Chapter 237: Side Piece?

Chapter 237: Chapter 237: Side Piece?

The ambient pulse of the club roared on below the mezzanine, but inside the semi-circular leather booth, two distinct worlds had formed. On the right, Noah and Leon were loudly entertaining four laughing girls, popping champagne and boasting about speculative market plays.

In the middle sat Jake, swirling the dark single malt in his glass. Beside him, Magdalene remained perched on the outermost inch of the leather seat, rigid as a statue, staring at her untouched glass of iced tea as if it might detonate.

Jake turned his head slightly, taking in her posture. He could practically feel the waves of anxiety radiating off her.

"The tea isn’t poisoned," Jake noted casually, his voice dropping into a smooth, low register that easily cut through the surrounding bass. "It’s just peach tea."

Magdalene flinched at the sound of his voice, her fingers tightening around the hem of her beige dress until her knuckles turned white. She swallowed hard, darting a quick, cautious glance at his side profile before looking back down.

"I-I know," she murmured, her voice barely audible over a heavy drop in the DJ’s track. "Thank you, Mr. Rivers."

"Jake is fine," he said, leaning back and resting one arm along the plush leather behind her—not touching her, but creating an invisible shield between her and the chaotic energy of the rest of the table. "And you don’t have to sit on the very edge like you’re preparing to dive off a cliff. There’s plenty of space."

Magdalene shifted slightly, moving maybe an inch backward, her heart pounding violently against her ribs.

’He’s being too nice,’ she reminded herself frantically, her mother’s stern warnings echoing in her mind. ’Men like him don’t just ’save’ girls at a club out of the goodness of their hearts. He’s setting a trap. He’s building comfort so I don’t run away when he decides to drag me back to his penthouse.’

"So, why did you even agree to let your friends drag you out here?" Jake asked, taking a small sip of his scotch. "You clearly don’t look like someone who spends her Wednesday nights at a night club."

Magdalene bit her lip, looking down at her hands. "It’s... it’s actually my birthday today. I turned twenty-one. My roommates said we were just going out for a quiet drink to celebrate. I didn’t know they were planning to come here... let alone geting into a VIP booth."

"Quiet drinks don’t exist at the Vault," Jake said mildly. "What are you studying?"

"Finance and statistics at State University," she blurted out, her voice stabilizing just a fraction as the topic shifted away from the club. "I just started my final year."

"A finance major dragged into a room full of equity sharks," Jake mused. "No wonder you look like you’re waiting for a hostile takeover."

Magdalene let out a tiny, involuntary laugh before quickly clapping her hand over her mouth. Peeking at him again, she noticed he looked completely unbothered by the wild party happening five feet away.

’Wait a minute...’ Magdalene thought, watching the relaxed line of his jaw. ’There’s never been a single shady scandal leaked about Jake Rivers in the business news. The media tracks his every financial move, and if he were the type to take advantage of girls in clubs, it would have been plastering front-page tabloids months ago. Maybe... he’s actually safe?’

"What brings you out tonight, though?" Magdalene asked, her curiosity overriding her fear just enough to let her speak. "I’ve heard people say you’re almost never seen out in public like this, let alone at a club. I didn’t expect to meet you the very first time I stepped out."

"We’re here to celebrate a major milestone for Aurelia Capitals," Jake replied, glancing toward Marcus and Adrian. "I couldn’t exactly turn down a celebratory drink with the board. Especially with Leon and Noah insisting."

Even though she had no idea what specific corporate milestone he was referring to, Magdalene gave a genuine, polite nod. "Congratulations on the win."

"Thanks," Jake said smoothly.

She paused, looking down at her hands before looking back up at him. Magdalene then asked softly, the question slipping out before her anxiety could filter it. "Don’t you... have someone waiting for you?"

She instantly regretted asking, but Jake didn’t take offense. His expression remained smooth, a subtle softness touching his eyes for a split second as his thoughts briefly drifted to Catharine at The Zenith.

"I do," Jake answered simply, his tone completely matter-of-fact. "She’s at home, probably scrolling social media."

Magdalene blinked, her mind momentarily grinding to a halt. ’He has a girlfriend? And he just admitted it without trying to hide it or play smooth?’

"Then... why did you call me over?" she asked softly. "Your friends took four girls. You could have had anyone."

