Chapter 6 – "Where the goddess sits, the world bows."
The entire club held its breath.
Not because they were forced to.
But because Luna had that effect.
A dress sculpted on the body as if woven by stars.
Thin sandals that tinkled subtly on the marble.
Perfume that danced in the air before she said any word.
And eyes carrying a silent glow — as if they knew something the rest of the world would never discover.
She crossed the hall with lazy steps.
Upon reaching the table, the three women stopped what they were doing.
No words.
Only glances.
Victória straightened in her chair. She gave a smile that was 80% charm and 20% trying not to look hypnotized. "Wow... If I had known you were coming like this, I would have hired an emergency stylist."
Nikoly just lifted her eyes, analyzing Luna from head to toe with mathematical precision. "Impressive. No visible signature. No logo. But that cut... that fit..."
She leaned slightly. "Tailored by someone who understands the female soul. Or by magic."
Lumine smiled calmly, but with a clear sparkle in her eyes.
She was used to dealing with princesses, actresses, aristocrats...
But Luna?
Luna was a different category.
"You arrived, and suddenly my dress looks ordinary. And it cost 40 thousand euros."
Luna stopped in front of the table, bowed slightly, and greeted each one with a delicate kiss on the cheek.
"Sorry for the delay. I had to negotiate with the mirror before leaving."
The three laughed lightly, enchanted.
She sat in the only empty chair. And as she settled, crossing her legs elegantly and resting her chin on her hand, she said, "So... what's the plan for the goddesses tonight?"
Victória swirled her glass energetically. "Dance? Toast? Steal the spotlight and maybe some security cameras?"
Nikoly whispered. "Maybe hunt... for information. Some foreign investors are present. Some with shady pasts."
Lumine added. "And there are rumors that a crown prince is disguised here tonight. Watching. Choosing who to ally with in the future."
Luna raised an eyebrow. "And do you think he'll still manage to look at anyone else after I walked in?"
The three laughed.
"I think you could cause a small diplomatic incident just with a smile," said Victória.
"Or start a war for attention," teased Nikoly.
"Or end a dynasty with a wink," finished Lumine.
The waiter arrived, respectfully bowing. "Would you like something, miss...?"
Luna took the menu and looked, then handed it back without reading.
"Surprise me. But bring something that fits a woman who has a Bugatti in the garage and a bad habit of dominating halls."
The waiter swallowed dry. "S-sure, miss."
Moments later, the glasses met with a light clink.
The imperial beer foam shimmered under the amber light of the private club, and the conversation among the four women flowed as if they were on top of the world — because, frankly, they were.
Luna leaned back in the chair, observing.
Victória, already on her third glass, dropped the previous topic and looked at her friends with sparkling eyes. "Girls... did you hear about the scandal with the heir of the Mass family?"
Nikoly raised an eyebrow, interested. "Vincent Mass? The golden boy of hotels in Asia?"
Lumine, who seemed to already know, just gave a contained smirk and took an elegant sip.
Victória leaned over the table, whispering. "They caught him red-handed with two prostitutes... in one of the presidential suites of his own chain. And the detail? It was the fiancée who opened the door."
"Oh... no," said Nikoly, widening her eyes with that amused and cynical tone. "With cameras and everything?"
"With everything. The girl tracked his card. Recorded EVERYTHING. She's threatening to leak it if his family tries to silence her or make a financial deal."
Lumine shook her head, still with that noble air that looked like she had seen this kind of thing a hundred times. "The Mass family always had that rot camouflaged by public donations and magazine covers."
Victória completed. "The poor girl... was on a social campaign with him. The engagement photos were so perfect that I almost believed love existed."
Nikoly crossed her arms, impassive. "Men like that don't cheat out of desire. They cheat out of arrogance. They think they'll never pay the price."
Luna, until then silent, raised the glass to her lips. The cold liquid was refreshing, but the bitterness that rose wasn't from the drink.
She kept her face expressionless.
But inside... "Tch. Scoundrels. Always the same. Expensive suits, perfect teeth, polished speeches... and the loyalty of a holey sock. Even when they're with the woman of their dreams, they mess up just to inflate their golden amoeba ego."
She took a deep breath, still listening to the conversation.
