Chapter 1

The Magnet Club was a property I acquired when I returned to Dunsborough City.

I needed a high-end venue to host the city's elites.

I never expected the Magnet Club to turn a profit; its purpose was solely for screening.

Only those with a net worth exceeding a billion or possessing significant social status could receive an entry ticket.

Tonight's guest was rather special—Brian Raymond, the official overseeing Dunsborough City's economy.

He didn't drink alcohol, only tea, and not the expensive kind.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, we finalized a project worth over a billion dollars.

When he received a call from the municipal office, I excused myself to leave the private room, not wanting to intrude.

Just then, my assistant approached me. He was tall, handsome, and carried himself with extraordinary poise.

"Ms. Bryson, a second-generation real estate heir has arrived at the downstairs lounge. Would you like to meet him?" Jake asked with a smile.

I glanced at the private room where Brian Raymond was taking his call. After a moment's hesitation, I replied, "Sure, let's see."

After all, Brian's calls typically lasted at least half an hour, and it wouldn't make sense to linger outside the entire time.

As a businesswoman, connecting with leaders from various industries was a given.

If Jake deemed it important enough to notify me, the visitor must have some significance.

I went to the downstairs lounge with a fine bottle of wine and knocked on the door.

"Come in," someone called from inside.

I opened the door and walked in, wearing a polite yet distant smile.

But before I could speak, I froze.

Inside was a group of people I knew well—familiar yet unfamiliar.

The most prominent seat, naturally, belonged to the most influential person present.

Seated there was none other than Nicole Tanner.

Even after ten years, I still couldn't forget the scene of her Bentley terrifying me into collapse, nor her scornful words: "Ha, a poor girl."

And then, I saw him—Justin Wells.

The very man who had once declared that my affection for him was worthless, now seated beside Nicole Tanner with a delicately adorable little girl in his arms.

Five years ago, I had seen Justin Wells once in Capital City.

He had been negotiating a business deal and was being pressured to drink. When he refused, someone slapped him.

I intervened on his behalf, and he said he wanted a drink.

Drunk and unsteady, he told me he could drink himself into oblivion but would never allow anyone to force him to. He said it was a matter of dignity—a boundary.

But hadn't he once claimed he'd rather be toyed with in luxury than accept a worthless love?

So how, in five years, had he suddenly grown a sense of dignity?

I asked him how much his dignity was worth—I would buy it.

He cried but stubbornly wiped his tears away and said it wasn't for sale. He'd give it to me for free.

I told him if he dared to offer, I'd dare to take it.

That night, I took him home. But when I woke up, he was gone.

I had thought about finding him, even pathetically trying to win him back.

But in the end, I gave up.

Later, I left Capital City, assuming he'd continue his life there. I never expected he'd return to Dunsborough City as well.

"Daddy, Tina wants shrimp," the adorable little girl suddenly said.

So, he's married now?

Did he marry Nicole Tanner?

Nicole suddenly said, "Come here, Tina. Mommy will get it for you."

As she spoke, she shot me a provocative look, then turned her gaze to Justin Wells, staring at him intently.

"Old classmate, it's been ten years, hasn't it?"

"I heard you got into the Ivy League back then. How did a few years there turn you into a waitress?"

Nicole Tanner placed some shrimp on the little girl's plate, then looked at me with a face full of mockery. "Almost thirty now, and still just a waitress. Isn't that embarrassing? At least aim to be a manager, won't you?"

After she finished, the room erupted into laughter.

Everyone present, just like ten years ago, instinctively echoed Nicole Tanner.

Their logic was simple: whoever Nicole mocked, they mocked, all to curry favor with her in exchange for benefits.

Back in school, those benefits might have been as trivial as a pack of cigarettes Nicole casually tossed their way.

Now, they might be hoping for a respectable job.

It's all for survival, nothing shameful about it, and I could understand.

Chapter 2

I smiled, placed the bottle of wine on the table, and looked at Nicole. "I'm just here to deliver some wine. Enjoy your evening."

With that, I prepared to leave.

I did consider whether I should reveal my true identity and embarrass this pampered heiress.

But a mature businesswoman values grace and restraint. Such childish and foolish antics were beneath me.

As for Justin Wells, I didn't look at him. It was meaningless.

He was married and had a child now. Why dwell on the past or cling to anything unresolved?

"Bonnie Bryson, Nicole didn't say you could leave," came a voice.

Grant Colson, who was seated near the door, had stood up.

He had always been Nicole's most loyal follower—ten years ago and evidently still today.

Why else would he take the seat by the door? Sitting there made it easier for him to run errands for Nicole.

Nicole also stood up, leaning on the table with both hands. "Bonnie Bryson, it's been ten years. Since you happened to join the reunion, why not stay and catch up?"

"I have work to do," I replied with a faint smile. "I'll work hard and aim to be a manager before I turn thirty."

The room burst into laughter again.

I wasn't sure what they were laughing at.

Was being a floor manager at the Magnet Club really that funny?

Even after deductions for insurance and benefits, the monthly salary was still 20,000, plus a year-end bonus and various allowances. Was a job like that laughable?

I carefully observed their appearances. While they were indeed well-dressed, their clothes were just common brands available in any mall.

The car keys on the table? Mostly mid-range or even budget models.

And yet, their faces were full of smug satisfaction.

Where did their sense of superiority come from?

One of them, Caroline Wade, seemed to notice me glancing at her car keys. She sneered and said, "Bonnie Bryson, don't tell me you don't even have a car? My Ford may have cost just over ten grand, but at least it's got four wheels. Are you still riding an electric bike?"

"Ah, I use shared bikes," I replied honestly.

