Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

Claire’s POV

After having a really nice chat with the surprisingly polite and friendly gentleman that Dennis was, I dug into my Croque monsieur which actually just tasted like a regular ham and cheese sandwich, seasoned with butter and some sort of cream. And it tasted so much better than I’d ever thought it would. ‘Why would they give a simple sandwich such a fancy name ?’, I thought to myself. The French were weird people.

After everyone was done and we were just about to order the second course, Azriel interrupted us just as the waiter came to note down our orders. I quirked up a brow at him in amusement as ‘Gabby’ and Dennis looked at him quizzically.

Fine! I gave the woman a very silly name because she herself was incredibly silly. So sue me if you will!

“How about we go clubbing tonight? It’s been so long since I had a proper drink at a real bar.” Azriel chirpily said, making me turn even more suspicious.

From when did he start acting so bubbly? Was he up to something?

“You had a drink just a couple of hours ago at the parlor.” Dennis said in a matter-of-factly way, surprise evident on his face from Azriel’s sudden suggestion to go ‘clubbing’.

But I had to admit, I was just a little bit excited about the idea. Obviously, I had been to clubs but they didn’t deserve to be called ‘clubs’. Accompanied by a couple of junkies and drunkards roaming around an abandoned building didn’t exactly count as clubbing now, did it? Fine! I admit it. I’ve never been to a club. Because obviously, I didn’t have the richest parents.

The irony of me going to a high-class club and in Paris no less when my family couldn’t even afford a trip to Disneyland wasn’t lost on me. The unwelcome thought of my stepmother pops up into my head but I immediately push it aside. Only the Lord knows how mad she must be at me right now.

“That’s a great idea. It’ll be good to get on the dance floor again, have a couple of drinks, and party till next morning!” Gabriella squealed like a damn teenager who was about to have a drink for the very first time.

“Although, Claire, are you even old enough to drink?” She petulantly mocked me but I couldn’t care less what she thought of me.

“Oh! It’s such a pity that you won’t even be allowed into the club.” She continued, trying to get a rise out of me but I’d trained to have a perfect poker face for moments like this. But it was kind of hard to be poker-faced when all I wanted was to rip her stupid, blonde hair out.

“Are you old enough?” Dennis hesitantly asked me, leaving me dumbfounded. What the hell was I supposed to say? I didn’t know what the age limit was. It could be 18 here in France or maybe 21 because some clubs only let in 21-year-olds…….

“She’s old enough.” Azriel intervened, much to my relief. I looked to him, silently appreciating his help but he just brushed it off. What more did I even expect from him?

“Which club are we even gonna go to?” Dennis asked Azriel as he paid the waiter, giving him quite a hefty tip, making me scowl at him disapprovingly. But obviously, if he could afford to spend 10 million dollars on a virgin, he could obviously afford to tip waiters exorbitantly.

Mr. Clarke and Dennis debated on which club to go to as Gabriella and I walked out of the restaurant, She didn’t initiate a conversation and I was very thankful for that.

But one thing that kept nagging at the back of my head was Mr. Clarke’s change in attitude. He was being a bit too cool….like much cooler than normal. I had a gut feeling that it was the silence before a very loud storm. But that could just be my mind exaggerating things like it usually did.

Once we were at the exit of the restaurant, Dennis’s driver brought out his shiny, black Mercedes and we drove away into the bustling, bright streets of the dreamy city of Paris which I’d always dreamed of going to.

I thought I would be ecstatic once I was here. I thought dining in expensive restaurants, driving in sports cars, and wearing fancy dresses could make me swim in ecstasy. I mean I was happy but not the kind of happy that I thought I would be.

I wasn’t dumb like that, I knew money couldn’t buy happiness but I was wrong to even think that it could make me feel more satisfied with myself.

I guess I’m yet to know what could truly make me feel happy.

The car ride had me floating in the air on a pink, fluffy cloud. The only difference being that the very comfortable cloud was actually the leather seat of the very luxurious car I was seated in. The millions of little and big lights that lit up the narrow streets of Paris made it all seem like a dream and I actually felt like I was floating. Paris really was a beautiful place.

Lost in my own reverie, I hadn’t noticed the visible tension in the car. Gabriella kept reverting her gaze from Dennis as she picked at her heavily painted nails. Azriel was just as always, indifferent.

For once, I chose to be indifferent too instead of overthinking it in my head. I kind of understood now why Mr. Clarke always acted cold and indifferent. It’s just easier that way.

