The Billionaire's Affair: A Night With A Stranger

Abigail walked into the buzzing club. From the entrance you could tell it was strictly for the elites, the cars parked there screamed luxury. She gently reached out in curiosity to touch the silver surface of what looked like a sports car. It felt smooth and cold. She would have to work a million years before she could even afford a tire, but she dared to dream. Walking into the club she met with a smiling receptionist. She was tall, a bit taller than her, and she had beautiful blonde hair packed in a loose bun with some curls falling to her face. She seemed like the girls in the magazine with a perfect face. She was Hollywood's perfect beauty. But her smile seemed plastered, like she had a camera pointed at her and she had to make a perfect smiling effect. “Welcome to Nude Moon Clubs, how can I be of help” The receptionist scanned Abigail like she was trying to gauge her identity. She had met numerous wealthy people of different statuses, both old and new money, and she knew not many people were allowed through those gates, you must be extremely wealthy to be even considered eligible to park around the surroundings. She had met snubby little rich girls that had Daddy's money, they never paid her any attention, just swiped their cards as they got escorted into the room. She had also met strikingly beautiful girls that could pass for models…. because they sometimes were, clinging to old men, sometimes old enough to be their father ….. clinging to them like a child in an amusement park. She has heard the rumors that the rudest elites are the rich girls, with Daddy's money and a sharp tongue, but she begs to differ, the rudest are the ones with old men's money. They always had a striking red lipstick and they look at you like you are a stripper begging for the attention of the wrinkly old man. They sneer at every opportunity and they never let their partners out of their sight, he was more than money to them, he was a 70 years old worth connection, and they were not about to let the opportunity roll by. She had also met the wives…. You'd think it's the old men that cheats more, but that's another thing society got wrong. It's almost rare that you'd see the wives of these old men barge in here with mascara running down their cheeks, demanding to see the man she married, it does happen, but not as much as one would expect. They know that there's no more love…..if there ever was, in the relationship so why bother, these rich heiresses probably sit at home with a cigarette all day while they sip their tea, they have the money that these models can only dream off. It's the newly weeded that you always have to look out for. They barge in here, their makeup smudged, they don't look like the dignified heiress that is portrayed on TV and magazines, they look much more astonishing. They are always so beautiful, eye candy…. is what they're called. But they are most at times disturbingly….. stupid. More often than not a young mistress staggers in here demanding to see the man she signed a contract of marriage for, they make a scene for few minutes and when their husband is brought, they almost drag them across the floor and into the car back to their pretty little mansion…… he always comes in the next night, but the club never sees her again…. “They must have revisited the contract” She'd light up a cigarette as she sits with her best friend to share gossip about what might have happened “Or sent her to her daddy's mansion” She'd take a puff as she chuckled the smoke out. Abigail let out a small smile as she looked around awkwardly, it was like even the floor was made of gold. She felt her hair rise, it was like she was in the middle of Atlantica. “I'm looking for Slyvester….” She managed to mutter. “I see…and may I get your name” She said still having that plastered smile on her “Abigail …Abigail Owen” Abigail responded with an awkward look on her face “Please wait at the reception while I confirm from…. it'll only take a moment, would you like a margarita as you wait?” She said in like one breath, and before Abigail could even respond, she was led by what looked like a bouncer to a section of a room and a tray of margarita and salt was brought to her. A pack of cigarettes was also placed in front of her with a fancy lighter. She gave the waiter a soft smile as she used the opportunity to calm her nerves. She had never done anything like this before, and she hoped to never do it again, but she needed the money… ‘it was just a simple transaction’ She whispered to herself again as she closed her eyes to forget about what she was going to do “Excuse me miss…Abigail” She said as she read off a tablet, looking up she gave the same soulless smile as Abigail quickly sprang up her feet. “Mr Sylvester has been made aware, and he is waiting for you in the Lazy moons room, please allow the bouncer escort you” Once again, before she could process what was said to her, another bouncer who looked more gentle than the first gave her a small bow as he walked in front of her, indicating her to follow him. And so she did, mouthing a little thank you to the receptionist who still maintained her stiff smile. The club was like nothing she had seen before. She didn't regularly go to clubs, but whenever there was a class occasion, she sometimes went and she always hated the noisy and smoke filled aura that the club always had. But this was different, Barely anyone was at the dance floor and the ones who were looked too drunk to dance.