Billionaire’s Mistress

Leanna’s point of view

I raised my eyes to the magnificent nightclub. It was, without a doubt, the finest club in all of City Y, a veritable paradise for the well-to-do. Having just brought the cheapest T-shirt and pants, I felt really out of place.

The guard at the front desk has been frowning at me the whole time I’ve been here. I ducked my head in discomfort. Elma, the roommate next to me, pulled my arm and said, “Don’t be nervous. Don’t stare at them.”

I can’t help but feel a little anxious. I’m not just anxious; I’m also embarrassed. I can’t afford this club. I want to make some deals while I’m here.

A bar occupies the ground floor of the clubhouse, while Elma informed me that the second floor houses a senior private room on par with the presidential suite. I know Elma has a sugar daddy, and she told me frankly. Perhaps it is because we have a common experience.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

It’s a noisy, chaotic, and generally unpleasant environment at the bar, with people dancing and chatting in every direction.

I really don’t like this environment, but Elma seems to be used to it.

I got some juice, and she got some wine. Her gaze wandered when her glass was refilled. After a while, she patted me on the shoulder and said, “just sit here and don’t go anywhere. I’ll come to you later.”

Grasping her wrist, I began to question her. “Why are you going?”

“I’ll see if I can find out whether there’s a good man for you.”

“No, you can’t be that reckless by yourself.”

She smiled at me. “It’s really a joke. When you get to the bar, you’ll be in my place. You’ve never been to the bar,. Listen, before I come back, don’t pay attention to any man who comes to seduce you. Remember?”

I was still somewhat anxious, and I kept my gaze fixed on her constantly.

Elma found a table with three men. She made some sort of remark to them before taking a seat next to them.

They raised a glass to each other and started talking.

Elma consumed three glasses of wine throughout their conversation, which lasted fifteen minutes.

Elma then stood up and went out into the hall.

I quickly put down the cup and followed.

Elma asked me, “Why did you come here?”

“I worry about you.”

” Don’t worry. Go back. I’ve had too much beer. I’ll go to the bathroom. I’ll tell you about my harvest later and wait for me for three minutes.”

I took the juice back to the bar and guzzled it down.

I’m getting a headache from the music.

I glanced at the wall clock. The time was 7:33.

It was already 7:40 and Elma still hadn’t emerged.

I was worried about her, so I got up again and walked to the bathroom.

I rounded the corner into the hallway just in time to hear Elma exclaim, “if you don’t let go, I will deal with you.”

I looked forward and saw a man in his thirties, who was shaking after drinking, holding Elma’s wrist tightly.

“Tell me how much you want for the night since I have lots and lots of money.”

A young woman in her twenties stood next to her. She looked extremely made up and wore a one-piece miniskirt in the manner of a bodice. She snapped at Elma, “Auntie, you are really elderly and our boss adores you, you should appreciate.”

Elma scowled at her and said, “Are you sick?” “Get him away from me quickly, or you will see.”

The girl remained completely still. The man was trying to take Elma into his arms when I stepped forward, elevated my foot, and kicked the elderly man in the stomach.

I used a lot of force.

The man threw himself on the floor and said, “which… it’s a tiny beauty again.”

He staggered to his feet, shuffled up to me, and brought up his hand as if to touch my face.

Taking Elma outside, I collapsed on the club’s front steps and began to pant.

I apologize to Elma for making a mess and putting her in the middle of everything.

“It’s all right. He’s drunk and may not remember us.” Elma said.

A phone rang suddenly. When I called, Elma answered the phone with a scowl and told me, “He’s back. I’m going to see him now. Why don’t you go back first? I’ll bring you back some other day.”

I told her, “You go first, and I will take the car back later,” trying to calm myself down.

I know Elma is not easy. She and I are just roommates. I can’t always drag her down.

Looking at her far back, I stood up, looked behind at the magnificent club and prepared to turn around and leave. The mobile phone rings at this time, it is the call from the hospital. I calmed myself down and hit the call button.

Almost in a daze, I pick up the phone and answer it. My sister will cease getting her medication if I don’t pay the cost.

I know that the clubhouse behind me is my only chance, and also the only chance for my sister to survive.

I went back to the club with my fists clenched tight.

As I walked in, I noticed the man I’d kicked stomping angrily my way.

I shut my eyes, expecting to be smacked, but nothing happened. As I raised my eyes, I was met with a courageous visage.

He not only assisted me, but also took on the role of “sugar daddy” to me. It’s the usual hero who comes to the rescue of the beautiful girl, but unlike the hero of the TV show, the one who rescues me only wants to find a good, fair partner in bed.

He never said to end this relationship.

We were sharing a bed and engaging in sexually intimate behavior, yet neither of us felt anything for the other.

Clothes were thrown on the floor of the presidential suite at the clubhouse.

He cornered me with my back  and shoved me up against the wall. With one hand, he stroked my nipple and, with the other, he gradually slipped it into my vagina. When he moved, it was very softly. He twisted my head around, stuck his tongue inside, and jiggled around in there. His soft lips were a delight, and his lower body motions matched them well. After he was done, I felt as if a soft stick had been wrapped around my vagina, and my entire body had gone numb. He stroked my nipple aggressively and sped up the beat as if to melt me.

I let out a low sigh. There was an orgasmic outburst from him.

The bathroom was making that dripping noise again.

Feeling downcast, I stayed in bed and stared morosely at the door to the bathroom.

The door to the bathroom opened with a “crash,” and a burly guy emerged, reeking of shower gel.

He picked up the garments that had fallen to the floor, proceeded to the mirror, and methodically clothed himself without ever looking in my direction.

I leaned down and said, “Sir…” as I stared at the man’s broad, powerful back.

He said softly, “Hmm,” without looking back.

My sister’s medical procedure cost was enough to make me decide that the next time I won’t do it.

His small lips curved down as his tie hand halted momentarily.

A crisp and emotionless “ok” came from his mouth.

He reached over and buttoned up the suit jacket  “Take the medicine.”

Involuntarily, I glanced over to the bedside table where the contraceptives had been set up for me.

I’m used to this arrangement.

Every time after I will take the medicine obediently. I never need him to remind me, and he rarely mentions it deliberately.

It shocked me that after I said farewell to him today, he immediately started talking about it.

On second thinking, though, I felt a sense of relief.

Probably because he thinks we won’t cross paths again and because he’s afraid I’ll have a baby with him without telling anybody. Come to him again in the future.

After all, there is no one who does not want to have a relationship with him, even if it is a little bit.

I looked up and wanted to tell him that I would take medicine obediently. I didn’t need him to worry, but I found that he had left the bedroom and disappeared in my sight.