Hiding the Billionaire's Twins (English)

Chapter 4

My hands felt ice-cold as I sat waiting for customers. I couldn't tell if Rihav was actually here or if I had simply misheard what Ella said. Maybe it was just someone with the same name, it was entirely possible. Ella's tone had been a bit theatrical, so perhaps my mind was just playing tricks on me.

I remained seated for the time being, as the crowd inside Highden had yet to pick up. Still, my initial impression upon stepping into the building proved correct: almost everyone here belonged to the upper class. Their lavish attire and exquisite jewelry made that abundantly clear.

“Are you doing alright, Fay?” Farah asked from beside me, casually licking a lollipop.

She was fully made up now and looked absolutely breathtaking. The girls usually did their makeup in the back area. She had invited me to join her earlier, but I declined, opting only for a light dusting of face powder and a hint of lip gloss. I knew nothing about cosmetics and couldn't afford them anyway, so the subtle touch-up felt unfamiliar enough as it was.

“I’m fine,” I replied quietly, offering her a faint smile.

She rolled her eyes and reached out to hold my hand. “Then why are your hands freezing? Are you cold in that uniform? I can ask Boss Tessa to give you a different one.”

I immediately shook my head. “No, really, it’s fine. My body is probably just adjusting. I’m not used to staying in air-conditioned spaces for long, I’m more accustomed to working under the sun, so that’s probably why.”

I didn't want the other workers getting the wrong idea. Being brand new and receiving special treatment right off the bat would only invite unnecessary trouble. The last thing I needed was to make enemies when I was already carrying so much weight on my shoulders.

“You look so tense, girl. What’s going on?” she pressed. “Don't tell me those mean girls got to you?” She was referring to Ella and her group.

I wasn't afraid of Ella. What truly terrified me was the name she had dropped, Rihav. What if that man was actually here?! I had nothing compared to him, and if he found me, everything I had worked so hard to hide would be exposed!

I shook my head once more. “It’s not them. The truth is...” I hesitated, torn over whether I should confide in Farah about my predicament.

This was my burden to bear, and I worried about how she might view me. Swallowing my anxiety, I offered another soft smile and let out a quiet sigh.

I couldn't be entirely sure if Farah was someone I could trust just yet. We had only met today and barely knew each other. Revealing my secret too soon could end up being my downfall. Even though I felt an easy comfort around her, acting recklessly was a risk I couldn't afford to take with a relative stranger.

She gave my hand a gentle shake, pulling my gaze back to hers. “I know we just met, and I can see in your eyes that you don't fully trust me yet. I respect that, Fay. But whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m right here. You’re pretty much my only friend in this place...” Her voice softened into a gentle whisper on the last sentence.

I looked at her closely. Her eyes were dramatically accentuated with makeup, perfectly complementing her deep red lipstick. She turned back to her mirror, pouting her lips slightly to touch up her color.

I took a breath. “I-Is there a customer here... named R-Rihav?” The words felt heavy on my tongue.

She glanced at me and gave an immediate nod. “Yeah, Mr. Rihav Stallone Madreal. He’s the only Rihav around here, and the girls flock to him like crazy. Why do you ask? Do you know him? He’s a VIP here.”

I quickly shook my head. I wasn't ready to tell her the truth, nor was I sure if I ever would be. For now, all I needed to figure out was why he was here at this club and on Isla Fera in general.

“I don't know him. I just overheard Ella mention his name earlier,” I lied smoothly.

“Well, he’s filthy rich,” Farah explained. “Word is he’s already spoken for, which is why none of us can get close to him. Lyn—Ella’s friend—literally stripped in front of Mr. Madreal once. Want to guess what she got out of it?” She paused, waiting for my response, so I shook my head. “Absolute ghosting. She didn't get a single dime from him, probably because he’s fiercely loyal to his wife. To him, it’s like none of the girls here even exist.”

What am I supposed to do if he’s here?

And why is he here in the first place if he’s married? Did Dyessie actually let him wander off to Isla Fera? Does his wife even know?

Rihav had always been headstrong; once his mind was set on something, there was no bending his will. He always demanded full control. Back then, he called all the shots in our relationship, leaving me with no voice and no choice but to follow.

