Chapter 3

Ethan took me to a private club.

The third floor VIP room was very high-end. Under the dim lighting, some people were tasting wine and chatting, while others were playing poker.

When he arrived, people quickly made way -

"Bro, you're here?"

The men at the poker table were puffing on cigars, with beautiful women by their sides, whispering and laughing intimately.

After Ethan sat down, I obediently sat next to him.

The table was piled with cards and chips, but they didn't continue playing. Instead, they turned their gazes to me and teased -

"The sun must be rising from the west. Ethan actually brought a beautiful woman."

"Bro, don't say we didn't warn you. Olivia is coming over later. If she sees this, her eyes will turn red again."

"Hey, Ethan may not care if Miss Wen's eyes turn red or not. It's when little Zoe cries that he really feels bad. Last time at the cocktail party when Ethan drank too much, little Zoe came to pick him up..."

As they chatted and joked, I remained silent. Ethan gave them a cold glance: "Shut up."

They seemed to suddenly realize something, glanced at me, and quickly changed the subject: "Let's play cards! Raise the stakes!"

High-end private clubs, gathering places for the rich, filled with wealthy second-generation heirs.

This wasn't a place I should be.

Admittedly, I had been very ambitious these past few years. Megan, Quinn and I had built the company into something decent.

But it was just decent. Brilliant Create would be insignificant if placed in front of any of them.

Even if a poor family produces an outstanding child, crossing class boundaries is still as difficult as climbing to heaven. It takes several generations of effort.

I realized very early on that Ethan and I were not the same type of people.

When they played poker, the chips were easily tens of thousands of dollars.

But when I was 16, my mom tried to force-feed me pesticide over nine thousand dollars...

Life really isn't easy.

Perhaps it was the half bottle of Cheval Blanc I drank, but I belatedly felt my head spinning. For a moment, looking at the lively poker table, with the lights crisscrossing, my memories became hazy.

Surrounded by noise, I didn't know where I was.

Lost in thought, Ethan suddenly reached out and grabbed my hand.

We were very close. I was wearing a simple skirt and had my hands resting on my own legs.

He just put his hand on my bare knee like that, then turned over my left hand and interlocked our fingers.

I looked up at him.

He was sitting casually, leaning back slightly. The hand holding his cards rested on the table, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing a small section of smooth, beautiful lines.

His expression was one of complete nonchalance.

Seeing me look at him, he raised an eyebrow: "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I shook my head.

He went back to looking at his cards and soon let go of my hand.

I had just breathed a sigh of relief when his phone rang.

Looking somewhat annoyed, he shoved the cards into my hands and got up to take the call outside.

When it was my turn to play, everyone at the table was looking at me. I felt a bit awkward: "I'm sorry, I don't know how to play this."

"No worries, no worries. We won't play then, let's just chat. You look very familiar, have we met somewhere before?"

"Wow, James, you've got some nerve. You dare to hit on the woman Ethan brought?"

"Get lost, who's hitting on her? She really does look familiar."

"James, if my brother beats you up later, we won't help you."

"Screw off, do I lack women? Why would I go after his?"

...

The man called James was Ethan's childhood friend.

It was inevitable that I looked familiar, because when I was still Ethan's girlfriend, I had met him more than once.

He didn't recognize me now, which was also inevitable.

I had changed quite a bit over the years.

In college I had a short bob haircut with wispy bangs, wore glasses, and had a very bookish air.

Back then Ethan always said I was a bookworm, and that I had a baby face that looked too obedient, like I would be easy to bully.

And he wanted to bully me.

The Lucy of today had grown out her hair, gotten rid of the glasses, was very thin, and knew how to apply pretty makeup.

I had become a mature adult, truly unrecognizable compared to before.

But if one looked carefully, they could still recognize me.

A playboy like James not recognizing me only showed he had been blinded by too many flowers.

These types of people were always like this, nothing strange about it.

"What are you talking about?"

When Ethan came back, the joking and card game continued.

I tried to return the cards to him, but he didn't take them. Instead, he sat down and lit a cigarette, his fingers tapping the table calmly as he raised his chin -

"You play."

"I don't know how." I said softly.

He laughed, switched the hand holding his cigarette, then leaned in close to me. In a half-embracing posture, he reached out his right hand and drew a card from my hand.

"Play this one."

In this position, his chest was almost pressed against my back, holding me in his arms.

