Amy looked at her expression and knew her words had been too harsh, but the arrow was already loosed and couldn't be called back.
She softened her voice but spoke more earnestly:
"Don't think of Ethan as one of those college boys who'll grovel for your attention. He's elite wealth, and his mind and methods far exceed yours and mine. Playing coy and hard-to-get in front of him will only make him think you're childish and ridiculous, and then completely lose interest. What does he want? He wants a woman who's sensible, obedient, and can make him happy and relaxed—not a little princess who needs him to spend his energy coaxing!"
Seeing the wavering in Jessica's eyes, Amy finally sighed and patted the back of her hand:
"Jessica, your beauty is your greatest weapon and your only advantage right now. Don't waste it on unnecessary games and tantrums. The opportunity is right in front of you—whether you can seize it or not is entirely up to you. Think about it. Don't miss an opportunity you may never encounter again in your lifetime because of temporary stubbornness. By then, it'll be too late for regrets."
Jessica was silent for a long time. The noisy music in the bar seemed to become background noise.
Finally.
She nodded heavily, her voice a little hoarse:
"Amy... I understand. Thank you."
Although these words were cold, piercing, and suffocating, she understood that Amy was sincerely looking out for her, hoping she wouldn't indulge in fantasy princess dreams, and could seize this fleeting opportunity to live a completely different life.
At this moment.
The atmosphere at table 009 was reaching its climax.
Brilliant lights swept over excited faces, and deafening music drummed against hearts.
Ethan was surrounded by enthusiastic flight attendants who smiled and competed to toast him, their bodies approaching intentionally or unintentionally—warm, fragrant, infinitely alluring.
Ethan picked up a glass of amber liquid and took a gentle sip—spicy and sweet.
Looking at the "grand scene" before him, he suddenly understood why those young rich guys loved bars.
Where was it for the taste of the alcohol? The drinks in bars that cost thousands or tens of thousands might not taste as good as the craft beer in street restaurants.
What attracted them was the immense satisfaction of being the center of attention here, and the pleasure brought by the almost infinite desire to conquer easily satisfied by the power of money.
Deafening music isolated the outside world and shortened the distance between people.
If you wanted to talk, you had to get close to someone's ear—warm breathing, ambiguous whispers, mixed with the catalyst of alcohol. This situation coupled with the effect of booze could easily make people lose their heads and create intimacy.
Drunken decadence was the most corrupting.
....
The atmosphere at the table was in full swing, with the aroma of wine and laughter intertwined.
At this moment.
Sophia appeared again, holding a bottle of premium red wine with a simple design and a conspicuous vintage printed on the label, walking gracefully through the noisy crowd and coming straight to Ethan.
She said to Ethan:
"Hello Mr. Miller, our owner specifically ordered this bottle of 2005 Romanée-Conti to be given to you to express his appreciation. He said he's sorry he couldn't come in person, but you're very welcome at Marquee."
She gently placed the red wine on the table with both hands, her movements careful.
Ethan's eyes swept over the bottle of expensive wine. Even though he wasn't very knowledgeable, the name and vintage of this top winery were enough to explain its significance, and he understood.
This Marquee owner, whom he'd never met, obviously wanted to establish good relations with him.
He wasn't polite—after all, he'd be spending the next four years of college here.
He nodded indifferently:
"I'll accept the wine. Please thank your owner for me."
"Of course, Mr. Miller! I'll definitely pass along your words!"
Sophia's face brightened even more, and she bowed slightly:
"Then I won't disturb you and your friends any longer. I wish you a wonderful night."
After saying that, she turned on her high heels and disappeared neatly into the crowd of light and shadow.
This scene made the eyes of the flight attendants at the table instantly light up amazingly!
The owner personally delivering premium wine? Ethan's "status" was skyrocketing at a visible rate!
Their eyes grew even hotter when they looked at Ethan, and they clustered around him toasting softly, the atmosphere growing even more intoxicating.
And this scene was also noticed by people at surrounding tables, making them grind their back teeth.
Why were all the rare beauties at his table, and they clearly didn't have that worldly air about them.
Yet all of them were practically throwing themselves at him—it was simply unreasonable.
Their hearts were extremely unbalanced.
Looking at the women at their own tables—they were all subpar, and to top it off, they were all fucking...
A man at table 003 on the other side also became interested.
Marcus.
A local rich second-generation fat guy who had a spending record of over 100,000 at Marquee and called himself the "Little King of New York."
He was used to being the focus wherever he went, enjoying others' envious gazes.
But tonight, the young man at table 009 not only brought a group of extremely high-quality beauties—all of them better than the so-called "top-tier" girls he usually could hook up with—but now even the bar owner was personally sending such a precious gift as a goodwill gesture?
This dealt an unprecedented blow to his proud status and face!
Jealousy instantly burned away his reason.
He narrowed his small eyes and examined Ethan carefully: dressed ordinarily, bare wrists without even a decent watch!
Hmph, probably the son of some nouveau riche from a small town who ran to New York to show off as soon as he got some spare change! Marcus made a vicious conclusion in his heart.
He picked up a glass of red wine, with an arrogant swagger, swayed his fat body, and walked straight into Ethan's area.
He completely ignored Ethan's existence, and his greasy eyes fixed directly on Amy, who had an outstanding temperament, squeezing out a smile he thought was charming but actually looked more like a leering pig:
"Hi, beautiful! How boring is it to drink alone? I'm at table 003—it's spacious and has plenty of drinks. I promise to show you a good time!"
He stretched out his pudgy hand, as if he wanted to grab Amy's arm.
Amy frowned slightly, leaned back imperceptibly to avoid his touch, her voice cold with a hint of disgust:
"Not interested. Please go back."
"Not interested?"
The smile on Marcus's face froze instantly, then turned so dark it could drip water:
"Are you sure? Do you know who I am?"
He raised his volume, trying to intimidate with his identity.
Just as he wanted to continue.
Ethan's body, which had been lazily leaning on the sofa, sat up straight slightly. He raised his eyebrows, his voice not loud but carrying an unquestionable coldness:
"This is my table. The lady doesn't want to go with you—why are you still here? Don't you have any self-awareness about what you look like? Do you need someone to spell it out for you?"
He paused and spat out two words: "Idiot."
"Pfft!"
Sophie on the side couldn't hold back anymore and laughed outright.
Ethan's merciless ridicule, combined with Marcus's appearance, was too lethal.
Several other flight attendants also covered their mouths and snickered, their eyes full of contempt.
"You fucking dare laugh at me?"
Marcus's anger was completely ignited in an instant! Forget being insulted by Ethan—now even the women around him dared to laugh at him to his face?
This was simply the ultimate humiliation!
He turned his head suddenly, his bloodshot little eyes staring at Sophie as if he wanted to swallow her alive.
Since he'd first come to this bar, not one of the girls he'd met had dared to laugh at him.
This Ethan in front of him, who came from who knows where, could mock him, but even the women hanging around him dared to laugh at him? This bitch dared to laugh at him?
Sophie was startled by his ferocious appearance and subconsciously clung to Ethan, her voice carrying a hint of grievance and innocence:
"I didn't! I don't usually laugh..."
She paused and blinked her big eyes:
"Unless I really can't help it."
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