A complete control freak.

“So what does he even do here then? Are you sure he doesn't have a mistress hidden away?”

“He’s close friends with the club owner, Sir Haiden. He’s probably only here because it’s the first week of the month. I’m telling you the truth, girl, he doesn't lay a finger on the girls here. He just drinks, chats with his friends, and leaves.”

I bit my lower lip. “So... he really is married.”

“Yeah, Fabio mentioned he is. Supposedly, he loves his wife deeply, which is why he keeps his distance from other women. His wife is back in Main City, I think. He’s only on the island for business, according to Fabio.”

He probably really did love her. Years ago, he made me believe I was the love of his life, only to turn around and marry another woman, right in front of my face.

Even so, I had no right or reason to care about him anymore. Giving him everything, including my virginity, might have been a mistake, but I could never bring myself to regret it. It gave me the two greatest treasures of my life: my children, who were my ultimate source of strength.

If he was happy with the life he chose, I was content with the quiet life I had built. Perhaps it was true what they said: some people are meant to cross paths, but not to end up together; meant to love, but not to marry. It was a painful chapter, but I was grateful for the fleeting moments of genuine joy it brought me, even if they were ultimately eclipsed by heartache.

At least we shared those memories.

“I see...” was all I managed to offer in response to Farah’s story.

“Why are you so curious about Mr. Madreal? Do you two know each other, or—”

Before Farah could finish her thought, a loud clap echoed from behind us, followed by a voice calling us to report for duty.

“Girls! Get ready, the crowd outside is building up!”

Farah and I stood up in unison. She gave me a quick nod before heading toward the stage. I nodded back and made my way over to where the rest of the waitstaff were gathering.

I introduced myself as the new waitress, and they welcomed me politely. As the club grew increasingly packed, everyone scattered to attend to their duties. Cheers and music filled the air as the crowd danced near the stage where Farah was performing.

I shifted my focus away from the noise when one of the bartenders signaled me to pick up an order. Walking over, I gathered the drinks, checking the table number assigned to the tray before carefully lifting it.

As I navigated through the venue, I felt increasingly self-conscious in my uniform. Bumped and jostled by passing guests, the liquid inside the glasses sloshed dangerously close to the rim. Fortunately, I managed to keep my balance and keep the tray steady. Still unfamiliar with the club's layout, finding the right table proved to be a challenge.

Despite the crowded space, I kept searching until I finally located the table number matching my order, it was clearly displayed on the wall right beside a booth. I approached the guests with a welcoming smile, determined to remain professional.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Here is your order,” I said pleasantly, setting their drinks down

.

The three men at the table turned their attention to me. One look at their expressions was all it took to reveal their predatory intentions. I tried not to be judgmental, but the way their eyes locked onto my chest confirmed my initial instinct. I quickly placed the rest of the bottles on the table and prepared to excuse myself.

Before I could take a step back, one of the men reached out and grabbed my arm.

“Are you new here?” he asked, his gaze still lingering where it shouldn't have been.

Given how revealing the uniform was, inappropriate behavior from certain patrons was almost inevitable. He wasn't even intoxicated yet, making his conduct all the more uncalled for.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied calmly, careful not to sound rude.

The last thing I wanted was for a guest to complain to the owner and get me fired on my first night. How else was I going to afford the phone Hacov wanted so badly?

“Looking to earn some extra income? Say, 1000 bucks for one night?” he offered casually.

I shook my head firmly. “You can offer that to the other girls, Sir. That isn't part of my job; I’m strictly a waitress here,” I stated bluntly, a response I immediately regretted as the words left my mouth.

Great, now I’m definitely getting fired!

“I like you already, Baby. How about 2000?”

“It’s still a no, Sir.” I attempted to pry my arm from his grasp, but his grip only tightened. “Sir, I have work to do. If you’re looking for companion services, please direct your attention to the performers on stage. They are available to assist you.” With that, I yanked my arm back forcefully.

Anger flared in his eyes at my blunt refusal. Reaching out, he grabbed my arm once more and aggressively yanked me toward him. A wave of panic rushed through me as I fought to break free.

