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He Scolds Me for Being a Golddigger
He Scolds Me for Being a Golddigger
Author: 6 Cents Catnip

Chapter 1 Spotted at Drunken Moonlight

Author: 6 Cents Catnip
last update Last Updated: 2024-11-27 10:19:18
I thought I was hallucinating from exhaustion when I spotted Gerald Peterson at the bar.

I narrowed my eyes and stared at him for a long while.

The bar manager was impatiently calling out to me.

There were a lot of customers at the bar today, so the work was even more intense than before.

The boxes of alcohol were heavy as I hurriedly moved them from the storage to the bar.

The hustle and bustle made me forget about the earlier distraction.

It was only when the final box of alcohol was placed down that I began to wonder if I actually saw Gerald in the bar.

At the center of the bar were beautiful young dancers singing and dancing along to the music, hyping up the customers. The flashing lights made them mesmerizing while cutting me off from them, acting as a divider between our worlds.

"Wendy, do you want to check upstairs?"

I was currently crouching behind the bar as I took a break and stared down at my phone's screen that was displaying the last message Gerald sent.

'Babe, I have a company event tonight. I won't be back for dinner.'

I thumped my back with a fist. It was aching from the many boxes of alcohol I had to move.

I shook my head and replied to my coworker, "No, that's not my scene."

"Huh? Aren't you strapped for cash? There. That girl went up, and she got a watch in just one trip." My coworker pointed.

"It's an expensive watch worth over a million from Vacheron Constantin. Heh. Mr. Peterson is so generous. He tipped Cissy several thousand in the past."

Cissy?

I knew of her. She was a young and beautiful university student who often spoke of a man she called "Mr. Peterson". Her eyes always shone bright whenever she did so.

They were filled with admiration and adoration.

Back then, I did not think much of it. There were plenty of people with the same surname. How could that man be Gerald? My coworker had planned to leave soon after I rejected her offer.

I hurriedly grabbed the hem of her skirt.

"I-Is Mr. Peterson's full name Gerald Peterson?" I asked.

"Wendy, how did you know his full name?"

Her response had my ears ringing from the mind-numbing shock.

My phone lit up once more with a message from Gerald.

'Babe, my head hurts.

'I want to drink your hangover stew.'

I recalled the cut of bone-in meat stored in the break room that I had bought the moment I found out Gerald had a company event that evening.

After work, I had to instantly start boiling the cut of meat and bone for an hour before straining out the bone. Then, I would put in some lentils before bringing the stew down to a simmer for around 40 minutes until the lentils were so soft that they practically melted in the mouth.

Gerald adored it.

Every time he got drunk, he would cajole me into making the stew for him.

While it took a lot of effort, I did as requested every time.

Thus, I bought everything I needed for the stew before he even asked.

I stood up from behind the bar and tidied my hair as I looked at my coworker.

"Can I head up there with you?"

The entirety of the second floor was reserved for VIP rooms. It was much quieter and more intimate.

As we walked around a corner, we found a couple making out.

My manager was absolutely unfazed and, as I was still new, just shot me a look in a silent warning for me not to offend our guests.

I hung my head low. My nails were biting deep into my palms, leaving behind crescent-shaped indents.

The room was dimly lit. Female staff of all shapes and sizes were lined up in a row. Some of the guests preferred ladies with slim waists, while others preferred fuller curves.

I deliberately hid behind the group to peek at the guests through the gaps between the women.

The man sitting in the center of the room opened up a bottle of wine. I knew of that wine. Every bottle was sold at 100,000.

He was dressed in a luxurious suit. While my view of his handsome face was unclear, his striking features were undeniably familiar.

It was Gerald.

My boyfriend, Gerald.

Someone nearby teasingly suggested, "Mr. Peterson, the ladies here are all new. Choose one."

Gerald looked up and briefly glanced at the line of ladies.

I trembled as I was afraid of being noticed. So, I took a step back, terrified I would get caught, until my back was plastered against the door. My racing heart told me just how uneasy I was.

"Doesn't he already have a girlfriend?"

The woman named Cissy was sitting beside him. Dimples appeared on her cheeks as she smiled at him while love shone in her eyes.

Despite her words, she continued to lean in close to him.

Gerald did not react at all to her. He did not even try to shy away.

"Gerald is used to luxuries. A simple woman is merely a change of pace. Anyway, how is she his girlfriend? It's just a bet. Right, Gerald? Don't tell me you've actually fallen for her."

Gerald silently stared at the speaker before his lips spread in a smirk. "Fall for her? How can it be possible?

"I'll dump her when it's time. Even a simple woman can lose her charm. Anyway, you might not know it, but she's not simple at all. In fact, I can only describe her as tough yet sickening. She's tiresome."

His last word echoed through my mind.

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me. The sweat on my back turned freezing upon meeting the cool air of the room, leaving me shivering.

We've dated for over a year. Yet, all he could say to describe me was "tiresome".

Beyond the crowd, he was the epitome of unmatched elegance and charm.

Meanwhile, I was dressed in a sweat-soaked staff shirt. My shoes were cheap goods bought from a random stall by the street. The only accessory I wore was a watch.

It was a birthday present from Gerald.

It was worth around a hundred.

The strap itself had already turned yellow with age and sweat, yet I refused to take it off.

That was because it was the first gift I had ever gotten.

It was precious to me.

However, what did it mean to Gerald?

A half-hearted attempt to give me some attention.

No, it could not even be counted as attention.

Perhaps it was pity?

He pitied me for being an orphan who needed to hustle and save up for my own tuition fees and living expenses while attempting to repay my debt from my mother's treatments.

Therefore, he graciously demeaned himself to be by my side...

After that?

He told me he was poor. He had me work hard to feed and shelter him.

This room was lavish.

However, it only felt suffocating to me.

I made my escape after briefly speaking to the manager.

No one noticed me, as every other woman in the room was more striking than I was.

I had just descended the stairs when I was called off to move more boxes.

The customers kept coming.

When the entire bar finally quieted down, and I had time to wipe down the bar with a rag, the elevator doors opened.

The group of men and women stumbled out.

Gerald was being supported by Cissy.

He was over six feet tall. Nonetheless, he was leaning his entire weight on Cissy's petite figure of five feet. Cissy let out a cry of surprise and swiftly beckoned me over when she spotted me.

"Help me!"

I put the rag aside and walked over.

I was approaching Gerald with an ulterior motive in mind.

He was drunk.

His cheeks were flushed.

Still, he exuded an air of sophistication.

Gerald looked up at me. Then, he narrowed his eyes, likely out of disbelief.

Alas, the look on his face grew even more unpleasant as I got closer.

"Shoot! Why do you stink?"

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