Laughter mingled with the pulsing beats as glasses clinked and conversations blurred into a haze of warmth and tipsy smiles.
Darren and Aria moved through the crowd, their presence magnetic as they enjoyed the night with the heiresses and their friends. The cocktails flowed, the music swelled, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift.
Aria's laughter sparkled, her eyes bright despite the flush of alcohol. Darren caught her glance and gave a small nod — she was enjoying this, but he knew her mind was sharp, just like his.
Though the room swayed and voices softened with each drink, Darren's mind was anything but relaxed. Beneath the fun and revelry, he was calculating — the system reminding him with every spend that his returns would multiply.
More spending means more power. More power means control.
He excused himself, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease until he found a quieter corner by the entrance.
"Where's the owner of this place?" Darren asked a club staffer, voice low but commanding.
A young man nodded toward a private office upstairs. "Second floor, through the VIP lounge. But he doesn't usually meet guests."
Darren's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Then I guess I'll have to make him want to meet me."
The night was far from over. The game was heating up.