Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

The Sunset Haven Club buzzed with activity as an elegant soirée was in full swing.

In the gilded hall, smooth jazz floated through the air, setting the sophisticated ambiance that defined high society gatherings. Crystal glasses clinked together as men and women exchanged polite laughter-no one concerned whether the smiles were genuine.

On the second floor, Faris reclined on a leather banquette, clutching a glass. His gaze fixed on the bustling hall below, his solitary figure seeming detached from the festivity surrounding him.

When he reached for the bottle to refill his glass, he discovered it was empty. With a snap of his fingers, a waiter promptly approached.

"Bring more!" Faris's voice betrayed his intoxication.

The waiter hesitated, glancing toward a male assistant standing nearby, discreetly holding up three fingers.

The assistant shrugged helplessly. He was well aware this would be the third bottle, but he knew Faris's temperament all too well. Ever since Faris had returned from a wedding in Starlight City, he had been in a dark mood.

"Fuck, do you want to quit? Who's the boss here me or him?" Faris kicked over an empty bottle in frustration.

The waiter trembled as he rushed to pick up the bottle, then hurriedly fetched another, uncorking it before setting it down.

Faris poured and drank as if consuming water rather than alcohol. He was already drunk, and continuing would only lead to trouble. Yet no one dared intervene.

The assistant anxiously kept glancing toward the staircase.

Soon, a woman with chestnut hair cascading to her waist, dressed in a cream-colored dress, ascended the stairs on slender legs.

The assistant exhaled with relief and hurried to meet her. "Ms. Glover, thank goodness you're here!"

Emily brushed her hair off her shoulder and looked concernedly at Faris drinking alone. "Is he alright?"

"Not at all. He's had far too much to drink."

"I understand. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

She walked toward Faris. In this state, Emily was likely the only person who could approach him safely.

She crouched beside him and gently took his hand. His skin was cold, and the missing pinky finger gave his hand an unusual appearance, but that didn't diminish her admiration to her, he remained the most perfect man in the world.

She cradled his hand between hers, attempting to warm it with her touch.

"What's wrong? Why are you drinking so much? Are you upset about something?" Her voice was soft and gentle.

Faris turned his head, their eyes meeting, and her heart ached. His alcohol-flushed eyes revealed a vulnerability rarely seen in him.

In the next moment, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly without a word.

His embrace was so firm she could barely breathe, yet she didn't resist. Instead, she yielded, gently stroking his back in silent comfort.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, trailing kisses upward until he reached her delicate earlobe.

Her earlobes were thin-people often said those with thin earlobes had difficult lives. But the man before her had once told her that destiny was in one's own hands.

Faris had told her that his success wasn't predetermined by fate but created through his own efforts. She had always admired his courage and determination, believing every word he said.

He caressed her earlobe with his lips, watching as a blush spread across her cheeks, her thin earlobe turning a delicate pink.

"Ms. Glover clearly holds a special place in Mr. Melville's life," one server remarked.

"Indeed. Many women admire Mr. Melville, but he's never this intimate with anyone else," another added.

Nearby, idle servers had begun gossiping about the scene.

"Ms. Glover is beautiful and considerate. It's natural that Mr. Melville would be drawn to her."

"Though I've heard her family situation is quite troubled."

"Gossiping about the boss? Looking to get fired?" The male assistant suddenly appeared behind them.

The servers quickly fell silent, murmuring, "Rafael, we apologize."

"Get back to work," Rafael Grant ordered sharply, and they scattered immediately.

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Faris finally released her, leaning back into the sofa. He lit a cigarette, his intoxicated gaze admiring her earlobe with a slight smile.

He asked softly, "Do you like it?"

She touched her earlobe, discovering something new there.

Taking out a compact mirror from her purse, she saw a pearl earring dangling from her ear-perfectly round, lustrous, clearly of excellent quality.

Emily smiled. "It's beautiful. I love it."

This wasn't the first gift from Faris, and regardless of value, she treasured each one.noveldrama

Faris studied her face through a haze of exhaled smoke. "Emily, do you love the gifts or do you love me?"

Her heart pounding, she answered earnestly, "I love you every different side of you, everything about you."

Six months earlier, Emily had been a hostess at Eclipse Lounge.

Emily had entered this profession out of necessity, but maintained her principles.

Some called her shameless, never bothering to understand her circumstances.

Three days after starting work, she faced persistent advances from clients seeking fresh faces. Her refusals angered customers and earned her a harsh reprimand from the manager.

Leaving the manager's office, Emily sat in the dressing room questioning her decisions. Fellow hostesses openly mocked her, with only Peggy Gibson-who had been in the business two years longer-showing her any kindness.

Peggy had been protecting her behind the scenes, but even she felt compelled to offer practical advice.

She said, "Emily, the men who come here are diverse in their expectations. You can't always avoid them. Don't you need the money? Why not face reality sooner?" Emily understood the logic but couldn't reconcile it with her conscience.

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"Hurry up! VIP Room 808! Look sharp, everyone!" the supervisor suddenly burst into the dressing room.

Room 808 was Eclipse Lounge's most exclusive VIP suite. Clients who booked it were invariably wealthy and influential. Good service there meant generous tips, so everyone excitedly touched up their makeup, sprayed perfume, and adjusted their outfits.

Only Emily remained unenthusiastic, filled with apprehension.

"What are you waiting for? Move!" The supervisor pushed her, causing her to stumble forward with the other women toward Room 808.

The luxurious suite contained several young men. Despite Emily's attempts to remain inconspicuous, she was selected. Perhaps it was precisely her understated presence, lacking heavy makeup and distinct from the other women's demeanor, that piqued these wealthy patrons' curiosity.

The women who weren't chosen glanced hopefully toward a silent man in the corner- he alone hadn't selected anyone.

But he kept his head down, smoking, never once looking at them, seemingly uninterested. Disappointed, they reluctantly left the room.

The chosen hostesses sat beside their respective clients, while Emily remained standing

awkwardly.

The man who had selected her beckoned, and she nervously sat beside him. He immediately put his arm around her, but her body remained rigid in his embrace.

She was afraid.

The man noticed her discomfort and scoffed, "What's wrong? Can't loosen up? How do you expect to please men in this line of work?"

He was displeased with her lack of cooperation. "I'm not paying for you to act like a statue, damn it!"

Emily, afraid to offend a client, poured him a drink and apologized.

The man's anger flared. He grabbed her hair, causing tears to spring to her eyes.

Everyone watched indifferently, including the silent man in the corner, who merely glanced over, seemingly accustomed to such scenes.

Finally, Peggy, unable to watch anymore, knelt before the man, pleading on Emily's behalf.

The man refused to let the matter drop easily, so Peggy turned to Emily instead. "Emily,

just go with Mr. Kim. He's taken a liking to you that's good fortune. He'll treat you well. Stop being stubborn."

When Peggy uttered "Emily," the man in the corner suddenly looked up, his attention now fixed on her.