NovelEnglishChapter 1294:
As the workday drew to a close, Isabella sent Brenna a photo of Mack entering a bar called Above the Clouds,
along with its location.
After work, Brenna had Finley drive her to the place.
The bar exuded sophistication, with soft lighting casting a warm glow. A soulful singer's voice blended with the
low hum of elegant music, while a charismatic bartender deftly crafted drinks.
Brenna, flanked by Libby and Finley, made her way to the bar counter, where a display of premium liquors lined
the shelves, each bottle carrying a price tag far out of reach for an ordinary person.
She glanced at her companions. “What do you want to drink?”
Libby scanned the menu, her eyes widening at the prices—each cocktail cost at least a grand, well beyond her
modest paycheck. Luckily, Brenna was footing the bill. “Something not too expensive is fine,” Libby said, keeping
her tone casual.
Finley, meanwhile, studied the array of bottles, spotting several prestigious labels he had only heard about,
never sampled. But he reminded himself that his job was to keep Brenna safe, not to sip fancy liquor.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“Anything works for me,” he muttered, though his eyes lingered on a bottle of aged rum.
Brenna ordered a rum cocktail, a shot of tequila, and a glass of whiskey.
After that, Finley chose a seat with a clear view of the room, staying vigilant.
Brenna’s attention was already fixed on Mack.
He wore a black shirt, unbuttoned at the top, exposing a broad chest smeared with lipstick, including a smudge
on his neck. Beside him sat a wealthy woman in her fifties, her hands wandering boldly under his shirt as he
poured drinks for her.
“Who would have guessed he would sink this low?” Brenna said, reclining on the booth’s plush couch, legs
crossed, observing Mack with a mix of amusement and disdain.
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Libby sensed Brenna was here to watch the unfold and disliked Mack.
“Should | stir up strouble for him?” Libby asked, half-joking.
Brenna shook her head, her voice cool. “No need. I'm just here to watch him reap what he has sown.”
The woman next to Mack, grinning slyly, pulled a small plastic bag from her purse. “Let's make this fun,” she
said, dropping a blue pill from the bag into his drink.
It fizzed and dissolved rapidly.
“Pauline, isn’t this a bit much for a place like this?” Mack objected, his tone uneasy.
Pauline Watts’ expression soured. “What is this? | pay you generously, and you can’t keepentertained? You
balk at a little something to spice up the night? If you're going to be this difficult, why would | bother with you
again? | picked you for your skills in bed and charm, and I've given you a lot of money, so don’t act
unappreciative now.”
She pushed the drink toward his lips.
Mack hesitated but caved. Earlier, Pauline had slipped him twenty grand, and refusing might mean losing it—or
worse, missing out on more.
“Alright, don’t be upset,” he said, forcing a smile as he gulped the drink. A rush hit him instantly, urging him to
dance, sing, or shed his clothes.
Though the booth’s high backrest partially obscured her view, Brenna’s elevated seat gave her a clear line of
sight of the scene.
Mack, now buzzing with energy, said to Pauline, “Let's hit a private room—I can’t wait any longer.”
Pauline smirked, pleased. “Now that’s more like it. I've got snew toys to try out today. Let's try them one by
one.”
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