Night rolled in, the lights flicked on, and the private club was buzzing with life.
Emily's smooth, delicate skin looked even more enticing in her wine-red dress. She'd taken some allergy meds before coming, and while the red marks were fading, the itchiness still lingered.
She parked her car, grabbed her black lambskin bag, and headed towards the club. The red dress hugged her curves, with a deep V neckline showing off her collarbone and cleavage, oozing undeniable sexiness. The skirt clung perfectly to her perky bottom, making it hard not to wonder what was underneath. Emily's long legs carried her forward, each step radiating charm.
"Emily!" Marlon shouted.
She turned to see Marlon leaning against the entrance of a private room.
Marlon Hughes, heir to the Hughes Group, had short light blonde hair that screamed youthful vitality and freedom. His sharp eyebrows and bright eyes seemed to see right through people, while his straight, delicate nose added a touch of elegance. Everyone knew he was gay.
"What a coincidence, Mr. Hughes."
"Not a coincidence, I was waiting for you."
"Waiting for me?"
"Yeah, I heard from Mr. Brooks that you've been having some trouble lately?"
Emily was a bit taken aback. "One of my colleagues left the company due to personal reasons, but she's great at her job and has a solid character."
"So, you're trying to help her find a new job?"
"Yes," Emily replied softly.
"Well, our company is short-staffed. She can start at the Hughes Group tomorrow morning."
"Thank you so much!"
Emily let out a sigh of relief. Betty's situation was finally sorted, and a happy smile spread across her face, like a spring flower blooming.
Marlon was a bit stunned. He always remembered Emily as serious, rarely smiling, always in a suit. He'd never seen her in a dress before. And now, not only was she smiling, but she was also wearing such a sexy dress.
Feeling a bit self-conscious under Marlon's gaze, Emily tucked a stray hair behind her ear, not realizing it made Marlon even more captivated.
"Emily, the Hughes Group would welcome you anytime, with double the salary."
"You're too kind."
Emily was about to thank him when she saw Patrick approaching with a serious look.
"Emily, what time do you call this? Do you have no sense of time?"
Emily reached for her phone to check the time. She remembered leaving home two hours early, and it was about an hour's drive from her apartment to here. How could she be late, especially since there was no traffic today?
Patrick didn't give her a chance to explain, speaking firmly, "Why aren't you heading over yet? Do you want to keep the client waiting?"
"Patrick, why are you so clueless about showing tenderness toward women? No wonder you're still single."
Marlon casually draped his arm around Patrick's shoulder.
Patrick brushed off Marlon's hand with disdain.
"Are we close?" Patrick shot Marlon a cold look.
"Why are you talking like that? Do you want me to spill all your study abroad secrets?" Marlon teased.
Patrick glared at Marlon, who immediately shut up.
"Patrick, why aren't you going in yet?" Shirley ran over, wrapping her arm around Patrick's, almost pressing her face against him.
"So it's Marlon."
Marlon looked at Shirley with disdain, saying, "Are we close?" Marlon instinctively moved a bit closer to Emily.
Shirley didn't seem to mind, just kept clinging to Patrick's arm, gently rubbing against him. But she noticed Patrick's eyes were glued to Emily. Shirley's face darkened for a moment, then she turned back to Emily with a knowing smile.
"Emily, why are you so late? Patrick and I have been waiting forever. But Patrick, don't be too hard on her. Emily's got a lot on her plate. I mean, I do too, but thinking about helping Patrick with clients, I'll just work overtime tonight."
Emily stayed quiet.
Marlon chimed in, "Why do I feel like throwing up before even drinking? Must be something dirty around here! Patrick, I can't handle this, can I request the help of your assistant?"
Marlon signaled for Emily to help him to the bathroom.
Just as Emily was about to go, she caught Patrick's murderous glare.
"If you need to throw up, do it yourself." Patrick turned and walked towards the private room, then looked back to see Emily still standing there.
"Why aren't you following?" he barked.
Emily sighed, gave Marlon an apologetic look, and headed towards the private room.
At the entrance, Shirley wasn't in a hurry to go in. "Emily, why are you dressed so sexy today?"
What could Emily say? Should she mention that Patrick had forced her to dress like this?
Patrick had noticed Emily's red dress early on. At first, he thought she dressed like this on purpose to meet Marlon, but after listening for a while, it seemed they met by chance.
Still, the dress was a bit too sexy. What was she really up to? Patrick couldn't figure it out.
"Why aren't you coming in!"
Just as they sat down, the clients arrived.
"I've heard Mr. Rivera's assistant is quite the beauty, and seeing her today, she truly is outstanding."
The client's lecherous gaze roamed over Emily's subtly revealing neckline. Shirley clenched her fists in jealousy.
The leader of the group, a bald man in his forties with a fleshy face, Paul Lewis, raised his glass. "Come, let's drink to our future cooperation!"
Patrick downed his drink in one go, but the client showed no intention of sitting down.
Paul looked at Emily with a sleazy smile. "They say Emily is a beauty among mortals, and turns out, she truly is extraordinary. May I have the honor of a drink with her?"
Someone chimed in with a smile, "Emily is indeed a model figure in our company. Just talking about her drinking capacity, I'm afraid you can't compare."
"Is that so?" Paul left his seat and approached Emily.
Emily was in a tough spot. This project was crucial for the company, otherwise, Patrick wouldn't have personally intervened.
"Thank you for the compliment." Before Patrick could say anything, Emily picked up her glass and downed it in one go.
After a few rounds, they had almost finished drinking.
Paul sat next to Emily, trying to reach out and touch her bottom, but before he could, Patrick's tall figure blocked him.
Seemingly drunk, Paul slurred, "Wearing this outfit today, aren't you trying to get into my bed!"
Someone was shocked, saying, "How can you say that about Emily? She is the gold standard of our company's public relations."
If it weren't for the allergy and alcohol making her weak, Emily would have slapped him.
Paul looked shameless and continued, "You slut, what are you pretending for!"
Unable to bear it, Emily forced herself to stand up, intending to slap him, but she heard that familiar, magnetic voice.
"That's right, she is a slut."
It turned out that all this time, Patrick had seen her this way. Emily's eyes darkened instantly, losing her strength.
Patrick said with a cold smile, "Even if she's a slut, she belongs to me."
Unfortunately, Emily didn't hear the second half of the sentence before fainting.