Chapter 7 No.7

Tracey's POV

What did he just say?!

Did he refer to me as his wife?!

But just as I was about to say something to clarify our relationship, I noticed a very interesting thing -

Jerry Fisher peed himself.

That old fuck was literally so scared that he peed himself.

I enjoyed this so much that I couldn't possibly tell him that I was Lucas' ex-wife.

Jerry Fisher got on his knees and begged, "I'm utterly sorry, Mr. Plarre! I really don't know that Miss Stewart... I mean, Mrs. Plarre is your wife! I would never dare to touch your wife, Sir... I've been working for you all these years but I have never known that you got married! If I had known..."

"Shut the fuck up," Lucas said in a cold, intimidating voice.

Jerry Fisher said in a trembling voice, "Sir! I beg you! I would do everything that Mrs. Plarre asks me to do! Please give me a chance to..."

I immediately put the contract and a pen in front of his face and said, "Sign this right now! On pages 4, 6, and 9!"

"Yes! Yes! I will sign it right now!" He picked up the pen and struggled to scrabble his name on it with trembling hands.

I grabbed my skirt from the floor and tried to put it on, but it was torn.

"And you need to pay for my skirt!" I hissed at Jerry Fisher.

"Yes! Yes! I will write a check to you right now!" He took out his checkbook and asked, "How much money should I pay for..."

His voice faded because he noticed that Lucas was staring at him.

"Your skirt looks very expensive, Mrs. Plarre... So I guess I owe you 50 grand..."

Lucas dry coughed.

Jerry immediately changed his figure, "60 grand!"

Lucas still stared at him.

"70 grand... 80...85?"

Lucas got impatient and said, "What the fuck are you doing? Are you bidding for something?!"

Jerry Fisher wiped the blood and sweat off his forehead and said, "No! I mean, 100 grand, Sir! I saw a skirt that just looked like this one the other day and I was trying to recall its price..."

"Are you sure it's 100 grand?" Lucas frowned and asked him.

Desperately, Jerry mumbled, "Sir, I'm too old and I'm not good at figures and that sort of thing..."

As he was speaking, he wrote down a string of figures on the check and added another zero when Lucas raised an eyebrow.

Then, he tore it down and handed it to me with both his hands.

He said in a shallow voice, "I'm sincerely sorry, Mrs. Plarre. I wouldn't expect this humble check would set off what I've done, but please do accept this as my apology. If there's anything you need me to do, please do let me know!"

I put the check and the signed contract in my purse and walked out of the lounge.

Everyone was looking at me because I was wearing nothing between my underwear and Lucas' jacket.

I ignored them and I just wanted to get out of this fucking place.

But at that time, I heard a familiar voice.

"Mine, mine! Look at who's here."

Oh, that fucking high-pitched voice. I rolled my eyes and thought to myself.

Jessica Waddingham, surrounded by her minions, stood right in front of me.

I wanted to push her aside and walk off, but she blocked my way.

She finally caught me at my lowest and she just wouldn't let me go on this one that easily.

"What happened to you? Did you try to hook up with someone's husband by giving him a lap dance? Did you get caught by his wife or girlfriend? Is that why you're fleeing the scene in a panic like this? Did you remember to get paid or you're doing it for free?" Jessica raised her voice to shoot out a string of questions, trying to humiliate me in front of everyone.

People joined her laughter.

They looked at me as if I was wearing nothing.

Just when I was about to shift into a Catwoman and fight back, someone grabbed my arm.

I looked back and saw it was Lucas.

"Tracey, come with me," he said. He couldn't take his eyes off me.

I took a glance at him and threw his hand away.

Jessica looked shocked and asked, "What?! Lucas?! Why are you here? Where's your jacket? Wait... Is Tracey...wearing your jacket?!"

Lucas ignored her questions and said to me, "Tracey, please don't make a scene like this. I need to talk to you."

Jessica couldn't hold it anymore and grabbed my arm. She barked at my face, "What did you do with my boyfriend?!"

I rolled my eyes at her and said, "As you've just said, I'm a slut. So what else can I do with your boyfriend in a VIP lounge?"

Then, I took off my jacket and put it back on Lucas.

As I was about to walk off like a champ, Lucas grabbed me back into his arms and wrapped me in his jacket.

"Where do you think you're going?" He lowered his head and whispered in my ear.

At that very moment, the club played the song I met him for the first time - a remix version of "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps".

Thousands of emotions were evoked in my heart.

I tried to push him away. But every time I broke away from him, he pulled me back.

It was almost like we were dancing... Just like the first time we met.

I didn't want to play this sick game with him, but then I noticed the look on Jessica's face.

She was like a ripe tomato that was about to explode.

Then, I thought to myself, "My job was done. I've got nothing to do tonight. So what the heck?"

So, I started to press myself against Lucas and started dancing with him.

For a brief moment, I was back to college. It was just one of those crazy, crazy school nights when the night was still young.

When both Lucas and I were still young.

We were just two stupid college kids, hanging out with each other and having fun.

Jessica tried to call Lucas, but her voice was smothered by the loud music in the club.

People swarmed to the dance floor and joined us. She tried to push people aside and got closer to us, but all her attempts failed.

Eventually, she stomped her feet and walked away just to spare herself from this humiliation.

While we were dancing, I suddenly felt a burning sensation in my groin.

It felt like thousands of hands tickling me at the same time.

I was overwhelmed by this feeling.

And then, I started to feel the world around me started to spin.

My vision was getting blurred.

The last thing in my head was -

I really shouldn't have drunk that fucking red wine. It tastes like cum because Jerry Fisher had drugged it.