"Because those four girls came up here looking for a jackpot," Jake replied calmly, looking straight ahead at the balcony railing. "You came up here because your friends dragged you by the wrist. If I hadn’t pointed at you, you would have spent the rest of the night standing awkwardly in the aisle while people pushed past you."

He reached over, picked up the glass of peach iced tea, and nudged it an inch closer to her hand.

"Relax, I don’t need a side piece, Maggie." Jake said smoothly. "Drink your tea, sit back, and enjoy the air conditioning. Consider it a quiet birthday spot away from the crowd."

A tight knot in her chest slowly unraveled. For the first time all evening, Magdalene let out a long, genuine breath. She reached out, picked up the glass, and took a small sip. "Thank you, Jake."

"Happy birthday," Jake replied smoothly.

Over on the left side of the booth, Marcus set his tablet face down on the table, turning his head toward Adrian. The strobe lights flashed purple across their corner as Marcus took a slow drink.

"Speaking of private collections," Marcus said, his voice easily cutting through the music, "I was talking to my father’s asset manager yesterday. The Pagani Zonda Cinque Coupe that was sitting in a private vault in Monaco just got cleared for import."

Adrian raised an eyebrow, a rare flicker of interest breaking through his cold demeanor. "The Cinque? I thought the owner in Geneva refused to put it on the market."

"He did, until his maritime fund took a hit last month," Marcus replied, a faint smirk appearing on his face. "He’s quietly liquidating three track-focused hypercars. I’m putting in a bid for the Zonda, but I’m still looking for a clean Bugatti EB110 SS."

Marcus then turned his gaze toward the center of the table, looking past Magdalene to Jake. "Jake, are you interested in rare supercars?"

Jake turned his head, leaning back against the leather. "I haven’t actively looked into hypercars lately, but if the machine is right, sure. Why do you ask?"

Before Marcus could answer, Leon practically threw his arms up from the other side of the booth, spilling a splash of champagne onto the ice bucket.

"Because the Apex Heritage private auction is happening next month in Geneva!" Leon called out over the bass. "They’re putting up six ultra-rare homologation specials! The EB110 SS, a McLaren F1 LM spec, and a pristine Ferrari F40 LM are all on the catalog!"

Noah froze mid-sentence with the girl sitting next to him, his mouth agape as he stared at Leon in utter betrayal. He let out a loud, theatrical scream of pain, slapping his forehead.

"Leon! You idiot! Why would you tell him that?!" Noah yelled over the music, clutching his chest in mock agony. "Did your brain completely short-circuit?! Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?!"

Leon blinked, his confident grin faltering as he looked over at Jake. The reality suddenly hit him.

"Wait..." Leon stammered, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at Jake’s calm, unbothered expression. "Jake has... well... he could literally buy every single car on that auction lot, ship them here on a private freighter, and it wouldn’t even put a dent in his wallet..."

Leon swallowed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at Jake. "Jake... you wouldn’t do that to us... right, Jake? You’ll leave at least one for us to bid on?"

Jake let out a low, genuine laugh, shaking his head as he swirled his scotch. "I’ll only take what actually interests me. But if any of you want to engage in a bidding war over a chassis, you’re more than welcome to try."

Noah groaned in dramatic agony, throwing his head back against the leather seat. "A bidding war against Golden Investments?! We’re dead! We’re literally dead! I’m going to end up driving a stock Porsche while Jake buys the entire production line!"

One of the heavily made-up girls sitting on Noah’s lap looked at him in confusion, her brows furrowed. "Noah... is he really that rich? I thought most billionaires’ valuations were tied up in corporate stocks and non-liquid assets? Can someone actually just drop tens of millions of cash on cars at a random auction?"

Leon turned to her with a dry, knowing laugh, pouring himself another shot of scotch. "Sweetheart, Jake Rivers is a completely different kind of rich. Most guys in this city have their net worth locked in paper shares or real estate mortgages."

Leon pointed his thumb toward Jake, who was casually sipping his drink. "This guy over here? He can literally milk the international gold market whenever he’s low on pocket change. When Jake wants liquid cash, he doesn’t call a bank—he just moves market volume."

The girl’s jaw subtly dropped as she looked back over at Jake, who simply offered a faint, unbothered smirk before turning back to his conversation with Marcus and Adrian. Beside him, Magdalene listened to the exchange in quiet awe, taking another slow sip of her peach tea, feeling entirely safe in her corner of the world.

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