Day 2
Isabella and Olivia were on their way to the club.
Although the unspoken rules of the entertainment industry were somewhat exaggerated, female celebrities and investors often couldn’t avoid contact. Once in good terms, being taken care of was not uncommon.
As they rode in the car, Isabella kept a cold expression, making Olivia sigh.
“Can you not act like a child? If you really don’t like it, just go in, handle it reluctantly, then find an excuse to leave,” Olivia said.
Isabella kept looking out of the window, remaining silent.
Olivia, feeling increasingly helpless, continued, “It’s customary for female stars to accompany investors for meals in the industry, usually arranged by the company. I’ve made excuses for you many times before, but this time, you have to come. Many of the films you’ve acted in were funded by these people. In other words, they are your patrons.”
Olivia was similarly averse to this situation, but one had to accept reality; being excessively proud would only lead to being eliminated from the industry.
Despite Isabella’s noble status, since she had entered this profession, she had to abide by its rules.
“I understand,” Isabella said emotionlessly.
Olivia comforted her by patting her shoulder, “Don’t worry, those investors are influential figures. If you don’t want to, nobody would dare to cross the line.”
Those wealthy individuals valued their status and reputation and wouldn’t force women into anything. With their wealth, they could have any kind of woman they wanted, so there was no need to invite trouble.
Isabella nodded. She wasn’t worried about being bullied. With her skills, handling a few men was a piece of cake.
She was simply feeling fed up. Pretending to enjoy the company of wealthy men, drinking and laughing with them against her will, made her shiver at the thought.
The car stopped in front of a private club, the night growing darker, the neon lights at the club’s entrance dazzling.
Following Olivia, Isabella had just stepped into the revolving door when a man in a pink suit hurried over. “Why did you take so long? We’ve been waiting for you.”
After the man in the pink suit spoke, he reached out to pull Isabella, but she evaded it discreetly.
The man in the pink suit showed slight displeasure on his face and subconsciously looked at Olivia. “What’s the meaning of this? Olivia, you didn’t bring this woman here to cause trouble, did you? Let me make it clear upfront; inside are all prominent figures. If something goes wrong, we’ll all be in trouble.”
“We’ve been doing business for a while now. You don’t need to worry about the people I bring along. Isabella might have a bit of a ‘princess’ attitude, but she knows the rules,” Olivia replied with a smile, signaling to Isabella.
Isabella reluctantly managed a smile, “Sir, please lead the way.”
The man nodded and led her into a private room.
The room was extravagantly luxurious, with walls shimmering with golden hues, emanating an air of opulence and extravagance-a favorite setting for wealthy individuals.
The man in the pink suit was like a pimp, enthusiastically introducing Isabella.
After he finished, he pushed her lightly, “Isabella, why don’t you start by singing a song to liven up the mood?”
Isabella wore a fake smile on her face, confidently walked onto the small stage set up in the private room, and grabbed the microphone stand.
She was here today to sell smiles and entertainment. If the benefactors wanted her to sing, she had to sing until they were satisfied.
Standing on stage, she glanced around at the people seated before her.
Several women were familiar faces, including a newly rising female singer and a well-known young model. As for the men, their average age ranged between forty to fifty years old. The only one who stood out was a man in his thirties, tall and sturdy, not particularly outstanding in appearance but exuding a tough and aloof demeanor.
Isabella’s gaze lingered on him for a few seconds. Subconsciously, she felt that this man must have a military background or had served in the military before.
As the song ended, she descended from the stage and took a seat, smiling.
The other men were accompanied by female celebrities, while the man in his thirties occupied a three-person sofa alone.
She could only choose to sit next to him.
“Isabella?” The man smiled, appraising her, his smile carrying a hint of mischief.
“Yes,” Isabella raised her highball glass and took a symbolic sip, “May I ask how I should address you?”
“Brandon Baker,” the man replied.
“Hello, Mr. Brandon.”
Brandon lounged lazily on the sofa, swaying his highball glass, his gaze shamelessly fixed on Isabella.
He had seen and been with countless beauties from Schenectady town, ranging from hundreds to thousands, and while Isabella wasn’t the most beautiful, she was undeniably the most enticing.
Her eyes were too clear, and men had a penchant for things that were clean and pure, wanting to possess them.
After brief exchanges, they fell into an awkward stalemate.
Isabella wasn’t skilled in conversing with unfamiliar men. To avoid discomfort, she could only hold her glass, occasionally taking a sip of the red wine inside, of course, stopping at just a taste and not drinking much.
In such circumstances, drinking too much was quite risky. She wouldn’t do anything foolish.
Isabella raised her glass again when a warm palm silently and stealthily covered her hand, as clean and porcelain-like as her own, with a teasing stroke.
“Drinking too much is bad for your health, especially for such a beautiful girl like you, who should pay more attention to skincare,” Brandon’s voice resonated in her ears, vibrating her eardrums.
Unconsciously, he leaned in so close to her that she could even feel his breath on her cheek, mixed with a strong scent of alcohol.
Isabella lowered her head slightly, her beautiful eyebrows almost furrowed together. She coldly stared at the hand gripping hers. Honestly, Brandon’s palm had well-defined joints, exuding a sense of strength and beauty.