His low voice brushed past my ear. If I turned my head, I would surely see his face up close.

The familiar yet strange scent, the warm touch by my ear - I felt my face flush hot, my ears surely turning bright red like a cooked shrimp.

He knew better than anyone that I was ticklish, especially when someone breathed on my ear.

Sure enough, that man chuckled softly and clicked his tongue -

"So easily flustered."

I blushed even more furiously, trying hard to keep a straight face, my hand holding the cards tensing slightly.

He maintained the half-embrace posture, gripping my hand, and whispered in my ear again: "Don't be nervous, Lucy. Big brother will teach you how to play."

In that instant, my mind went blank as a familiar scene from memory flashed before me.

It was during the time we were dating years ago. We had gotten into an argument over some trivial matter.

After giving each other the cold shoulder for a few days, he was the first to give in. He called me late one night, pitifully trying to coax me -

"Lucy, I drank too much. Can you come pick me up?"

"You really don't want your big brother anymore? My head hurts so much. Please come quickly, okay? I miss you. Take me home..."

I grabbed my coat and went out. When I got to the hotel, I saw him playing cards with some friends.

The room was littered with empty bottles. He really was a bit drunk. When he saw me arrive, he stopped playing cards and immediately came over to hug me.

He hugged me so tightly, slightly hunching over to envelope my whole body. He stumbled a bit, burying his face in my neck, delighted like a child: "Baby, you came. You're not mad anymore, right?"

He had booked the room and called those card-playing friends himself, but he said without hesitation that he would leave with me.

Those friends were unhappy, saying he had made them drink and eat dog food, and now he was abandoning them mid-game. They insisted he finish that round - if he won, then he could leave.

Although I was his girlfriend, I wasn't very familiar with his group of childhood friends. When Ethan ignored them, they ganged up to pull me over, pushing me into a seat and shoving cards into my hands, clamoring for Lucy to play in his place.

I held a hand of cards, at a loss for what to do.

That's when Ethan embraced me from behind, gripping my hand holding the cards. He chuckled softly in my ear: "Don't be nervous, Lucy. Big brother will teach you how to play."

...

I had a feeling Ethan was doing this on purpose. His revenge was only just beginning.

In that moment, my body tensed up. My forehead and body broke out in a sweat.

Seeing this, Ethan sneered but didn't say anything more. After finishing the round of cards, he leaned back lazily in his chair.

The cold sweat on my back had barely dissipated and I still hadn't come back to my senses when I saw him tap the table. He slowly curled his lips into a smile and looked at me: "Not feeling well? There's a room ready upstairs. Should we go to bed?"

This time, it wasn't a whisper in my ear. He said it loud enough for everyone to hear, drawing all eyes to us.

Our gazes met. His pitch-black eyes were calm and emotionless, revealing nothing.

From the moment I met him, I knew what an arrogant person he was.

Even after all these years, he still retained that youthful mischievousness in his bones.

Knowing I was thin-skinned and cared about face, that's why he blurted it out in front of everyone.

The gazes that turned to look were complex and intertwined - probing, curious, also surprised.

It seems Ethan's behavior tonight was different from usual, making some people sense something was off.

That slow-witted James finally reacted -

"...I recognize you now, you're, you're Lucy!"

His expression could be described as very shocked. Along with Lucy's name, for some reason, the atmosphere became clearly different after he said it.

The few men at the poker table, who had been waiting to see the show, also grew serious.

Only the women mingling with them continued to gossip cluelessly:

"Who? Who's Lucy?"

Who is Lucy?

I also wanted to know, who is Lucy? Why was she appearing by Ethan's side tonight, enduring this hot and cold treatment?

She must be a pitiful and laughable person.

For a moment, I seemed to see that stubborn girl from my youth again, full of self-esteem, desperately trying to distance herself from a world that didn't belong to her.

But she was an adult now, and had to follow adult rules of survival.

I lowered my lashes, which trembled slightly. Then I raised my head and smiled at Ethan: "Let's play a bit longer, Mr. Chi. No rush."

I was very calm, and he was equally calm. His dark eyes met mine, that calmness concealing a turbulent undercurrent.

His thin lips pressed together. There was an emotion in his eyes that I couldn't understand. Then his gaze swept over everyone, and he inexplicably became angry, snapping irritably: "What are you looking at her for? Damn it, look at your cards!"