Please. She’s just a nobody from the countryside. A mutt. She’s trying to play dress–up with queens.”
Andy scoffed. “A swan is a swan, and an ugly duckling stays ugly. No matter how many designer labels she wears.”
“She’s trying, though. Gotta give her that.”
“She’s pathetic,” someone sneered.
Laughter rippled through the plush VIP suite, drowned partially by the low thrum of music from the bar’s stage.
Just then, the atmosphere shifted. A ripple of excitement surged through the crowd. Heads
turned. Voices hushed in astonishment.
Someone near the bar gasped, “Look! Look over there. Goddess alert!”
All eyes snapped toward the entrance of the lounge area.
Cara’s POV:
After hours spent wandering glossy boutique floors, arms draped in luxury shopping bags and heart pounding with an intoxicating mix of defiance and adrenaline, Cathy had pulled me into the Moonlight Temptation Forest Bar.
“Tonight’s the night, babe,” she grinned wickedly as she shoved open the gilded doors. “You’re single, stunning, and rich. We’re throwing you the party your ex could only dream
of attending.”
I should’ve known we’d run into Arthur.
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Fate has a twisted sense of humor.
Even over the bass–heavy music, I heard them. Arthur’s voice, Andy’s–laced with mockery and familiarity. Their jeers and judgmental chuckles were sharp against the hum of the lounge.
I didn’t even need to look. I knew who they were. I could feel them sizing me up, stripping me down with old labels: “ugly duckling,” “wild mutt,” “countryside stray.”
The tags they’d stapled to me since day one.
Three years in that circle, and not once had they let me forget I didn’t belong.
Cathy was already seeing red. “I’m going to smash those smug little faces in.”
I stopped her with a quiet, “Don’t.”
She turned to me, eyes blazing. “You can’t just let them-”
“We’re divorced,” I said simply. “I don’t owe them anger anymore. Let them talk. Talking is all they’ve ever done.”
My voice was calm, but my fingers trembled slightly as I gripped the clutch in my hand.
Cathy paused, then exhaled, her fury cooling like steam in the air. “Fine. But let them look.”
And look they did.
The buzz spread like wildfire through the club.
“Who is she?”
“She looks like she walked straight out of a dream.”
“Damn… goddess energy.”
The attention was magnetic. Cathy’s grin returned with double the force. She clapped me on the shoulder. “Come on. We’re taking the best booth. Time to announce the rebirth of Cara,
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Chapter
queen of the damned.”
She marched over to the opposite side of the lounge and flagged down a staff member with a dramatic wave. “Bring over all the male dancers. All of them.”
The man gawked. “All… eight?”
Cathy raised a brow. “Did I stutter?”
Arthur’s POV:
Back at our booth, the guys were still chuckling at Cara’s expenses like it was some kind of stand–up routine.
“She’s really trying to be someone else. It’s almost sad.”
“More like hilarious,” someone snorted.
I wasn’t laughing. My drink remained untouched, my eyes narrowing with each new insult tossed her way like breadcrumbs.
“Shut up.”
The words dropped from my mouth like lead.
The room quieted instantly. Even the air tensed.
They felt it–that raw, invisible force of Alpha dominance. My displeasure wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.
Their amusement withered, expressions shifting uneasily.
Andy glanced over, hesitant. Bro… you good?”
I flicked my gaze his way, sharp and warning.
He said nothing more.
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Then, like a tide turning, the noise in the bar swelled.
“Who is that?”
“Oh my God, she’s unreal…”
Even I turned, just to see what the fuss was about.
Across the bar, under a gold chandelier, stood a woman draped in confidence. Her delicate features seemed sculpted in moonlight–skin porcelain pale, lips tinted the faintest rose, and long dark hair cascading like silk over her shoulders.
Her outfit a hot pink sweetheart neckline top paired with a glittering silver sequin
skirt caught the light and spun it around the room. Her legs, long and sun–kissed, gleamed under the lights, toned from years of effort I hadn’t noticed until now.
Every man in the room was looking at her.
Andy elbowed me, starry–eyed. “Arthur! You seeing this? What a bombshell!”
Another chimed in. “Bet she’s not your type, right? Not like Lucy.”
“Yeah, you like them spicy, not icy.”
“I don’t know, though. Look at those legs–she could give Lucy a run for her money.”
Those legs… I stared for a few seconds longer than I meant to.
Why did she look so familiar?
And then-
A group of male dancers filed in, each one looking like they’d stepped off a runway and into a gym ad. One by one, they stood in formation before the woman, heads slightly bowed. awaiting instruction.
Andy nearly choked on his drink. “One, two, three, four–eight?! She called eight strippers?!”
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Chapter 6
Whistles. Laughter.
“She didn’t need to pay, we would’ve volunteered!” Someone howled.
More laughter echoed.
Ding.
Another notification.
I glanced at my phone instinctively, expecting another nail salon or shopping mall.
Instead:
【Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been charged $888,888 at Moonlight Temptation Forest Bar for eight male strippers.]
The numbers burned into my eyes. I stared, then re–read it.
Eight male strippers.
$888,888.
My gaze snapped back across the lounge, back to the woman surrounded by glistening abs and flashing stage lights.
It was her.
Cara.
But this Cara wasn’t the clingy, soft–spoken shadow from our three–year marriage.
This woman was radiant. Poised. Untouchable.
A goddess standing tall while the pack she once cowered before now watched her in stunned silence.
I couldn’t look away.
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And somehow, for the first time in a long while-
She wasn’t the one out of place.
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