This also makes more people flock to Embers Nightclub, even the lowest-tier dining hall seats require advance reservations.
Compared to those exclusive parking spots, Kotaisky’s luxury car worth over 400,000 euros seems a bit lackluster.
Kotaisky is used to it. He disregards the luxury cars that outshine his in every aspect. After the driver opens the car door, he steps out with Gloria.
He doesn’t forget to boast about his last experience.
"Let me tell you, it was all thanks to me fighting and covering that the paramedic managed to get us away from the scavengers. At that time, I had a broken hand and foot, practically crippled."
"Mm-hmm, babe, you’re the best."
No matter how she feels inside, at least Kotaisky’s lover enthusiastically agrees.
"If I were caught by the scavengers, would you come and save me?"
"Of course, I’d even hire Adam Hammer to flatten the scavenger’s lair to get you out."
"You’re so good to me~~"
Their conversation is enough to make people feel overly sentimental, but the car attendants and hosts here are unfazed, lowering their eyelids as if they’ve heard nothing, leading the two to the elevator.
As the elevator door is about to close, a woman’s hand precisely intrudes at this moment, grabbing the door.
"Please wait a moment."
Kotaisky frowned, somewhat annoyed by the interrupter breaking their private space, and not only did one person enter when the door opened, but two.
The leading woman politely apologized to Kotaisky, although her accent was odd, not like a local.
Seeing the polite manner of the other party, Kotaisky said nothing, simply moved to one side with Gloria to make space.
However, from the moment they entered, those two women incessantly chatted, using Russian, making Kotaisky frown slightly. Did they assume he couldn’t understand?
Sorry, his grandfather’s generation was Soviet, so even without a translation app, he could barely understand some.
"As long as we settle Gregory, and have him hand over his shares obediently, we can become the largest shareholder, owning over sixty percent of the shares, bringing us a step closer to controlling the board."
"What about the other directors and shareholders? Would they agree? And what if Gregory doesn’t comply?"
"They’d better agree, whether they want to or not. If he doesn’t comply, we’ll find a way to deal with Gregory, make an example, there are always solutions to share issues, with money, with guns, whatever it takes."
"Then we must act fast, not giving them any time to react..."
These two women... treat this place like they’re in a coming-of-life nightclub?
Or perhaps it’s typical Soviet behavior, always acting rashly.
Kotaisky internally mocks, but luckily the elevator quickly arrives at the second-floor restaurant, and an increasingly impatient Kotaisky immediately exits with his lover; the two women didn’t follow, allowing him to slightly relax after the last attack incident.
After all, this is Embers Nightclub, security here is on par with those in Company Square buildings; nobody dares to cause trouble here.
The elevator stops on the fourth floor, the two Soviet women step out, one turns and asks via a secret channel.
"How should I know, just a name made-up, as long as the meaning gets through."
The pair heads to their reserved seats in the central corridor. The second to fifth floors of Embers Nightclub have a void-like structure, seats by the corridor edge easily allow observation of the lower floors.
One picks up the menu on the table and flips it open.
"Tsk... A glass of water costs one hundred euros, life here is truly lavish, what a high society."
She randomly ordered a few items, and the bill soared to seven thousand.
The seated woman rolls her eyes, "Knowing it’s expensive, why did you order so much?"
She crossed her legs and looked at the seated woman, "It’s your man paying, not me, why would I worry?"
"Moreover, I haven’t had a proper meal for two years, of course, I want to eat well, you’re not angry, are you, Svetlana Ivanova?"
"Eat, eat, eat, eat yourself to death."
"Tsk tsk tsk.... You’re angry, huh, I’m speaking for you here. I’ve long told you, men can’t be trusted. Now he’s in front of you, in the future, you’ll be sold by him and still count his money."
The seated woman couldn’t care less, pulling a piece of chocolate from her pocket, unwrapping it, tossing it into her mouth, eyes fixed on the second floor.
Dressed in finery today, Gloria sweeps away her usual slovenliness, appearing exceptionally elegant.
Gone is the industrious look without her work uniform, lightly applied makeup graces her face; she can’t recall when she last wore makeup.
The black evening gown accentuates her red hair, like a red lotus flowing downstream in a river of nighttime, the scattered gold flakes on the skirt create an illusion of stars mirrored in the water.
Perhaps the age of cybernetic implants has changed people’s aesthetics, delicate skin and features no longer captivate them; they’ve turned to seeking peculiarity.