The entire club held its breath.
Not because they were obliged to.
But because Luna had this effect.
Dress sculpted to the body as if it had been woven by stars.
Thin sandals that clinked subtly on the marble.
Perfume that danced in the air before she spoke a word.
And eyes that held a quiet glow—as if they knew something the rest of the world would never discover.
She crossed the room with lazy steps.
Upon reaching the table, the three women stopped what they were doing.
Not a word.
Just looks.
Victoria sat up straighter in her chair. She gave a smile that was 80 percent charm and 20 percent trying not to look hypnotized. "Wow… If I'd known you were coming like this, I would have hired an emergency stylist."
Nikoly just looked up, scanning Luna from top to bottom with mathematical precision. "Impressive. No visible signature. No logo. But that cut... that fit..."
She bowed slightly. "Custom-made by someone who understands the female soul. Or by magic."
Lumine smiled calmly, but with a clear sparkle in her eyes.
She was already used to dealing with princesses, actresses, aristocrats…
More Luna?
Luna was outra categoria.
"You arrived, and suddenly my dress looks ordinary. And it cost 40 thousand euros."
Luna stopped in front of the table, bowed slightly, and greeted each one with a delicate kiss on the cheek.
"Sorry for the delay. I had to negotiate with the mirror before leaving."
The three of them laughed lightly, delighted.
She sat down in the only empty chair. And as she settled in, crossing her legs elegantly and resting her chin on her hand, she said, "So... what's the deities' plan tonight?"
Victoria swirled her glass energetically. "Dance? Toast? Steal the spotlight and maybe some security cameras?"
Nikoly whispered. "Maybe hunting for… information. Some foreign investors are present. Some with shady pasts."
Lumine added, "And there are rumors that a crown prince is disguised here today. Watching. Choosing who to ally with in the future."
Luna arched an eyebrow. "And do you think he'll still be able to look at anyone else after I walk in?"
The three of them laughed.
"I think you can cause a small diplomatic incident with just a smile," Victoria said.
"Or start a war for attention," Nikoly teased.
"Or end a dynasty with a wink," Lumine added.
The waiter arrived, bowing respectfully. "Would you like something, miss…?"
Luna took the letter and looked at it, then handed it back without reading it.
"Surprise me. But bring something that suits a woman who has a Bugatti in the garage and a bad habit of dominating salons."
The waiter swallowed hard. "O-of course, miss."
Moments later, the glasses met with a light clink.
The foam on the imperial stout glistened under the amber light of the private club, and the conversation between the four women flowed as if they were on top of the world—because, frankly, they were.
Luna leaned back in her chair, watching.
Victoria, already on her third glass, dropped the previous topic and looked at her friends with shining eyes. "Girls... did you hear about the Mass family heir scandal?"
Nikoly raised an eyebrow in interest. "Vincent Mass? The golden boy of Asian hotels?"
Lumine, who seemed to already know, just gave a small smile and took an elegant sip.
Victoria leaned over the table, whispering. "They caught him red-handed with two prostitutes... in one of the presidential rooms in his own network. And the detail? It was his fiancée who answered the door."
"Oh… no," Nikoly said, his eyes widening in that amused, cynical tone. "With cameras and all?"
"With everything. The girl had tracked his card. She recorded EVERYTHING. She's threatening to leak it if his family tries to silence her or make a financial settlement."
Lumine shook her head, still with that noble air that seemed like she'd seen this kind of thing a hundred times. "The Mass have always had this rottenness camouflaged by public donations and magazine covers."
Victória added, "The girl... poor thing. She was on a social media campaign with him. The engagement photos were so perfect that I almost believed they were in love."
Nikoly crossed his arms, impassive. "Men like that don't cheat out of desire. They cheat out of arrogance. They think they'll never pay the price."
Luna, until then silent, raised the glass to her lips. The cold liquid was refreshing, but the bitterness that rose wasn't from the drink itself.
She kept her face impassive.
But inside… "Tsk. Scoundrels. Always the same. Expensive suits, perfect teeth, polished speeches... and the fidelity of a holey sock. Even when they're with the woman of their dreams, they do shit just to inflate their own golden amoeba ego."
She took a deep breath, still listening to the conversation.
Victória had already commented on rumors that the Mass family was trying to buy the press's loyalty and hide the case under a new billion-dollar project in Dubai.
