WebNovels

Chapter 5 - It Smells Like Chasing Craving

My mantra each time I walk into one of the clubs I own—or am about to own—is that lust is easy to manufacture. The temperature, the lighting, the music, and even the scent are all carefully curated to set the mood. Lust isn't real here, it's all artificial. Orchestrated of course by none other than myself and exactly how I like it.

The club where I met Eleanor wasn't mine. Not yet. But I was walking back into it anyway—this time, it wasn't to scout or flirt, but to sign paperwork.

You're probably wondering how I afforded a luxury apartment. I wasn't just some guy in a suit wandering into bars, hoping not to bite anyone. I was a discreet businessman. I invested in venues that specialized in chaotic energy—exclusive nightlife spots, elite escort networks, rooftop lounges where reality blurred after midnight. And it wasn't just a front, but a system I've perfected for myself over the years. All of it was a simulation of indulgence designed to keep me from slipping.

The velvet rope slipped aside as soon as the manager saw me. I didn't need an introduction, he already knew why I was there. Upstairs, in the VIP office that doubled as a liquor storage room with a couch, the current owner waited. Next to a bottle of whisky, he had a sleek folder of contracts.

"You're serious about buying this place?" he asked as I walked in.

"I don't make offers unless I intend to follow through," I replied, settling into the leather armchair opposite him.

"Didn't peg you as a businessman when you first came in here," he said, tossing a set of keys onto the counter.

"No?"

"Thought you were bluffing when you offered the deal." He said that with an unapologetic smug look. "Didn't expect you to rip apart my financials within the hour."

I shrugged. "It wasn't hard. I saw right through your bartender who was pocketing cover fees. Collecting it at the door was a quick remedy."

He let out a short laugh. "That's what I mean. You've got the eye."

I just watched him as he steepled his fingers. I had nothing to respond with.

"That idea you pitched for the trial night? Brought in triple our usual numbers. Completely wrecked the competition. That night, except for us, every.bar.on.the.strip was a graveyard."

"That's the point of a simulation," I said. "To make sure no one else is playing a more convincing game."

He nodded slowly, assessing me with a new kind of respect. "You're perfect for this business. You seem to have a feel of what people want. You know how to keep them coming back without ever showing your hand."

I met his gaze. "That's because I've built my entire life around feeding cravings… without ever satisfying them."

He blinked, maybe unsure if I was being metaphorical. I didn't clarify.

The club owner was flipping through the agreement again when I asked, "Do a lot of uni students come through here?"

He paused, looked up. "Uni students?"

I nodded like it was just a passing thought. "Yeah. I think I recognized someone last week—thought I'd ask."

He leaned back. "Sometimes, yeah. Depends on the night. Why?"

"My brother's a professor," I lied smoothly. "At Golden Cross."

That part wasn't a lie. Dom was technically on staff, though I doubted anyone knew what he was really there for. His lectures on ancient mythology tended to leave students wide-eyed and unnerved. Still, the university let him stay. They always did.

I kept my tone casual. "I was thinking of running a few promotions, like student nights, maybe? I wondered if it was worth marketing in that direction."

The owner nodded slowly, clearly buying it. "Could be. You get the right music, cheap drinks, some girls who know how to look good in a crowd and it could work. Words spread fast here."

I looked away, toward the main floor. "Girls who know to look good in a crowd, huh?"

"Someone in particular you were hoping to spot again?" he asked, tone teasing now.

I gave a thin smile. "Not really. Just curious."

He leaned forward slightly, studying my expression. "You've got that look, though."

"What look?"

"The kind that men have when they've just been told no… and didn't like it."

I chuckled once. "I don't mind being told no."

"Sure," he said, unconvinced. "But you strike me as the type who only hears it once before finding a way to make someone say yes."

I didn't answer right away. My eyes followed the sway of bodies through the tinted window overlooking the dance floor. "What makes you think she said no?"

"She?" he said, raising a brow. "You never mentioned a she."

I tilted my head, amused. "Maybe I didn't."

The owner laughed, low and knowing. "Alright, mystery man. Whoever she is, must be worth circling back for."

I didn't deny it. Mostly because I wasn't sure either. Was it worth it? Was she worth it? Or was it the reaction I had to her that was worth it? Whatever it was, I was already in too deep.

He didn't push it. He was used to people lying for more delicate reasons than mine.

University, though? I had no reason to be anywhere near one. I'd finished my degrees decades ago—more than twice over. I had businesses, contracts, an entire empire built around avoiding a certain kind of temptation. The plan was to rinse and repeat. And now? Now I was seriously considering finding whatever possible excuse I could find to be in a tertiary institution just to find the one girl who didn't flinch when I looked at her.

She hadn't looked at me like the others had. And that had rattled me, seriously.

There was no fear, no fascination. Like I said, indifference was all there was to it. As if she'd already decided I wasn't worth the trouble.

That quiet dismissal stayed with me more than any harsh words or mocking look could. Maybe that's why I kept circling the place where she'd last been.

More Chapters