Olivia sat in the back seat, tears swelling in her eyes as she fought to maintain her composure. The weight of her recent breakup pressed down on her, and her chauffeur, Gerard, glanced at her through the rear-view mirror as worry clouded his face.
"Are you okay, Miss Stone?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
Instead of answering, Olivia shifted the conversation as she tried to control her emotional turmoil. "Mr. Gerard, how many years have you been married?"
"Twenty years, Miss Stone," he replied.
"Wow! You must be a Goodman," she sighed, the sarcasm dripping from her words. "Do you reckon me a good person?"
"Yes, I believe so, Miss Stone," Gerard responded, but she snapped back at him.
"I don't want any of your modest or professional replies. I need a sincere and realistic answer. Am I a good person or not?"
He paused, contemplating his response. "Miss Stone, do you remember when you were nursing a cat two years ago, and it bit you? You told me, 'This is why I don't like cats.' I suggested you abandon it, and you said, 'I really wish I could, but I won't be able to sleep for a month knowing I abandoned a poor wounded cat.'"
Gerard sighed. "You are a straightforward person with a sharp tongue, you are slow witted sometimes, you have an attitude that exude confidence, yet you are selfless and kind. You were born into wealth but treat everyone with respect."
Olivia was taken aback. "Wow. I didn't think you'd remember all that." She breathed in and out, feeling a little lighter. "Thank you, Mr. Gerard."
After a brief pause, she declared, "Take me to Club Montana."
"I don't think that's a smart idea. It's getting late," he cautioned.
"I really don't care. Just take me there. If you're worried about my dad, I'll handle him."
"As you wish, Miss Stone," Gerard replied, making a sharp U-turn toward Club Montana.
As they arrived at the club, Olivia turns to Gerard with a determined glint in her eyes, "Mr Gerard, I will take it from here" she said, her voice firm and polite "I need some alone time, some girl time. I haven't been here in almost two years, Richard hated the idea of me going to a club" she paused and the unspoken words hanging in the air like a dare. Gerard looked at her as his eyes showed a flicker of concern and with a nod, he acquiesced to her request "Very well Miss Stone". Olivia stepped out of the car, her heels clicking on the pavement. She took a deep breath, the cool night air filling her lungs, and made her way to the entrance.
Olivia stepped into Club Montana, known for its exclusivity and opulence. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, and she made her way to the bar, taking a seat.
"I need a glass of vodka and watermelon punch, please," she ordered.
"Coming right up," the bartender replied casually.
As she waited, she scanned the room and caught sight of a tall, handsome man. "Holy shmolly! Who's that hottie!" she exclaimed to herself, quickly shaking her head. "Oh, hell no! We are so not doing that!"
The bartender interrupted her thoughts. "Your drink's ready."
Olivia took the drink, sipped through the straw, then pulled it out to down the rest in one go. "I need something stronger."
The bartender nodded, pouring her a shot. She downed that too. "I want more!" she declared.
After three shots and about to take the fourth shot, the bartender held her hand gently. "I know I need to make money, but are you trying to kill yourself?"
"Maybe I should?" she sighed, frustrated.
"This place is so stuffy," Olivia complained, quickly shrugging off her jacket, revealing her skin; he neck, cleavages, arm, back and curves. "Can you please look after my jacket?"
The bartender nodded, and Olivia hurried to the dance floor, moving and dancing with an intoxicating and sexy allure that drew the attention of many, including Tristan, who watched from a distance.
"Who's that?" one random guy asked.
"Damn, she's fire! I need to dance with her," the other guy replied, smirking. "Hopefully, she ends up in my bed."
"But you came here with your girlfriend," the first guy cautioned.
"Tell her something came up," the second guy shot back. "You bastard!" The first guy retorted with a devilish grin on his face. Tristan stood firmly as he observed as how the first guy tried to make his way to dancing Olivia.
As Olivia danced, she bumped into Matt, a coursemate.
"Matt?" she slurred, her words slightly jumbled.
