Chapter 2 Coming Camille The spoiled brat

Camille, the spoiled brat

The world class Valentine's Foundation Affair was the sort of occasion where the most extravagant of the rich accumulated - to give as well as to parade their fortunes. It was held at the Luxury Royale Lodging, a seven-star high rise that overflowed overabundance in each corner. Gold-plated stylistic layout, light fixtures imported from Italy, and a list if people to attend that included big names, oil magnates, and tech tycoons - all wearing creator marks that cost more than the vast majority's yearly pay rates.

Camille Moreau made her entry like a goddess diving. She was the sort of lady who could order consideration without talking a solitary word. The girl of French business big shot Jean-Luc Moreau, she had everything - magnificence, riches, and a mentality more keen than a precious stone studded knife.

Her dark red outfit, made by a Parisian planner known to sew just five dresses each year, embraced her body in the appropriate spots. The ruby accessory around her neck? A custom Cartier piece that could purchase a whole structure. As she strolled, the fragrance of extravagance scent dragged along her, a mix of jasmine, sandalwood, and unashamed self-importance.

She didn't come for the foundation.

She came for the diversion.

"Inconvenience in a Dress"

Dante bumped Xavier as Camille ventured further into the assembly hall.

"Brother, see that... inconvenience in a dress."

Xavier, consistently the mindful onlooker, took a taste of his bourbon, concentrating on her with gentle interest.

"She's stunning, yet she shouts 'show' well in advance."

Sadly for them, inconvenience had great ears.

Camille, hearing their discussion, sneered and walked over with the certainty of a sovereign tending to her subjects. She nonchalantly flipped her honey-light hair north of one shoulder, her green eyes shimmering with underhandedness.

"I love men who discuss me," she murmured. "It saves me the pressure of presenting myself."

Dante, ever the tease, smiled.

"Then, at that point, you'll adore me, darling. I do a great deal of talking."

Camille shifted her head, as though surveying whether he merited her time.

"Gee. Talkers are engaging, however can you back it up?"

Xavier, currently burnt out on this game, moaned and put his beverage down. He had no persistence for ruined beneficiaries who thought the world rotated around them. Without a word, he turned and strolled toward the bar.

In any case, Camille wasn't finished.

Her lips twisted into a shrewd grin as she looked at Dante.

"Your companion could do without me," she considered.

Dante grinned. "He could do without a many individuals."

"What's more, you?" she tested. "Do you like me?"

Dante inclined in marginally, his voice low and prodding.

"I like risk. What's more, you, Camille? You seem to be the sort of lady who could demolish a man's life and make him say much obliged."

She laughed, obviously partaking in the consideration.

"How about we see which of you can intrigue me the most." She raised an eyebrow. "Game on, young men?"

Dante's Amazing Motion

Dante's eyes shined with entertainment. He cherished a test, and Camille was a test enclosed by creator silk.

"Okay, darling. You need a show? Watch this."

Without a second thought, he stepped toward the bar, where a long queue of visitors were holding on to arrange drinks. Some were top chiefs, others were old-cash socialites, all watching the barkeeps cautiously blend overrated mixed drinks.

Dante saw no point in holding up in line. All things being equal, he snapped his fingers at the head barkeep, sliding his dark Amex Centurion card across the counter.

"Anything they're drinking," he reported uproariously, "it's on me. For everybody."

A flood of mumbles and invigorated murmurs spread through the group.

"You serious?" the barkeep asked, squinting.

Dante grinned. "Do I seem to be a man who kids about cash?"

The barkeep swiped the card, and very much like that, Dante Kingston purchased drinks for each and every visitor at the function.

Cheers emitted. Ladies chuckled, men raised their glasses, and abruptly, Dante was the ruler of the night.

Camille's eyes shimmered with entertainment.

"Great," she conceded. "An exemplary rich man's turn. In any case, tossing cash around isn't all that matters."

Dante grinned. "It is the point at which you have enough of it."

Xavier's Unforeseen Move

In the mean time, Xavier had settled at a calm corner of the room, tasting his bourbon and seeing from a good ways. Dissimilar to Dante, he didn't put stock in amazing, showy showcases.

Camille, inquisitive, walked over and rested up against the bar next to him.

"So," she pondered, "would you say you are excessively great to play my little game?"

Xavier turned his look to her, his demeanor disjointed.

"I simply don't mess around I can't win," he answered without a hitch.

Camille sneered. "Things being what they are, you concede Dante is winning?"

Xavier took a sluggish taste of his beverage prior to answering.

"Relies upon what the award is. On the off chance that it's simply intriguing you, he can have it."

She raised an eyebrow, interested. "Furthermore, in the event that the award is a greater thing?"

Xavier at long last taken a gander at her, his puncturing blue eyes locking onto hers.

"Then I don't squander my energy winning over somebody who hasn't demonstrated they're worth the effort."

Interestingly that evening, Camille was surprised.

She was utilized to men falling over themselves to satisfy her, to outshine each other for her consideration. Yet, Xavier? He didn't appear to mind. Furthermore, that, more than Dante's fantastic signals, made him unexpectedly extremely intriguing.

The Night Takes a Wind

Similarly as the pressure between them fabricated, the sound of gem glasses breaking swirled all around. A tipsy very rich person had coincidentally found a server, sending a whole plate of champagne woodwinds colliding with the marble floor.

Dante and Xavier both turned, immediately on alert.

The room became quiet. Everyone's attention was on the scene unfurling before them.

The server, a young fellow in his twenties, anxiously apologized, his face becoming red from humiliation.

The alcoholic extremely rich person, a financial exchange head honcho, jeered. "Do you try and know who I'm? Do you have any idea how much those beverages cost?"

Dante's jaw fixed.

Xavier's appearance obscured.

Before both of them could mediate, Camille accomplished something startling.

She ventured forward, her voice cold and sharp as glass.

"You ought to be humiliated," she expressed, scowling at the very rich person. "Not him."

The group mumbled. The alcoholic man squinted in disarray.

"A genuine world class doesn't embarrass individuals to feel strong," Camille proceeded. "That is simply despicable."

Dante raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Xavier, interestingly, provided Camille with a sprinkle of endorsement.

Perhaps she wasn't simply a ruined whelp all things considered.

The night wasn't finished, and the game had quite recently started.

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To Be Proceeded...

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