It was a Sunday night, the city bustled with crowds and fireworks did their magic when shot into the sky. A black Ferrari cruised to the front of a building whose whole structure shimmered with neon light.
The car did not only park, but also grabbed attention. Ladies in crop tops, short skirts, blonde hair, much to Kieran's taste, turned his way when he stepped out of the Ferrari with his black-suited gallant bodyguard.
Kieran came to the public not as a businessman trillionaire today, but as a new money guy. He wore baggy jean knickers. A slightly oversized shirt over an inner round neck. Guys look hotter in loose-fitting dresses, to begin with.
And Kieran wasn't just believing that if he couldn't prove it. Because almost immediately, a lady approached him at a slow, practiced pace, her golden-sparkling crop top one thing that most drew her to him.
She sluggishly stopped before him, a gentle smile playing over her thin pink lipstick and a persuasive stare lurking in her eyes. She chewed gum so carefully that anyone would feel the urge to draw closer, to hold those lips up and bash them. And Kieran wasn't so immune to the seduction... He inched closer and held her chin up, with her lips just a heartbeat from his.
The lady breathed shakily before pulling a smile that seemed a confident one, though shaky as well. "Are you famous?" she whispered in a tone that grips the heart with pleasure, with a need to succumb to a call.
Kieran asked, his tone deep, searching for his reflection in her eyes.... The lady could feel something, something like desire, sprouting inside her in a way she just want to hold this man closer....
"Can you scream?"
The lady smiled with a sharp breath, drew closer and put her lips over Kieran's. His were soft, like a yellow papaya. His lip balms smelled nice, too. And hers? On average of the tons Kieran had kissed.
"Yes, daddy," she replied, exhaling sharply at the end. "Now.... what? Wanna smell my punani?"
Kieran smirked, brought her lips towards his again, that she had already submitted to him. To be controlled and ride to craziness. But before the lips met, Kieran turned her face aside and walked past her.
He walked with his hands in his pockets to the club entrance. The lady didn't have malice or resentment in her eyes when she looked back at Kieran. No. Instead, it was a warm smile of accomplishment as she raised the white business card that this handsome guy had scribbled into her hand when he held her close.
"I can call you Daddy," she whispered before returning to the corner she was in earlier.
Kieran stopped before the two tall guys by the entrance. They were the club rats, there to stop people in formal clothes or police uniforms from entering the club. The thing was just to enter sexily and return home sexily.
In the meantime, Kieran's bodyguard stepped closer to hand over the Ferrari's key, after which he left. One of the club rats asked in a gentle, careful tone:
"Ex-excuse me," and Kieran looked his way. The man bent a bit towards him, as though revealing a top-notch secret. "Have you.... been on the internet before? I mean.... it's like... I have seen you before...." But then, he pointed at Kieran as realisation kicked in, covering his own mouth.
The guy was about to talk when Kieran said, "Shush... keep it down, dude."
The man drew closer to the other one and whispered, "He's that trillionaire, Mr Holland!"
The other one looked between Kieran and his colleague, breathing sharply and smiling at the same time. Then, in a moment, both of them bowed.
"Nice to meet you, sir!"
Kieran chuckled, for a moment making sure he had everyone's attention now. Not much to his surprise, some were snapping and looking at his Ferrari, while others were already looking his way. Most importantly, his new hoe.
He looked back at the guys, drew out two notes from his pocket, and slammed them into their hands one after the other.
"Get yourself some drinks," was all he said before walking into the club.
The guys looked at the notes to widen their mouths in shock. One of them held up the money, screaming aloud...
"Oh my fucking luck! It's a fucking ten thousand dollars!"
The lady from earlier heard that, looked at her two friends in the eyes and smiled with something in her eyes.
When Kieran entered, it dawned on him that those club rats had already pulled a call to inform their manager about his visit. Because the moment he reached the end of the neon-walled passage, the middle-aged woman met him with a bow. He had always known her, since he frequents this club... but which club manager notices a random night crawler?
"Nice to meet you, Mr Holland," the woman greeted amidst the deafening loudspeaker jazz music. She rose from her bow and asked Kieran, "What would you like from our club tonight, sir? I can provide you with a VIP room where you get drinks and girls at your service. Or even so, we can close the club just for you..."
She stopped realising that the gentleman wasn't looking her way at all. Instead, he was looking into the crowd dancing on the open floor.
"Mr Holland?" she called gently.
Kieran looked back at her slowly. He asked before she could say anything else, "Are the girls sleeping with men voluntarily... or is it taken as a job?"
"Pardon?"
Kieran chose not to elaborate. He just stepped closer to her, bent to her level and whispered into her ear. "Don't use girls as a business. That's what a jerk does."
And he walked away. The woman chuckled with a rise in self-worth afterwards, over and over again as she turned back to see Kieran walking into the crowd.
"... That arrogant brat!" she muttered under her breath. She thought he was man enough, and now, judging her work? Only a jerk says that.
An impotent "money is all I have" jerk!
Kieran was here for one final thing. Not to get numbers or sleep with women. But to prove his last theory right. With a smile on his face, he paced towards someone—an unlucky drunkard amidst the crowd. Not shaking his damned butts to the jazz or screaming his lungs like a typical drunkard... but placing his filthy hands on a woman.
Of course, she was trying to break loose as he brought her close to himself, putting his hand inside her clothes. That was harassment - get girls the proper way, not touching them like they're sex toys.
Kieran weaved through the crowd in a moment, took one last step closer to the man and seized his arm right away. The lady broke loose from him, but now, the man was the one who can't break loose from Kieran.
Kieran twisted his bones, driving an aggravated cry from the man with frequent "Ah-ah-ah!"
Kieran chuckled. "I see... you're another ugly Satan. No wonder you can't approach a girl like a human, but like an animal."
The jazz stopped in a moment, and everyone turned their way with murmurs. They drew back, leaving the two men in the spotlight.
The man growled as he pushed back with full force and drew Kieran stumbling backwards. He winced as he rubbed his arm in pain....
The man cursed, "Argh.... you fucking son of a bitch!" Then he turned backwards and said, "Get him down, boys!"
The third way to appear super rich - show people you not only have money, but also human morals. Then, you've passed the test of a wealthy man.