Zayden's car zoomed past some people and pulled into the parking lot. He stepped out and headed toward the nightclub that loomed at the corner of the bustling city street.
Its facade was sleek black marble, accompanied by a flickering purple neon light. The sign above the entrance flashed in electric purple and white, reading "Eclipse," casting a vibrant glow on the eager crowd.
Zayden's left hand instinctively went to his pocket, and he smirked as he joined the line of people waiting to enter.
A red velvet rope lined the entrance, where two bouncers stood on opposite sides, clad entirely in black. They were responsible for checking IDs with unflinching stares.
He wasn't the type to go to clubs and actually hated them. To avoid unwanted attention, he used his hat to cover his face.
He noticed some ladies in short skirts and crop tops giggling at him.
"Why am I this handsome?" he said to himself proudly, ruffling his hair. The giggles from the ladies increased at his action.
When it was finally his turn, he handed over his ID. Upon seeing the membership card, the bouncers's demeanor changed; they cowered in fear, immediately bowing to him.
"Sorry for the delay, Mr. Zayden," they said, stepping aside to allow him enter.
He entered the club after the card from the bouncers, wondering why they had reacted that way.
The girls who had been giggling wondered who he was.
As soon as he entered, he was bombarded by loud music, with its deep bass vibrating throughout the club.
The air was thick with the scent of perfume, cigarette smoke, and sweat, creating an uneasy taste for Zayden.
The walls shimmered with LED lights that shifted colors in rhythm with the music. A massive chandelier made entirely of glass shards hung from the ceiling, casting pulsating light onto the crowded dance floor.
Zayden rolled his eyes in frustration and began searching for Damien.
"Where is that bastard?" he muttered to himself as he glanced around the area.
"Mr. Zayden?" he heard a voice call out. He swiveled his head in the direction of the voice.
Zayden raised his brows, unable to recognize the man approaching him.
Upon noticing Zayden's confused expression, the man said, "I'm the manager. I heard there was a VVIP member tonight, and I immediately came to see who it was." He chuckled at his own words.
"VVIP?" Zayden asked, half-talking to himself in confusion. He then checked the ID he collected from Ryan before leaving, realizing it was a membership card for VVIP access.
"That brat!" he muttered with a smile, referring to Ryan.
"I would like to escort you personally to your seat," the manager offered, extending his hand.
Zayden nodded reluctantly and followed him through the throngs of ladies swaying and twirling, their faces illuminated by flashes of strobe lights.
He had no idea where the man was taking him, but all he wanted was to arrive as quickly as possible.
After ascending a stairway, the manager directed him to a lobby area. Zayden immediately settled into a seat and let out a sigh of relief.
"What would you like us to offer you?" the manager asked, his hands crossed in front of him like a submissive servant.
Zayden had come here for a deal, and now this man was offering him a drink.
Well, it isn't that bad before I get down to today's business.
"Cocktail," he said randomly.
The man batted his eyelashes, as if he hadn't heard him correctly.
"Cock…Cocktail?" the man repeated with a stilted smile. What he had misheard was confirmed when he saw Zayden nod his head innocently.
Who orders a cocktail when clubbing? he thought discreetly.
"Mr. Zayden must have a different taste," he said before quickly leaving to direct his staff.
Soon after, he returned with slender ladies who swayed their hips around Zayden as they placed down his orders.
Once they finished serving him, the ladies sat down, placing the trays on the table and revealing their long legs.
The manager cleared his throat to gain Zayden's attention. "Our club is the best in the city. You don't just get drinks; you get everything at your feet, including ladies. No wonder people like Damien enjoy clubbing here," he joked, laughter echoing around him, unaware of the trouble he was about to land in.
"Damien?" Zayden asked, a mischievous smirk on his lips.
"Yes, he is also one of our VVIP members, and he enjoys our services," the manager replied with a smile.
"You said I can have everything at my feet, right?" Zayden asked, a smirk curling at his lips—one known for its sinister nature.
"Of course. It's your right," the manager said.
Zayden relaxed in his seat, a smirk on his face, his eyes foretelling doom.
"Bring Damien to me," he finally said.
The manager thought he had misheard again, but the look on Zayden's face made it clear he was serious.
Damien was also a big shot, though he was dependent on his father. He was just a scumbag who treated the poor like rags.
"Dami…Damien?"
"Yes, can't I have him at my feet?" Zayden asked, his smirk fading and his brows creasing.
"No, not at all," the manager stammered, his hands trembling as he cowered in fear and bowed down.
He had heard how cold and ruthless Zayden could be, while Damien was just the playboy type, often changing his girlfriend more than he changed his clothes.
Rather than being the scapegoat tonight, he opted to bring Damien instead. After all, it was better to upset a rat than to confront a tiger.
"I'll bring him to you immediately," he said hurriedly, about to leave when Zayden stopped him.
"Get rid of your, um, stuff. I need a private chat with Damien," he smiled coldly, pointing at the three ladies who were trying desperately for Zayden's attention.
The manager motioned for them to move away from Zayden and immediately marched toward him.
Within a few minutes, the manager returned, dragging the drunken Damien, who seemed ready to pick a fight with him for pulling him away from the lobby.
"I have brought him, Mr. Zayden," the manager said, bowing as he gripped Damien's blue shirt. Damien was still struggling to break free from the manager's hold.
"You did well," Zayden replied, standing up and walking over to the manager, who remained bowed in submission.
He handed the manager an envelope filled with money, and the manager couldn't help but feel elated.
As he released his grip to take the envelope, his eyes sparkled with excitement at the amount inside.
"If you ever need my services, I'm always here," he said quickly before rushing out, leaving Zayden and Damien alone.
Zayden chuckled softly at the manager's reaction to the money.
Damien squinted, trying to recognize the man in front of him. Finally, he exclaimed joyfully, "Zayden!"
"You know me?" Zayden asked, raising his eyebrows with a cheeky smile.
"Of course! Let's sit down," Damien replied as he staggered toward a chair.
"Unfortunately, I don't know you. I only heard about you through a bad deed," Zayden teased, walking toward a seat.
Zayden was expecting a reply, but then an outburst of laughter erupted from Damien's mouth. He laughed until his jaw ached, prompting Zayden to furrow his brows in confusion.
"Who drinks cocktails in a club?" Damien laughed harder, clutching his stomach and pointing at the cocktail on the table.
Unbeknownst to him, his laughter had triggered something dangerous— a side of Zayden that he would never dare to confront.
"Anna? I heard she committed suicide," Zayden said, crossing one leg over the other as he picked up the cocktail from the table and took a sip.
"How did you know Anna?" Damien asked, an icy tone creeping into his voice as all traces of laughter vanished.
After a few seconds, he scoffed, "You must have been the bastard she cheated with."
"Bastard?" Zayden replied, tilting his head, a deep chuckle escaping his pink lips.
Damien said nothing, only stared at Zayden in silence.
Finally, he broke the stillness with his words, "You know I loved Anna so much, but she didn't love me back. She cheated on me. I couldn't bear to share her with anyone, so… so I…"
"So, you did what?" he asked, prying further, his gaze never leaving his.
He wanted to know the truth behind Anna's death, despite the fact that Ryan had told him Damien killed her. It was part of his work, anyway.
"I… I killed her and slept with her corpse for the last time," he said, chuckling deeply before it turned into loud, unsettling laughter. His eyes were red, likely from excessive drinking.
Psychopath? That was the perfect description of who Damien was, as Zayden watched him laugh eerily.