Chapter 82:
Elyse remembered seeing him before when she accompanied Jeffry. His presence brought her a sense of relief.
She exhaled softly and offered a small smile. “No, he’s tied up with work.”
The man grinned. “Why are you just standing here? Come on, let’s head up and have a good time.”
Lowering her gaze, Elyse put on a look of quiet distress. “The receptionist doesn’t recognize me.”
With an amused chuckle, the man waved dismissively. “That’s no issue at all. I’ll vouch for you. Listen up—this is Miss Elyse Harper, a member of the Harper family.”
His own status as a club member lent credibility to his words. Predictably, the receptionist trusted him over Elena.
“But… this lady also insists she’s related to Mr. Harper. Are there two daughters in the Harper family?” The receptionist frowned, clearly bewildered.
“Never heard of that,” the man responded with a puzzled expression.
Elena’s homecoming celebration had been an exclusive affair, with only the city’s most influential families in attendance.
The man’s family, though wealthy, was new money—an entirely different social circle from the Harpers.
He had no idea who Elena was.
But when his eyes landed on her, his expression shifted. “Wow, where did you come from, gorgeous? Want inside? Just call me honey, and I’ll get you in,” he said with a flirtatious grin.
Elena’s stare turned ice-cold.
For a brief moment, he hesitated.
There was something about her… familiar, yet just out of reach.
He shrugged it off.
Meanwhile, the receptionist had already dismissed Elena as an imposter.
With a firm tone, she said, “Miss, if you can’t verify your connection to Mr. Harper, I must ask you to leave at once.”
A quick call to Jeffry would clear this up, but Elena assumed he was occupied with business. She could handle this herself.
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The man persisted, laughing. “Come on, sweetheart, like I said—call me honey, and I’ll take you in. No need to keep pretending.”
His companions chuckled, adding crude remarks of their own.
“This is priceless! I’ve never seen someone try to sneak into Imperial Club like this.”
“She’s probably hunting for a rich guy. Not bad-looking—I might just take her up on it.”
“Why struggle? Just name your price, darling. I’ve got the cash.”
Their shameless stares raked over Elena, their words full of mockery.
A sleek black card landed on the marble counter.
Elena’s voice was cold and steady. “Here’s my membership.”
The receptionist’s eyes went wide, her posture instantly shifting from dismissive to deferential. “You’re… a black card holder?”
The realization sent a ripple of silence through the group. Imperial Club had only a handful of black card members worldwide.
.
.
.