Nikoly suggested that the bride publish everything, just to see "the Mass melt in the hot sun of social media."
Lumine, in her calm tone, simply commented, "She doesn't need to expose anything. Just let everyone know she knows. The fear of scandal will be the perfect leash."
Luna, inwardly, smiled.
These women...
So rich, so influential…
But at that moment, she felt at home.
As if, despite the difficult past, he was among equals.
Not because of their bank accounts, but because of the way they read the world—and didn't let it consume them.
The lights at the club's side entrance dimmed for a moment.
Luna blinked. She looked around discreetly.
And then, the side door opened.
A tall, blond man in a tailored suit and a practiced smile entered with two discreet security guards.
He looked around, as if searching for something.
Or someone.
Luna calmly spun the glass and thought: "Look… the scoundrel has arrived."
She rested her elbows on the table, fingers interlaced, staring with studied boredom into space, until, with an almost imperceptible movement, she raised a finger and attracted the attention of the other three.
Victoria, Nikoly and Lumine followed her with their eyes.
And there they saw.
Vincent Mass.
Heir to the Mass International hotel empire.
Tailor-made suit.
Textbook smile.
Luna raised an eyebrow, smirking, and whispered, "The golden peacock has arrived."
Victoria held the glass close to her lips, but her eyes laughed for her.
Nikoly rolled his eyes with the subtlety of a sharp blade.
Lumine crossed her legs gracefully and muttered, "Hypocrite number 143 in 2025. Updated with recent scandal."
Vincent spotted the quartet.
Stopped.
A microsecond of hesitation in the eyes.
Then he assumed the pose.
He walked towards the table.
When he arrived, he gave that crooked smile and bowed slightly. "Good evening, ladies. The beauty gathered at this table is violating at least three international laws. I hope they're not up to something dangerous…"
Victoria replied before the others could speak. "We're just plotting global domination. One cup at a time."
Nikoly is naked.
Lumine didn't answer, just smiled elegantly—which, in that circle, meant "I don't have to pretend to like you."
Luna, for her part, remained silent.
He just watched him like someone evaluating a counterfeit item in an expensive display case.
Vincent, of course, tried to maintain his charm. "Miss Lancaster, it's been a while since I've seen you at a social event. Should I consider this a gift?"
Victoria responded in the same soapy tone. "Or a warning."
Luna bit lightly on the straw of her glass, holding back her laughter.
Nikoly whispered to Lumine. "He thinks he's charming."
Lumine replied without moving her lips. "It's cute, in a pathetic way."
Vincent then tried the classic move: He moved a little closer to Victoria, leaning in as if telling a secret.
"If I may... there's a private room in the back. I'd like to speak with you, in private. Just a few minutes. Matters of mutual interest."
The entire table froze for half a second.
But instead of tension, there was a spark of pure fun.
Luna tilted her face toward Victória, whispering conspiratorially. "Go with him, friend. Take the opportunity to ask if the suite still has sheets with other people's DNA on them."
Victoria almost choked on her drink, laughing.
Nikoly raised his glass as if making a toast. "At least he's consistent. Always trying to save something."
Lumine added calmly. "Maybe he thinks the word 'private' cures public scandals."
Vincent, without completely losing his smile, tried to appear relaxed. But the tension in his jaw was visible. "I see your sense of humor is still sharp."
Luna finally spoke. "Oh, dear. With your reputation, humor is the least we need to survive."
The three friends laughed.
Vincent raised his hands in surrender. "I get the message. But my proposal is sincere."
Victoria leaned back in her chair with a serene smile. "Sincerity... it's a dangerous word, Vincent. You should use it less. You'll end up contradicting the hotel's image."
He didn't answer.
He just smiled, now with a hint of hidden irritation, and gave one last wave. "Have a good night, ladies."
And he left.
As soon as he was out of sight, the table erupted in laughter.
Luna took a deep breath, fanning herself with the cloth napkin. "My God, he really thought he was going to hook one of you with that salon-pamphlet smooth talk."
Nikoly blinked. "He must have been wearing the same perfume since boarding school."
Lumine simply concluded, "It lacks class. And awareness."
Victoria raised her glass and said, in a toast, "To the scoundrels who try. And to the women who have already deciphered them before the first syllable."
They all toasted.