Chapter 4

"Yes, Mother. Besides, we need to start making preparation on the appointment with Mr. Worthington."

The feminine tone quickly ascended into a delight. "That's right, son," retorted a cheerful Mrs. Ashford. "Oh, goodness. Can't believe this is finally happening."

"Yes, mother."

"I'm sure Jaden and his sister can now rest with trying to make you look like the bad one in the picture. But you have to promise to limit the way you squander the company's funds. It's getting way too much I'm afraid I can't help you any longer with the board. And I want to believe you know the Worthington's tower would want accountability at the end of the day especially now that our partnership success is just by the corner. It's the only way to revive the company."

"Sure, mother."

"And as for that ungrateful bitch, she'd be hearing from me by sunrise," she vowed, " But I need a good night rest now. It's been quite a stressful day."

What?! The company's drowning? Amelia thought to herself. And why would Hector be stealing money meant for the company?

The sound of the door creaking open made Amelia took to her heels, racing down the stairs in no time.

Following a successful exit from the mansion, Amelia couldn't help but think about her life following Mrs. Ashford's return. It wasn't like she was new to her maltreatment and constant contempt but why does it seem like her asking for a divorce is some sort of crime that she needs to get punished for?

Nevertheless, Amelia shoved the thought aside, hastening her pace. For the only way for her to find out, is to make sure to return by 3.a.m before the devil and his mother finally wakes up!

~~

The loud Jazz music pulsed through the air, a sultry melody that seemed to match the rhythm of the flashing spotlights. The vibrant energy of the crowd was infectious. Couples swayed to the music, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they lost themselves in the night. The air was thick with laughter, clinking glasses, and the murmur of hushed conversations, creating an atmosphere that was equal parts intimate and exhilarating. Amidst the revelry, Amelia navigated the crowd with practiced ease before finally clocking in at the bar.

"Girl, what kept you so long?" Trisha, her colleague at the bar said. "Boss's been looking all over for you."

"Mr. Nelson?"

"Right. There's an important guest in the building and he wants no one but you to make the delivery to him."

"'Him?" Amelia queried with an incredulous neck jut. "Who is 'him'?"

"I have no idea but I strongly believe he's someone of great societal value. More like an elite, if you ask me."

Just as she resumed her duty at the bar, Amelia couldn't help but wonder why Mr. Nelson would want to make her take the drink over instead.

She understands that it's a clubhouse and there's need for a certain level of appeal to be able to thrive there but she's mentioned to him umpteen times that she was married and would rather prefer to be at the bar instead. She has been wooed at several times while at it and she just needed that focus to be able to gather enough money and be free from Hector's shackles. That's all.

"Thank goodness, you're here," Mr. Nelson's voice spoke out of nowhere. "I've been looking all over for you, Amelia—"

"Mr. Nelson..."

"I know. I know Amelia. But I promise after today's delivery at the private lounge, it's going to be the last. You're going to keep staying at the bar like our former agreement. But it's Mr. Worthington we're talking about. I need to give it my all. I don't want to ruin this for him or me. Your presence bring magic to the house and I just couldn't trust no one with this but you, Amelia."

Amelia sighed heavily before making her response known. Mr. Nelson has been nothing but kind to her after she went back to the clubhouse following the unfortunate incidence with Hector. She had gone to the clubhouse with the her palm wounds still fresh. Hector doesn't care if she caught an infection through it and had forsaken her to herself to cater for. Mr. Nelson had felt pity for her and had personally paid for her treatment, rejecting her plea that the money be removed from her work in advance.

"Just this once, Mr. Nelson. Please."

"Just this once, Amelia."

"Alright then," she straightened her shoulders. "What's the menu?"

"Champagne with plenty of ice. Cosmopolitan and everything exotic and expensive."

Amelia poured some cosmopolitan drink into a tall glass and together with the champagne bottle, she went to deliver the orders at a private lounge in the club.

It's been only her eighth day at the club and for someone with no prior experience with making cocktails or mixology, she was quick enough as always to be able to learn to perfection within just four days of starting.

Amelia was greeted with soft warm and dotted lights in the cozy lounge. Her gaze caught two men who seem to be so engrossed in their own conversations, sitting opposite each other.

Their dress of plain ash cashmere and pant trousers didn't speak much of anything wealth or riches but the strong perfume aroma emanating from them proved her otherwise. To Amelia, they were more like the quiet rich folks.

"Hello, sirs," she let out a smile that unintentionally revealed her perfect dimples, "here's your drink," she said as she placed the orders in the tray on the table between them. "Would you like anything, else or?"

"No, we're fine. Thank you," one of the men thanked her, but somehow, the other man's gaze caught a glimpse of her bandaged palm. His eyes unknowingly travelled to her face.

"You," he mumbled as his eyes shone in disbelief, unable to believe them.

Amelia paused to take a long look at the man and even though she was just meeting him for the first time, she couldn't deny that the man's face seemed sort of familiar, somehow.

Where did she remember him from?