"Liv?" Surprise etched on his face, "What are you doing here? Where's Richard?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
"He dumped me," she belched, her words tumbling out awkwardly. "Oh, I'm so sorry! He dumped me, Matt!"
Matt reached out to steady her. "Hey, slow down."
"Don't you dare touch me! All you men are the same!" she snapped, her emotions spilling over.
"You're drunk, Liv. You could get into trouble," Matt warned.
"I'm 19!" she retorted, belching again. "Why am I belching? This is probably why Richard dumped me! I'm so disgusting!" Tears flows out of her eyes like a water fall. "I hate my life."
"No, you don't mean that," Matt tried to reassure her.
Suddenly, a 6ft tall figure approached them, exuding confidence and an addictive scent. Tristan, with his chiseled features and partially unbuttoned shirt revealing his muscles, glared at Matt. "Who's she?"
"A friend," Matt replied, hesitantly.
"A friend? Didn't I warn you not to bring your friends here?" Tristan pressed, his tone both commanding and curious.
"I will do whatever I want! I am an adult, and you are not the boss of me!" Matt shot back defiantly.
Olivia, still swaying slightly from the alcohol, chimed in drunkenly, "Yes! You are the boss of yourself!"
Tristan's gaze shifted back to her. "And she's drunk!"
"I am not drunk!" Olivia protested, her voice rising in indignation. Then, with a mischievous smile, she leaned closer to Tristan. "Wait! Why do you smell like that? So sexy!"
Matt's irritation grew. "Where's your driver?" he asked, glancing around for Gerard, concerned for Olivia's well-being.
Olivia swayed slightly, her words slurring together as the effects of the alcohol coursed through her. "I don't know, why are you asking me? Oh! Right! My driver! He's outside."
Without a moment's hesitation, Tristan yanked her away from Matt's grasp. "Easy there, big guy," Olivia protested, still somewhat dazed by the sudden shift in her surroundings.
Matt's irritation flared. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Tristan's gaze was steely as he replied, "You!"
Matt retorted, "You could have hurt her!"
Tristan shrugged, his indifference evident. "And I am supposed to care?"
With a swift motion, Tristan signaled to two men in suits, each wearing a detective-style earpiece. They approached him without hesitation. "Take him home!" Tristan ordered.
Matt's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you insane? Who's going to take her home?"
"Definitely not you!" Tristian shot back.
"You can't do this!" Matt protested, his voice rising.
Tristian's tone was unwavering. "I can and I will. Take him home!"
The two men gently began to drag Matt away, who struggled to free himself. "Tris! I swear if something happens to her, I will kill you!"
Matt continued to fight against their hold as they pulled him away, shouting, "Let me go! Let me go!"
Ignoring the chaos, Tristan turned his attention to Olivia, who was standing idly completely oblivious of her environment. He lifted her effortlessly, cradling her as he stepped through the crowd.
"Where's your driver parked?" he asked, glancing down at her, but Olivia was too lost in her stupor to respond. Instead, she absentmindedly touched his biceps, her eyes wide with drunken admiration. "Rock hard! So hot!" she slurred, but Tristan remained focused, ignoring her comments as he carried her out of the club.
Outside, Gerard, her driver, spotted them and rushed over. He attempted to take Olivia from Tristan's arms, concern etched on his face.
"Don't worry, I got this," Tristian replied calmly. "What's her name?" He looked at Gerard, seeking confirmation that he was indeed her chauffeur.
"Olivia Stone," Gerard answered, his brow furrowed with worry.
"Hesitantly," Tristan said, "Hmmmmm, where's the car?"
Gerard led him to the vehicle parked nearby, opening the back seat door. Tristan gently placed Olivia inside, ensuring she was comfortable, while Gerard acknowledged Tristan's gesture with a respectful bow. He then entered the driver's seat and started the car.
As the vehicle began to pull away, Tristian took out his phone and snapped a picture of the plate number, ensuring he had a record of it. With a final glance back, he turned and headed back into the club, a sense of responsibility weighing on him.