Chapter 822

Chapter 822:

? ? ? ? ?

The harsh lights from outside illuminated Amilia's battered face, revealing a disturbing scene of injuries: a swollen cheek, raw scratches on her neck, dark bruises on her arms, and disheveled hair framing her face like a tragic halo. He looked like he had just come out of a fierce battle.

Indeed, Amilia had done it. She had just endured a tough confrontation with her supposed friend, Felice. Felice claimed to have witnessed Mitchel handing Amilia a business card, but Amilia vehemently denied it.

Not convinced, Felice took action, slapping Amilia twice, demanding the card.

However, Amilia stood her ground, clinging to the card like a lifeline. It represented his only chance to ascend to the upper strata of society.

Despite their supposed friendship, Felice had always treated Amilia with contempt, a constant reminder of their disparate origins.

Thanks to her contacts and resources, Felice was able to get an invitation to the exclusive Kingbel Club, a world that Amilia longed to join.

Amilia acted as an intermediary, obtaining the contact details of eligible men for Felice. Only when Felice deemed the prospects unsuitable did they reach out to Amilia.

Why would Amilia follow Felice's orders when she had the opportunity to advance? At the time, she held a membership to the esteemed Kingbel Club. Armed with this credential, she could henceforth mingle effortlessly with the privileged. Felice, lacking such membership, could no longer be considered his equal.

After their confrontation, Amilia soon informed the club management of Felice's fraudulent entry.

The security guards then detained Felice, captured her image, and escorted her out. The decision was final.

Felice would be permanently banned from Club Kingbel and all its associated venues.

A feeling of satisfaction enveloped Amilia as she remembered Felice's contorted expression, the echoes of her curses lingering in her mind.

«Look at this. All of this is a result of you. "I just had a terrible argument with my best friend." Amilia buried her face in her hands, assuming the role of innocent victim.

Mitchel ignored Amilia, advancing steadily without a single glance back.

Amilia's eyes stopped on Mitchel's broad silhouette, her heart beating in her chest like a distant war drum. This meeting marked her first conversation with such a striking man, and the peculiar intimacy of their evening left her determined to seize this moment at any cost.

"Wait..." Amilia shouted, in a flirtatious voice, running after Mitchel. Her plan to feign intoxication and link arms with him was derailed by his impatient evasiveness.

“Don't chase me,” Mitchel replied, a stoic mask on his face. However, beneath her lay a latent irritation.

Amilia's eyes lit up crimson and her body trembled as she murmured, "Can you take me wherever you go...?"

Mitchel ignored her, his stern expression betraying irritation at her plea. "Are you incapable of understanding simple speech?" he replied coldly.

Amilia stood paralyzed, her face a mess of confusion and pain, and her eyes filled with tears, ready to cascade down her cheeks.

In the dimly lit room a few moments ago, Amilia assumed that Mitchel had wrapped her in his embrace.

Knowing the club's routine well, Amilia had strategically placed herself near Mitchel, never anticipating that she would be involved in a hug. When the lights suddenly turned on, she was roughly pushed back, coming face to face with Mitchel. Instinctively, she had mistaken the person hugging her for Mitchel himself.

Amilia struggled to understand Mitchel's sudden change in attitude towards her. How could things change so drastically in such a short time?

While Mitchel walked away with heavy steps, Amilia remained rooted to the spot, afraid of provoking his displeasure and unable to follow him.

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