Chapter 01 : The Bastard

“Bastard!”

Elara slammed her wine glass onto the counter before grabbing it again.

“What does he think he is? Calling me a nerd? Hah! He and his entire family are the real nerds!”

She took another large gulp of the deep ruby-red wine. It was a strong imported red wine with a rich fruity taste, but the alcohol burned all the way down her throat.

The bartender sighed quietly.

“Miss… that’s already your fifth glass.”

It wasn’t ordinary wine. Even people with a high alcohol tolerance wouldn’t dare drink so much of it in one sitting.

Yet the young woman in front of him only waved her hand dismissively.

“One more.”

For almost two hours, she had occupied the same stool, drinking glass after glass while cursing the ex-boyfriend who had broken her heart.

At first, the bartender had thought she was just another drunk customer.

Now he understood. She had been cheated on, and he couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. His gaze landed on her face again.

She was beautiful.

Her long ginger hair fell softly over her shoulders, shining warmly under the golden lights of the bar. Her fair skin looked almost porcelain-like, and behind the oversized black-framed glasses were a pair of breathtaking eyes; they were clear, bright, and innocent.

The glasses covered nearly half of her small face, making her look like a quiet college student rather than someone sitting alone in a bar, drowning herself in alcohol.

She was the kind of girl people would want to protect.

Whoever had cheated on her must have been absolutely blind.

Elara suddenly lifted her head, her gaze snapping to him. "Hey..."

The bartender blinked, startled out of his thoughts. "Yes, Miss?"

"What's your name?"

He offered a polite smile. "Daniel."

She stared at him, her vision slightly blurry, before asking with deadly seriousness, "Daniel... do you think I'm a nerd?"

Daniel found himself speechless for a moment. Honestly? She did look like the quiet type. Cute, shy, a little bookish. But calling her ugly or boring? Not even close. If anything, her beauty was completely natural, unmarred by the heavy makeup worn by the other women in the lounge.

He smiled gently and shook his head. "No. You're very beautiful. You don't look like a nerd at all." He glanced around the crowded, upscale bar before leaning in slightly. "In fact... you could charm almost any man in this place."

"Really?"

Her eyes immediately sparkled with a dangerous mix of alcohol and wounded pride.

Slowly, she turned her head, her hazy gaze sweeping across the room. She deliberately ignored the noisy groups, the loud businessmen, and the flashy singles mingling by the lounge chairs. 

Finally, her eyes came to a hard stop on a man sitting completely alone in the darkest corner of the room.

He was quietly sipping his drink, his face calm, sharp, and utterly unreadable. Even from a distance, he carried an overwhelming, suffocating presence…an aura of power and cold detachment that made people hesitate to even look his way, let alone approach him.

Elara pointed a slightly unsteady finger at him. "What about him?"

Daniel looked over, his eyes widening slightly. The man had been sitting there alone all night. 

He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light. "Sure. He seems to be alone too. Why don't you go keep him company?"

A bright, triumphant smile instantly bloomed across Elara's face. 

"Thank you!" She pointed at Daniel happily. "You're a really good person. Not all men are jerks after all."

With an ambitious nod, she carefully climbed off the high bar stool.

The moment her five-inch stilettos touched the hardwood floor, gravity reminded her of the five glasses of wine. She stumbled, nearly losing her balance entirely before catching the edge of the counter.

"Stupid heels..." she muttered, frowning down at her feet as she tried to force her legs to walk a straight line. "My feet hurt so much... And this dress..."

She pulled awkwardly at the hem of the tight black dress that hugged every curve of her figure.

"I would've never worn this if it weren't for that jerk." She gritted her teeth, the alcohol fueling a sudden wave of righteous anger. 

"How dare he call me boring? I'm just busy with work! So what if I don't spend hours dressing up every day? So what if I like reading books? Does that make me boring?"

She snorted angrily, tossing her ginger hair over her shoulder.

"I'll show that bastard exactly what he lost. I'll make him regret cheating on me."

With that final declaration, Elara lifted her chin proudly, steadied herself on her painful heels, and marched toward the handsome, dangerous stranger sitting alone in the corner.

Every single step Elara took felt entirely unsteady.

The plush carpet beneath her five-inch stilettos seemed to roll like ocean waves, and the entire lounge swayed precariously from left to right. Stubbornly, she locked her hazy gaze onto her target: the exceptionally handsome man sitting alone in the far corner.

He didn’t even look up as she approached.

Up close, his presence was even more intimidating than it had been from across the room. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal-grey suit that practically screamed old money, elegance, and absolute authority. 

He looked entirely detached from the noisy, chaotic atmosphere of the crowded bar, existing in a world of his own. His sharp jawline looked as though it had been meticulously carved from marble by a master sculptor.

In his right hand, he held a heavy crystal tumbler filled with a rich amber liquor. He lazily swirled the glass, making the ice cubes clink softly against the sides.

Elara cleared her throat, attempting to sound confident. Or, at least, she tried to. Instead, a tiny, unprompted hiccup escaped her lips.

“Hey…”

The world tilted violently, forcing her to lean both hands heavily against the edge of his mahogany table to stop herself from face-planting onto the floor.

Only then did the man slowly raise his head.

A pair of piercing, ice-grey eyes landed squarely on her. They calmly, methodically swept over her…taking in the oversized black-framed glasses, her intensely flushed cheeks, her messy, tangled ginger hair, and the tight black dress she kept awkwardly trying to tug downward.

There wasn’t a single shred of surprise in his expression. Only a quiet, cool curiosity.

“Can I help you?” he asked. His voice was a deep, calm baritone that vibrated right through her chest.

“Yes.” Elara nodded so emphatically that her glasses slipped straight down the bridge of her nose. She hurriedly and clumsily pushed them back up with a single finger. “You can help me prove a point.”