“Are you out of your mind?! Sir Haiden will have your head if you force yourself on the staff!” the man seated across from him interjected sharply. “You know what happens to anyone who lays hands on his employees!”

Without a second thought, the man violently shoved me away just as I was about to be pulled onto his lap. The sheer force of his push sent me stumbling backward, my forehead slamming hard against the sharp concrete edge of an adjacent booth. A sharp cry of pain escaped my lips as the impact hit.

Due to the deafening music inside the venue, hardly anyone noticed the commotion aside from the women sitting at the neighboring table. They glanced over at me, but instead of offering a helping hand, they simply rolled their eyes and muttered under their breath about how clumsy I was. Overwhelmed by shame and embarrassment, I buried my face in my hands.

Slowly pulling myself up, I pressed a hand against the spot where my head had struck the concrete edge, only to feel a warm wetness against my skin. I pulled my hand back and saw blood staining my palm. I glanced back at the table of men, noticing a look of genuine pity from the one who had tried to intervene earlier. I offered a quick, respectful bow before turning to walk away as fast as I could.

I made a beeline for the exit, accidentally bumping into a few patrons along the way in my haste.

“Ow!” I gasped as someone’s elbow brushed directly against the fresh wound on my forehead, sending a sharp sting through my head despite my hand shielding it.

My very first day, and I already managed to mess up completely! What if Sir Haiden fires me over this? Please, Lord, don't let that happen.

“Aphrodite?”

The sound of that voice made me freeze instantly. There were only two people in this world who ever addressed me by that name. Slowly, I lifted my gaze.

“Sean?” I breathed out as my eyes landed on the man standing before me.

He reached out and gently took hold of the hand I was using to cover my forehead, pulling it away to see what I was hiding. His eyes widened in immediate shock at the sight of the bleeding wound. Without a moment's hesitation, he unbuttoned his suit jacket, took it off, and wrapped it securely around my shoulders.

“What on earth happened to you, Aphrodite? Why are you even here? This isn't a place you belong in!” Sean's voice was laced with rising anger as he guided me away from the crowd.

Once we were far enough from the entrance, standing right in front of his car, he turned me around to face him directly. I kept my hand pressed against my forehead, but the bleeding still hadn't stopped completely.

“Damn it, answer me, Fayre Aphrodite!” Sean barked, slamming his hand against the roof of his car in frustration.

I flinched at the loud thud. In all the time I had known Sean back in La Meyanda, I had never seen him this furious. His appearance had changed significantly over the years; he had grown even more refined and handsome. His family had always been well-off, owning vast tracts of land in La Meyanda, and he appeared even more prosperous now.

Despite the years that had passed, he clearly hadn't forgotten me. The last time we saw each other was back in college, before he moved abroad and I was forced to drop out due to my family's financial struggles.

He was also the first person to ever call me by my second name. I never quite understood why my mother chose it for me, I certainly didn't feel like some Aphrodite, nor did I consider myself breathtakingly beautiful like a goddess.

“Aphrodite, are you just going to stare at me? What happened to your head, and why are you dressed like this?” he demanded, his irritation barely contained.

“What are you even doing here, Sean? I didn't know you were back from abroad, you didn't even bother to—”

He cut me off with a sharp, muttered curse. “I asked you first, Aphrodite. What happened to your forehead, and why is it bleeding?” His tone softened slightly as he pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and gently pressed it against my wound.

I pouted slightly before answering. “I work here,” I muttered, pointing back toward the club.

His brows furrowed instantly as he crossed his arms. “And what about this?” he asked, gesturing toward my injury with his chin.

There was no point in hiding the truth from Sean once he made up his mind. “A customer inside shoved me. I turned down a proposal he made, so he pushed me, and my head hit the corner of a concrete table.”

A dark wave of fury swept across Sean's face the moment the words left my mouth. Reaching out, he pulled me closer by the waist, taking the handkerchief back into his hands to carefully wipe the blood away himself.

“Dammit... whoever did this to you, I’ll make damn sure tonight is the last night he walks freely on this earth,” he muttered coldly, his gaze fixed on my wound as he cleaned it.