C26 Slapping the French Second Rich Generation!

In the heart of the city, the Parisian Nights Club was the place to be when the sun went down. It was as lively and extravagant as the bustling nightlife of New York City. This was the playground for the wealthy, where money flowed freely, and indulgence knew no bounds. As night fell, the place lit up like daylight, with music and dancing creating an intoxicating atmosphere.

Here, the affluent could spend lavishly, regardless of gender. Whatever entertainment you desired, you could find it here—nothing was beyond reach, as long as you had the cash. But don't think you can stroll in with just a few bucks in your pocket, hoping to buy a drink and enjoy the show. You’d be swiftly shown the door by the bouncers.

Spending an evening here started at a hundred dollars, which only got you into the less exclusive areas. If you wanted the full experience, including the attention of the charming staff in their stylish attire, you needed to drop at least a thousand dollars.

Meanwhile, just after 8:00 AM, the club's owner, a Frenchman with genuine aristocratic lineage, was in his suite. He was enjoying the morning with a stunning woman, their passionate encounter playing out on a sturdy, European-style bed.

"Oh, Henry, you're amazing. I could just fall in love with you... oh..."

"Marissa, you little temptress, trying to drain me dry first thing in the morning. Let's see how you handle this..."

On that bed, a scene as old as time itself was unfolding.

Two pale bodies twisted together in excitement, accompanied by breathy moans and the rhythmic creaking of a bed that seemed on the verge of collapse. The scene was nothing short of intense.

Not far from the bed, a figure sat in the shadows. A pair of bright eyes watched intently, a slender hand gripping a sleek black whip. Legs crossed, she sat on a chair, looking quite at ease as she observed the passionate couple on the bed.

Just as the man was about to reach a critical moment, the shadowed figure cleared her throat, her voice cutting through the tension, "Ahem, you two, speed it up. You've got ten seconds. Need me to count for you?"

"1."

"Oh my God, there's someone here!"

"Dear Lord!"

The woman on the bed, called Marissa, was so startled she dug her fingers into the man's shoulders. He was at a crucial point, teetering on the edge, when the unexpected intruder's presence shocked him into a standstill. Stuck in limbo, he felt like he was about to lose it all.

"Are you two done yet?" The clear voice of a young woman echoed again in the awkward atmosphere. With a snap of her fingers, the figure in the shadows playfully twirled the whip in her hand, raising an eyebrow as she spoke, "Henry Louis?"

"You jerk, who are you? If you don't want to die, get out now!" Henry, feeling like he might never recover from this scare, was furious. If he weren't stark naked, he would have jumped out of bed and dealt with the intruder himself. Yes, a real piece of work, and from the sound of it, a female one at that.

Henry had never experienced such humiliation in his life, and it made him so furious he felt like he could explode. He silently cursed his subordinates, wondering where they had disappeared to, allowing someone to sneak into his room unnoticed. To make matters worse, this intruder had the audacity to watch his private moments unfold.

What infuriated Henry the most was that, despite the darkness obscuring the intruder's features, the voice unmistakably belonged to a woman. Damn it, he had been played by a woman.

In his rage, Henry reached under his pillow for the gun he always kept close, a precaution advised by his butler since he arrived in this war-torn region. The gun was his lifeline, even while he slept.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack of a whip against the floor. The whip's end snapped just inches from his hand, which was reaching for the gun. Startled, Henry pulled back, his heart pounding. The precision of the whip's strike left him in no doubt that it could have easily injured him.

He took a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves, and pressed down on his equally frightened companion. Anger and shock filled him as he turned to glare into the darkness. "Who are you? What do you want? Money? I can give you money."

"Money? How much do you have?" A young woman's voice, tinged with a hint of amusement, echoed in the room. But her laughter was so cold that Henry felt a chill run down his spine.

"I have money, lots of it. Name your price, and let us get dressed. Whatever you want, I'll have it sent up," Henry offered, hoping the intruder was indeed after money. Despite not knowing the woman's capabilities, her ability to precisely target his hand with a single whip strike made it clear she was not to be underestimated.

His life is far more valuable than money.

“Oh, you’ll give me as much as I want, really?”

The girl's laughter carried a hint of mischief as she lazily flicked the whip in her hand against the floor.

The sharp sound of the whip dragging on the ground sent shivers down Henry and his companion's spines.

Henry quickly tried to agree, “Of course, just tell me how much you want...”

A clear, cold laugh rang out, echoing with a chill as the whip cracked sharply toward the bed.

“Snap!”

The whip struck Henry’s back with a loud crack, leaving a welt as his companion screamed in fright.

Henry cried out in pain, gasping and cursing, “You crazy woman, don’t you want money?”

“Sure, but too bad I’d rather whip some sense into you, you spoiled brat.”

As the words fell, a playful yet fierce figure emerged from the shadows, standing just a step away from the bed.

Her large, amber eyes sparkled with amusement, yet there was a chilling edge to them.

Like a wicked sprite from the darkness, she exuded an aura of danger, yet was as captivating as a siren.

Henry was about to shout “You jerk!” but was struck silent, his mouth agape in awe at the stunning figure before him, “A wicked angel!”