Victória was already commenting on rumors that the Mass family was trying to buy the loyalty of the press and hide the case under a new billion-dollar project in Dubai.
Nikoly suggested the fiancée should publish everything, just to see "the Mass family melt in the hot sun of social media."
Lumine, with her calm tone, just commented. "She doesn't need to expose anything. Just let everyone know she knows. The fear of the scandal will be the perfect leash."
Luna smiled inside.
These women...
So rich, so influential...
But at that moment, she felt at home.
As if, despite the hard past, she was among equals.
Not by bank accounts, but by how they read the world — and didn't let it consume them.
The side entrance lights of the club softened for a moment.
Luna blinked. Looked around discreetly.
And then, the side door opened.
A tall blonde man, in a tailored suit and trained smile, entered with two discreet bodyguards.
He looked around, as if searching for something.
Or someone.
Luna calmly swirled her glass and thought: "Look who's here... the bastard arrived."
She rested her elbows on the table, fingers intertwined, looking with studied boredom at the void, until, with an almost imperceptible movement, she raised a finger and attracted the attention of the other three.
Victória, Nikoly, and Lumine followed her with their eyes.
And there they saw.
Vincent Mass.
Heir of the Mass International hotel empire.
Tailored suit.
Manual smile.
Luna raised an eyebrow, smiling sideways, and whispered. "The golden peacock has arrived."
Victória held her glass near her lips, but her eyes laughed for her.
Nikoly rolled her eyes with the subtlety of a sharp blade.
Lumine crossed her legs gracefully and murmured. "Hypocrite number #143 in 2025. Updated with recent scandal."
Vincent spotted the quartet.
Stopped.
A microsecond of hesitation in his eyes.
Then, assumed the pose.
Walked toward the table.
When he arrived, he gave that crooked little smile and bowed slightly. "Good evening, ladies. The beauty gathered at this table is violating at least three international laws. I hope you're not plotting anything dangerous..."
Victória answered before the others could fire back. "We're only plotting global domination. One glass at a time."
Nikoly took a sip.
Lumine didn't reply, just smiled elegantly — which, in that circle, meant "I don't need to pretend I like you."
Luna, for her part, remained silent.
Just watched him like someone evaluating a counterfeit item in an expensive display case.
Vincent, of course, tried to keep the charm. "Miss Lancaster, long time no see at a social event. Should I consider this a gift?"
Victória replied with the same soapy tone. "Or a warning."
Luna bit lightly on the glass straw, holding back laughter.
Nikoly whispered to Lumine. "He thinks he's charming."
Lumine answered without moving her lips. "It's cute, in a pathetic way."
Vincent then tried the classic move: He got a little closer to Victória, leaning as if to tell a secret.
"If you allow me... there is a private room back there. I wanted to talk with you, in private. Just a few minutes. Matters of mutual interest."
The entire table froze for half a second.
But instead of tension, came a spark of pure amusement.
Luna tilted her face toward Victória, whispering conspiratorially. "Go with him, friend. Take the chance to ask if the suite still has sheets with someone else's DNA."
Victória almost choked on her drink, laughing.
Nikoly raised her glass as if making a toast. "At least he's consistent. Always trying to book something."
Lumine calmly added. "Maybe he thinks the word 'private' cures public scandals."
Vincent, without completely losing the smile, tried to look relaxed. But the tension in his jaw was visible. "I see the humor remains sharp."
Luna finally spoke. "Oh, dear. With your reputation, humor is the least we need to survive."
The three friends laughed.
Vincent raised his hands as if surrendering. "I got the message. But my offer is sincere."
Victória leaned back in the chair with a serene smile. "Sincerity... is a dangerous word, Vincent. You should use it less. You'll end up contradicting yourself with the hotel's images."
He didn't answer.
Just smiled, now with a touch of hidden irritation, and gave a final nod. "Have a good night, ladies."
And left.
As soon as he disappeared from sight, the table exploded into laughter.
Luna breathed deeply, fanning herself with the cloth napkin. "My God, he really thought he was going to catch one of you with that beauty salon flyer charm."
Nikoly blinked. "He must have worn the same perfume since boarding school."
Lumine simply concluded. "Lacks class. And sense."
Victória raised her glass and said, toasting tone, "To the scoundrels who try. And to the women who have already figured them out before the first syllable."
They all toasted.