Since my penthouse was close to the club, I genuinely biked back and forth most of the time.

And then, as expected, the room burst into laughter again.

It seemed like without me, they'd have no one else to ridicule.

After all, they were all Nicole Tanner's sycophants, and mocking each other wouldn't do.

Caroline turned to Justin Wells and said, "Justin, breaking up with her was the smartest decision you ever made. Otherwise, you'd be the one crying on a bike right now."

The laughter erupted once more, especially from Grant Colson, who laughed so hard I could see his molars.

Justin Wells, however, didn't laugh. His face was pale, his expression uneasy, and he avoided looking at me. His gaze darted nervously.

What was he afraid of?

Was he worried I'd mention that night in Capital City?

I wasn't that childish.

Nicole knocked on the table, silencing the laughter. She pointed at me and said, "Bonnie Bryson, stay here. Later, I'll have Assistant Jake talk to someone and get you promoted to floor manager."

When I didn't respond, Nicole smirked. "You probably don't even know who Assistant Jake is, do you? It's normal for a little waitress like you to have no chance of meeting him."

"Even if you did meet him, do you think someone of Assistant Jake's status would bother with you? He's the type even Nicole's father has to treat with respect."

Caroline laughed and added, "Well, who knows? Maybe Assistant Jake might take a liking to her and keep her as a mistress."

"And so what?" Caroline continued, grinning. "Even as a mistress, her status wouldn't be much better than a dog's. At best, she'd be a pet."

I wanted to ask them if I had dug up their ancestors' graves to deserve this treatment, but I really didn't have the time or energy to bicker with them.

Nor did I want them to discover my true identity.

If they knew, they'd undoubtedly swarm me like flies, trying to curry favor. It'd be exhausting.

"Enjoy yourselves. I really have to go. Otherwise, I might lose my job," I said with a smile, preparing to leave once again.

But just then, Grant suddenly shoved me.

Chapter 3

"Bonnie Bryson, do you not know how to appreciate kindness?" he snapped.

"When Nicole Tanner shows you kindness, you kneel and accept it with both hands!"

He pointed his finger at me, his tone aggressive.

I looked at him calmly, then nodded. "Fine. I'll stay. I won't leave."

"That's better," Grant said with a smirk, patting my face with his right hand.

Nicole pointed to a decorative oak barrel in the corner. "No seats left. You can sit there."

Laughter erupted again.

I glanced at them, shook my head, and chuckled at their immaturity.

Then, without a word, I walked over and sat down on the barrel.

Suddenly, Justin Wells stood up. "Enough! Stop this. Bonnie Bryson, just leave!"

Nicole's face darkened as she turned to him. "What? Do you feel sorry for her?"

"I don't. I just don't want to see her!" Justin snapped through gritted teeth, his voice filled with anger, as if he hated me.

He must truly fear that I'd mention that night five years ago in Capital City and ruin his marriage to Nicole.

"You don't have to look at her," Nicole said coldly, a mocking smile on her face. She turned to me and added, "I, on the other hand, enjoy watching her. It's like… watching a circus monkey. I haven't seen a monkey perform in ages."

Grant laughed. "Bonnie Bryson, stop working here. Go work at Nicole's company as a janitor or something. She'd be happy to toss you a few bananas when she's in a good mood."

The room erupted in laughter again.

I replied indifferently, "Forget being a janitor. When I have enough money, I'll just buy Nicole's company. Then I'll be the boss."

Silence. Then another burst of laughter.

Justin didn't laugh. His eyes were red, and he stared at me, as if silently begging me to leave.

"Bonnie Bryson, when you finally have the money, I'll definitely sell my company to you," Nicole Tanner said, laughing.

But then she added, "That said, by the time you have the money, our company will probably be worth even more."

I didn't respond.

Grant Colson, ever the sycophant, chimed in, "Nicole, what do you mean? Does the company have a big new project coming up?"

"Exactly."

"I've heard that the owner of the Magnet Club is a rising star personally invited back to Dunsborough City by our city's top leader. They say he's the kind of person who doesn't take action unless it's for a project worth billions."

"The business scene in Dunsborough City has been stagnating these past few years. Half the latest development zone is still vacant. Rumor has it this person is here to tackle that issue."

"My dad has some connections with the city's top leader. If he can secure a piece of that project, we'll be making a fortune!" Nicole boasted smugly.

The "top leader" she mentioned was, of course, Brian Raymond.

After finishing her spiel, Nicole turned her gaze back to me.

"I still remember how you were almost scared to death by my Bentley back then. I still have that car, you know. Can you drive now? If you can, you can be my chauffeur. I'll even let you drive the Bentley."

"I've only ever driven domestic cars," I replied truthfully.

And then the laughter started again.

Was everything this funny?

Even the comedy shows I attended in Capital City didn't have this many punchlines packed in.

Seeing that I remained calm and unbothered, they seemed a bit frustrated, as if punching cotton—there was no satisfying reaction.

Nicole, in particular, had kept me here to mock me, so she wasn't about to let me off easily.

Pointing at a bottle of whiskey on the table, she said, "Bonnie Bryson, have you ever had the finest whiskey? It's pretty expensive. Today, I'll give you the chance to try it. If you finish this bottle, I'll let you leave."

I didn't drink. Alcohol wasn't good for the brain.

"I don't drink," I replied, shaking my head.

Seeing their relentless behavior, I decided it was time to reveal the truth.

"Nicole Tanner, I'm actually the owner of the Magnet Club. The billion-dollar project you mentioned earlier? I'm the one leading it."

I said it earnestly, but they didn't believe me.

Their expressions were as if they were truly watching a circus monkey.

And then, laughter exploded again.