The Heiress Spoiled by Four Brothers and One Devilish CEO-Chapter 127 This Place Will Be Under My Name
The dazzling neon lights lit up the whole night sky, swallowing even the stars above.
Outside the upscale club "Siren’s Call", a crowd buzzed with life— it was the go-to paradise for the city’s rich party crowd.
There’s an old saying in the capital: "For fun, head to Siren’s Call; for business, go to Prestige."
Though the place drew plenty of guests, it still couldn’t compete with Prestige’s polished environment tailored for proper business dealings.
A sleek black Maybach pulled up to the front, and Cameron, who had been waiting, quickly moved to open the car door.
Tristan stepped out smoothly and walked straight toward the entrance.
As soon as that custom-plated Maybach showed up, it attracted its fair share of attention.
And now, spotting the man himself striding in— well, that turned every head outside.
"Wait... was that Tristan ?"
"OMG, he looks even hotter in person! What the hell is he doing here?"
"Didn’t he get married already?"
"Please, he’s a guy. You know how that goes. No man can resist a bit of side hustle. The thrill’s in the chase."
"Isn’t his wife Lila Moore? Guess even the best catch can get cheated on."
"I wonder if there’s a shot for me tonight."
"Same. Just one night would be enough."
Tristan barely spared them a glance— just walked straight in.
Cameron caught up behind him. "Sir, Jonathan Midgley’s waiting in Room 212."
Next to the elevator, couples were making out like the world was ending tomorrow.
Tristan didn’t even bother with the lift. He took the stairs instead, stepping onto the second-floor hallway that oozed debauchery.
Scenes down the corridor were no less wild, but his eyes didn’t stray. He headed directly to Room 212.
Cameron stepped ahead and pushed open the door first— a wave of thick smoke rolled out like fog.
Fanning it away, he held the door for Tristan to enter.
Inside, Jonathan lounged on the sofa with a woman on each arm. His hands were busy roaming— not one bit subtle.
"Well, look who’s here— Mr. Reid himself!" Jonathan gave the ladies a pat. The two beauties reluctantly got up, lingering glances still tossed Tristan’s way as they walked out.
Now, it was just Tristan, Cameron, Jonathan, and four of Jonathan’s bodyguards.
Jonathan stood, reaching out to shake hands.
Tristan ignored the offer, gave a faint chuckle, and lowered himself into a single-seater sofa.
Jonathan gave a knowing smirk and sat across from him, picking up a cigar from the table, giving it a tap before lighting it.
He took a long drag. "Didn’t think you’d drop by my place tonight, Mr. Reid. What brings you here?"
Tristan’s lips quirked up. "Between four and five this afternoon, Cloud Robinson took three girls with him from here."
"Yeah, just your usual hookup thing," Jonathan joked. "Don’t tell me one of those girls caught your eye?"
Tristan’s expression stayed flat. "He needed a full hour just to choose? What did he do with the rest of his time?"
Jonathan clenched his cigar between his teeth, making a show of innocence with a shrug. "Surprise, surprise— the cameras were ’coincidentally’ down. No idea what he got up to. Maybe found someone hot and went a few rounds in a private room."
"Jonathan." Tristan leaned back in his seat, legs crossed, his tone calm but sharp. "You know what I’m really asking."
Jonathan laughed it off. "Hey, how would I know? I’m not a mind reader."
Seeing that the man still wouldn’t budge, Tristan’s smirk returned, more dangerous this time. "Seems like you’ve made enough money for a retirement plan."Jonathan’s laughter cut off abruptly when he caught the flicker of anger in Tristan’s eyes. "Mr. Reid, you and I have always minded our own business. Prestige is doing way better than Siren’s Call anyway. I really don’t know what you’re after, but whatever I do know, I’ll tell you."
"Who did Cloud Robinson meet with here at your club? And who gave the order to wipe the surveillance footage?"
"Mr. Reid, you’re putting me in a tough spot. I honestly have no idea," Jonathan said, snuffing out his cigar in the ashtray. The arrogance from earlier had vanished completely.
Tristan swept a look around the room, chuckling softly. "Jonathan, starting tomorrow, this place will be under my name."
With that, he stood to leave.
Jonathan shot his bodyguards a look, and four men instantly moved in to block Tristan and Cameron, each pointing a gun their way.
"Sorry, Mr. Reid. But since things are like this, neither of you are leaving. The cameras are down tonight—if two men vanish from here, no one’ll be the wiser."
Just as he finished speaking, the door slammed open.
"Freeze! Drop your weapons!" Ryan burst in with a group of officers. "Arrest them all!"
Jonathan’s expression froze in disbelief. He hadn’t expected Tristan to call the cops. "Captain Mitchell, come on, we’re just horsing around. We’re good citizens."
Ryan strode over and shoved Jonathan against the wall to search him. "Someone tipped us off—you’ve got DP in the basement. Turns out there’s also a stash of weapons. Quite the jackpot today."
"There’s no basement in Siren’s Call! You’ve been misled!"
Moments later, a young officer rushed in, excitement all over his face. "Captain, we found a hidden door in the kitchen—it leads underground. There’re several rooms down there packed with heroin."
Ryan shot Tristan a sharp glance. "Mr. Reid, are you picking a fight with me on purpose?"
Tristan let out a cold laugh. "You? You’re not even qualified to be my enemy."
He leaned closer and said, "If you played it clean, no one would’ve gotten anything on you. Even if you don’t confess who Cloud met, I’ll find out. And the dirty money you’ve been hoarding in the city? Time to cough it up. People like you always dig their own graves."
Hearing that, Jonathan’s face changed. "Tristan, you planned this from the start?"
"You’re not that bright, huh?" Tristan sneered, then addressed Ryan again. "Captain Mitchell, this guy’s tied to the Empire Tower shooting this afternoon. Make sure to interrogate him thoroughly."
"You’re full of it! None of this is true..."
Tristan adjusted his coat and left with Cameron.
They drove straight to the stylish Verve Hotel, owned by Robinson Group.
Half an hour later, their car pulled up to the side of the hotel.
"Boss, Cloud’s been in there for a while now. Nothing unusual so far," Cameron said.
Tristan toyed with a silver flip lighter between his fingers, like he was quietly waiting for something.
His coat pocket buzzed. He pulled out his phone, answered, and a soft smile curled on his lips. "Hey, Megan."
"Babe, I broke into the Verve Hotel’s surveillance system. I saw a guy in a black hoodie carrying a big suitcase entering Cloud’s room. He’s been in there ten minutes and hasn’t come out."
Tristan tapped the back of the driver’s seat with his foot. "Call the police. Say there’s a murder in Cloud’s room."
Cameron nodded and made the call.
"Wait, how are you sure it’s a murder?" Megan gasped.
Tristan looked up at the moon, half-lit and half-hidden, and smiled faintly. "Just a hunch."
"Wait—he just came out! That suitcase looks super heavy!"
