"Celeste!?" I couldn't believe my eyes. The woman who had been mourning earlier that morning had transformed into someone completely different.
She was now wearing a white mini dress with red heels. Her diamond earrings sparkled, and her red lips curled into a smile.
Celeste noticed how embarrassed I looked, so she reached into her Dior bag and pulled out a golden membership card, waving it confidently at the security guard.
"This lady is my friend," she said.
The muscular guard immediately put on a fawning expression and flashed a wide grin at both of us as we were allowed to enter the bar.
We walked through an underground, neon-blue passageway that led to the bar's lounge, where masked waiters moved from table to table, serving drinks and food.
They were all topless, wearing nothing but briefs.
The pole dancers performed provocative routines, nearly naked, as loud, passionate music vibrated through the air.
Men and women cheered wildly, as if competing to see who could be the loudest screaming out with a feverish energy that matched the name of the bar: Gritando de Pasión.
My eyes began to scan the dark hall. Where is Damian? I wondered.
Celeste took me by the hand and led us to a booth, where a masked man approached us and politely asked what we would like to drink.
Celeste nudged me and asked, "What would you like to drink, friend?"
"It's up to you," I replied casually, still scanning the place for Damian.
Celeste leaned in and whispered, "Why don't you take off your glasses?"
I'm fine with it…" After my search failed, I shifted my attention to Celeste.
"Seriously, no one would believe you just lost your husband," I said, amused.
Apparently, losing her husband wasn't as painful as outsiders thought. On the surface, Celeste looked happy otherwise, she wouldn't have come to a bar right after the funeral.
"Rhea, have a drink with me," Celeste said as she raised the glass on the table in front of us. And before I could even pick mine up, Celeste was already pouring the second one.
I held her glass, and knowing how women think, I knew Celeste would say something. And without wasting time, Celeste leaned in and began to whisper.
"Rhea… I'm finally free," she said. Lifting the corner of her dress strap, she revealed a scar on her lower abdomen.
Celeste pointed at the scar and said, "This is what Ethan did to me. Do you know why I always put on too much makeup? It's because I cover bruises on my face."
"Ethan was a monster. He didn't just drink and assault me ,he broke our marriage… He cheated on me with our maid, in our own bedroom."
I squeezed her glass. Damian had cheated on her, and Ethan had abused Celeste. It made her hate every man who cheated on their wives. It was a far cry from their usual polite image.
"Men are hypocrites and good pretenders!" I shouted.
Celeste wiped her tears with her fingers.
"I don't care who killed him, but I'm grateful to the murderer. Now I'm free to spend his money."
She held the card with her fingers. "This membership card used to belong to Ethan. Now it's mine."
Celeste leaned toward Rhea's ear and whispered, "Guess what I did after the funeral?"
She giggled wickedly. "I peed on Ethan's tombstone and spat on it."
She looked up and laughed, her chest shaking like jelly. There was a wild look of revenge on her face.
I bowed her head in silence. I remembered that in my past life, Celeste had once come to me for advice about a divorce.
Celeste had been hoping Damian could convince Ethan to agree, but Damian had rejected her and said she had no right to file for divorce. "Their relationship should last till death," he had said.
When i told Celeste what Damian had said, Celeste turned away and never came to see me again.
But now Ethan was dead, and Celeste was free.
Does it mean my life will change too? I whispered to herself.
"Rhea, now I understand," Celeste said with a smirk. "Nowadays, if you want a diamond buy it. If you want a man…" She paused deliberately, glancing at the waiter who was approaching with drinks. "If you want a man, f*** him."
Then she smiled and boldly reached out, pulling down the man's briefs.
The masked man wasn't angry. In fact, he calmly sat beside her, and they kissed without any scruples like they were already in love. At their level of passion, the couch soon became their rolling bed.
Not wanting to disturb them, I quietly shifted from the booth and gave them space.
I looked around until her eyes landed on Damian, tucked in the corner of another booth. In his arms was a woman with blond curls. I couldn't quite see her face, but I knew who she was. It was Ariella.
I'd never forget those curls ,always bouncing arrogantly whenever Ariella flipped her hair.
"Damn it… I'm going to rush to them and expose them," I muttered under my breath.
Just as she made a move toward them, a shadow blocked her path.
I felt dizzy all of a sudden and dropped my glasses. When i bent down to pick them up, a strong hand grabbed her wrist.
A man was standing before her, gazing into her eyes with oceanic blue-grey intensity.
"Oh my God… he looks drunk, but I can't deny he's fucking handsome," I whispered to herself.
In fact, he was stunning. He had a sharp jawline, defined cheekbones, and broad shoulders. His dark hair was thick and neatly styled. His lips were perfectly shaped, and his skin glowed under the dim light of the lounge.
God, he's so devastatingly handsome.
His body exuded a fresh, seductive scent reminiscent of Bleu de Chanel,a subtle blend of citrus and woody notes that seemed to dance around him, drawing her in with every breath.
The aroma was both calming and intoxicating, a perfect balance of sophistication and sensuality that left a lasting impression.
"Chloe… is that you?" the man muttered to himself. "No… it can't be."
"Sorry, I don't know you," I said nervously.
I tried to back away, but his grip was strong his hands clamped around my wrist like tongs. His tall frame closed in on me until my back was pressed against the wall.
I pushed him, but he pressed his body against mine, and my heart pounded wildly.
"Please," the man whispered, "talk to me."
I responded, "Since you won't let me go, I have nothing to say."
He brushed the tip of his nose along the side of my face. The hot air from his breath poured directly into my ear, and I felt a sudden tingle.
"My dear," he murmured.
"Get away from me! I'm not your dear!" I roared. "Let me go!"
"I won't let you leave me. Never," the man said as he wrapped his iron arms around me. I couldn't resist his strength.
It was no use screaming for help in this chaotic bar. Screaming was considered normal at this point. I continued to struggle, but the man only laughed loud and triumphant.
God damnit, is there someone here who can help me with this lunatic? I thought in panic.
"Boss!" A man came rushing over. "You have an urgent call."
"F*** off!" I yelled and lifted my knee to strike the man hard in the groin. It felt like hitting a rock.
I heard him curse behind me.
"No, I'm going after them," I muttered, rushing outside. But Damian was gone ,nowhere in sight.
That same fresh, seductive scent hit mr again.
I didn't linger. I rushed to her car, flung the door open, and drove fast, like she was running for her life.
"My dear!"
"What the f***?" she cursed, stomping on the gas pedal.
I couldn't even count how many red lights I had blown past I just wanted to get home.
Suddenly, a shadow rushed out from the grass into the road.Screech! I slammed on the brakes. The steering wheel almost hit me.
"Shit… did I hit something?"