Rayden Wolfe arrived at a newly opened bar with Rachel and Adam in tow.
The bar was bustling, full of flashing lights, loud music, and a crowd of partygoers letting loose. The energy was infectious—spirits were high, people danced wildly, and laughter filled the air. The grand opening celebration had drawn in all sorts of characters, and Rayden's arrival didn't go unnoticed.
The owner of the bar—a flashy man with unruly hair, gold chains, and a loud personality—approached Rayden and threw a heavy arm over his shoulder from behind.
"Finally, you're here!" he exclaimed. "How many times have I asked you to show up? You've ghosted me every time! You've got some nerve, bro! Where have you been hiding? Don't tell me you've forgotten your own brother. If you don't explain yourself tonight, I swear I'll drown you in drinks and throw you at a bunch of women!"
This rowdy character was Wenxuan He, known more commonly as Wesley He to his close circle. Though his birth name had a more refined flair, Wesley hadn't set foot in school for years and had developed quite a crude way of speaking.
He came from money—old money—and had opened the bar more for personal amusement than profit. He loved to party, chase women, and drink until the morning light. His behavior was loud and chaotic, but beneath that brash exterior, Wesley had a loyal heart.
In Rayden's previous life, when everything had gone downhill and he'd fallen into a mental breakdown, it was Wesley who stood by him. When everyone else abandoned him, Wesley had personally arranged for the best psychiatric care, visited every three days, and never gave up on him.
Because of that, Rayden had supported Wesley's rise in the entertainment world. He'd helped launch Wesley's name into the industry, making him one of his most trusted allies.
Now, Rayden looked helplessly at his friend's gleeful expression and sighed, "I've been busy with love lately. Not much time to party."
Wesley's eyes lit up with disbelief. "Wait, what? You? In love? Since when does Rayden Wolfe settle down? Who's the lucky girl that managed to tie down the Demon Sea's most notorious heartbreaker? Don't tell me it's one of your flings?"
Rayden chuckled and leaned back slightly. "It's Sophie Quinn. You know, the president of Quinn Medical Holdings."
Wesley's jaw dropped. "Sophie Quinn? One of the city's two golden goddesses? The woman every man dreams about? That Sophie Quinn?!"
Rayden nodded.
"Holy crap! Dude, that woman is the definition of elegance. You really hit the jackpot. If the city knew you were dating her, half the male population would cry themselves to sleep!" Wesley laughed heartily, then leaned in with a smirk. "Be honest, have you… you know… sealed the deal yet?"
Rayden gave him a withering glare. "Don't be so vulgar. We're in a romantic relationship. Sweet. Respectful. Beautiful. Don't cheapen it."
Wesley cackled. "Pfft! Don't give me that. Isn't the whole point of dating to eventually hit the sheets?"
Rayden shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. You're too crude to appreciate the art of love."
Wesley took a drag from his cigarette, eyes narrowing as he blew out smoke. "So you're telling me, you're turning over a new leaf?"
Rayden folded his arms. "What's that supposed to mean? I've always been a model citizen!"
Wesley burst into laughter. "Bullshit! You were the one who dragged me into this lifestyle in the first place. And when the fun started turning into trouble, you bailed on me like a coward! You have the nerve to call yourself a good citizen?"
Rayden shrugged. "I'm just saying, I've evolved."
"If you can truly land Sophie Quinn, I swear I'll send you a giant red envelope! That's how confident I am that this is a phase," Wesley smirked.
At that moment, he noticed the two individuals standing quietly beside Rayden.
"And who are these two?" he asked.
Rayden gestured to them. "This is Rachel—my secretary. My father arranged for her to assist me at Wolfe Group. And this guy is Adam, my bodyguard. He's one hell of a fighter. Trustworthy people, both of them."
Wesley grinned and clapped his hands. "Well then, welcome! Any friend of Rayden's is a friend of mine. You guys better come here often!"
He led them to a prime spot in the bar, one of the private lounge booths near the stage with a panoramic view of the performance area. The plush leather couches and gold-rimmed tables screamed luxury.
As they approached, a group of stylish young women—clearly hired models or socialites—spotted Wesley and Rayden and flocked over, their voices sickly sweet.
"Young Master Wolfe! Young Master He! You're finally here!"
Rayden waved them off. "Go flirt with Wesley. I'm not interested."
Wesley laughed, wrapping an arm around one of the girls. "See? This guy doesn't even appreciate beauty anymore. Don't mind him. Come sit with me."
Then he turned to the group and declared with dramatic flair, "Eat, drink, dance, whatever you want! Tonight, everything is on the house!"
Rayden nodded in agreement. "Relax, everyone. Make yourselves comfortable."
Rachel, however, didn't seem at ease. She scanned the area, frowning.
The stench of cigarettes and alcohol clung to Wesley like a cloud, and she didn't want to be too close to the socialites either. They were overly dolled-up, fake-laughing, and clinging like vines, which made her stomach turn.
After evaluating her options, she chose the spot closest to Rayden.
As she sat down, their bodies naturally brushed against each other. Blushing faintly, she murmured, "Don't get the wrong idea. I just don't want to sit near them."
Rayden raised an eyebrow, amused. "Got it. Want a drink?"
Rachel huffed playfully. "At least you have some conscience!"
Rayden chuckled.
Meanwhile, Adam stood behind Rayden like a silent sentinel, arms crossed and alert. His eyes scanned the room for any signs of danger. He was the perfect bodyguard—unshakable and serious.
Wesley noticed and gestured to him. "Dude, lighten up. Don't just stand there like a statue. Come sit! You're safe here—unless you're afraid of my bartenders."
Rayden chimed in, "Adam, relax. Wesley's place is secure. You've been following me around all day. Take a load off and grab a drink."
Adam hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. "Yes, Mr. Wolfe." He took a seat at the edge of the booth, still half in guard mode but willing to unwind slightly.
Drinks were brought in, clinking glasses filled with premium liquor and fruit-infused cocktails. A DJ switched tracks and neon lights pulsed in rhythm as a live band began to perform on stage.
Rachel sipped her drink slowly, avoiding eye contact with the other women, but found herself occasionally glancing at Rayden. Something about this night—his calm demeanor, the way he handled his friends, even the way he ordered drinks for everyone—felt… different.
He wasn't just the heir of a massive corporation or the so-called playboy of Demon Sea.
He seemed real. Present.
She hated that it made her heart skip.
"Stop it," she muttered to herself under her breath.
Rayden turned. "Hmm?"
"Nothing!" she snapped, turning away.
Wesley, now fully engaged in flirting with the models, didn't even notice the subtle tension in the air.
But Adam did.
He watched the interaction between Rachel and Rayden silently. Observant as always, he couldn't help but wonder—
Was it just me, or is this turning into something more than friendship?
For a moment, all three of them—Rayden, Rachel, and Adam—sat together in an unlikely triangle of emotions.
The night had only just begun, and yet, under the dazzling lights and swirling music, something quietly shifted.
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