But the tension was starting to suffocate me, I nearly m****d in relief when we started nearing the club. I could tell by the loud music I kept hearing which just kept getting louder. Once the car stopped, Dennis helped me out of the car before Azriel could make a move. I tried to assess his reaction but again I couldn’t really tell because his stony mask was back in place, his cold exterior showing even more now in his ever so handsome face.

Why is it that the most handsome men are always so mysterious? Couldn’t they just come with a guide or something? Something like, ‘How to win my heart’ type of manual. That would’ve been so convenient.

“Woah!” I couldn’t help but exclaim at the sight of the magnificent club which was as big as a goddamn mansion.

“It’s even more spectacular from the inside.” He said when he noticed me staring ahead in awe. Grinning at Dennis, I walked with him to the entrance where people were being granted entrance. The giant headboard at the top of the entrance of the club said in neon blue lights ‘Kanelite Club’.

The queues of people were endless. How would we ever get inside? I despairingly thought. I won’t get the experience of a nightclub now after all.

“I know what you’re thinking.” I heard Azriel softly say to me, his breath on my neck. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that he’d been standing right behind me.

Taking my hand, he led me to the other entrance with Gabriella and Dennis right behind us. The other entrance was also crowded by queues of people waiting to be let in but there was another section just next to the one the common people were getting in through. It was guarded by 3 heavily built 6 feet tall army-like men dressed in all-black suits. It was obvious they were there to smash the faces of people who tried to act smart. A person would have to be dumb as a duck to risk getting beaten up by those guys just to get into a club.

To my utter surprise, they immediately unpinned the red ribbon barring the way to the interiority of the club when they saw us approaching. Or in more clear words, Azriel approaching. I still hadn’t realized what kind of power and authority he had over people.

The more power he showed, the curiouser I got to know more about what he did as his day job. I mean, what do billionaires do anyway? Okay…… I googled him, what’s the big deal.

“Not bad, huh?” Dennis teased me, taking a seat beside me at the bar. It’d been about half an hour since we arrived. And Dennis had fortunately decided to stay by my side or I would’ve been too overwhelmed by the crowd to enjoy myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I really thrive in crowds and usually like to be in the limelight but extremely posh people have a way of making commoners like me feel down without them even doing anything about it.

“Not bad?” I exaggerated my surprise a bit, just to entertain him because he was really trying hard to make me feel comfortable here in this loud atmosphere. “It’s amazing here,” I truthfully told him, adjusting my position on the circular seat I was sitting on. Many such seats lined the bar as multiple bartenders served their customers.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

The club was magnificent, towering in both size and splendor. The dance floor was located right in the midst of it all whilst bars serving all types of cocktails and drinks occupied its right and left sides.

The stairs at the ends of the dance floor led up to a dark-themed living room kind of place with sofas spread out everywhere. There weren’t any ladies up there so I guessed it was where the men socialized to make connections and conduct business.

The sparkly, disco lights weren’t as fun as I’d thought them to be in my imagination. They were actually kind of irritating, to be honest.

“Your wife seems to be having a lot of fun.” I joked as I sipped on my ice-cold Margherita. It stung at first but after persevering through the bitter taste, it actually tasted kind of nice, slightly sour but nice. The cool liquid as it flowed down my throat cooled my heated body to no ends.

“I’ve never seen a girl as young as you drink like that. Most just spit it out their first time, some can’t swallow it down even if they’re trying to down it for the umpteenth time.” Dennis commented, impressed by me.

I gave him a small smile, watching Gabby from the corner of my eyes who seemed to be putting on her moves on the dance floor and she had plenty of perverted eyes on her. I wasn’t surprised that she wasn’t bothered by the attention she was getting. I knew she was always needy for male attention and would go to any extent to have it.

Dennis orders another round of shots for us just as I down another drink. I nod along to everything he says, not really listening but watching Gabriella. A random guy starts grinding against her from behind. Instead of shoving him aside like I expected her to, she appreciates the attention she’s getting and starts grinding against him too.

It actually didn’t surprise me. Men cheated on their wives and so did the wives. The thing peculiar about Dennis and Gabby was that Dennis seemed to be okay with his wife practically dirty dancing with another man right in front of him. She could’ve at least tried to keep her affairs private.

Dennis refused to acknowledge his wife though. I considered pointing her out on the dance floor to him but then thought the better of it. Their marriage was none of my concern.

“Tell me Claire, how did an innocent young girl like you end up with Azriel Clarke, the richest entrepreneur in the states and the most desirable bachelor in the U.S.A.” Dennis caught me off guard. I was actually waiting for him to ask me that, I’m actually quite surprised he waited this long to ask me.