World Domination Begins With Getting a System in a Modern World-Chapter 153: James Zolomon Doesn’t Forget

The drive through the Bel-Air Country Club’s front gate felt different this morning.

James sat behind the wheel of Patty’s Range Rover, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel as they passed the security checkpoint and glided down the beautifully maintained lane.

Patty and Leslie both leaned slightly toward the windows, quietly admiring the sheer beauty of the grounds.

They saw the towering palm trees that frames either side of the entry lane, and lush green expanses unfolded beyond, punctuated by sculpted hedges, coupled with the ornate fountains and the elegant white gazebos.

"Wow," Patty murmured.

Leslie let out a soft laugh, her face lit up with awe.

"This place is like something out of a movie."

James smiled to himself as he pulled into a neatly lined parking space near the main courtyard.

They stepped out into the bright morning sun. Patty wore a soft peach golf dress and a white visor, the simple outfit emphasizing her natural elegance.

Leslie, meanwhile, wore a light blue athletic skirt paired with a crisp sleeveless polo, her hair tied back into a sleek ponytail. Both looked effortlessly stunning, and it was even better as they didn’t put on any make-up.

James slung his golf bag over one shoulder and took the lead, guiding them toward the range where the Family Golf event was already underway.

As they walked down the paved paths, James began to notice something that made his smile tighten slightly.

The glances.

At first, he thought he was imagining it — a few looks thrown their way. Natural curiosity, perhaps. But as they moved closer to the main gathering, it became impossible to ignore.

Young men, boys from member families — most around James’ age or younger — stealing long, lingering looks at Patty and Leslie.

Especially Leslie.

Their stares weren’t casual. They weren’t even the harmless admiration that one might expect at a country club filled with beautiful people. If it was that, he wouldn’t mind and it would actually make him proud.

No! These gazes were hungry, lecherous, and entirely unhidden.

James’ jaw tightened when he saw this.

He wasn’t naïve. He understood that beautiful women would draw attention. But there was a difference between admiration and the kind of predatory sizing up he saw now.

Without breaking stride, James shifted slightly, positioning himself a little closer between Leslie and the most blatant of the onlookers.

When one of the bolder boys — a sharp-jawed teenager with slicked-back hair — let his gaze travel shamelessly over Leslie’s legs, James shot him a glare cold enough to freeze the summer morning air.

The boy smirked back arrogantly but eventually looked away when he realized James wasn’t backing down.

But the young men weren’t the only ones that James noticed, as he saw a few older men — ones old enough to know better — also gave glances that made his blood boil.

One man, wearing a navy blazer and a club badge on his chest, let his eyes linger a beat too long on Patty as they passed.

James saw this and burned the man’s face into his memory.

He knew he couldn’t act on it even if he wanted to. At least not yet, as none of them had crossed any formal line. They hadn’t spoken, touched, or done anything outright disrespectful.

But that didn’t mean James would forget. He never does.

In this world, power was the only real currency. And if he ever got the chance, he would make them pay for their insolence in ways they wouldn’t even see coming.

As the saying went: The wealth of a weak man, and the beauty of a weak woman, are magnets for disaster.

But James wasn’t weak. And the women beside him would never be left vulnerable so long as he had breath in his lungs.

He smiled faintly to himself — but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was a cold, malicious grin, the kind that hinted at the revenge already being written in the back of his mind.

Shaking off the tension, James turned back to his companions. Patty and Leslie were still chatting quietly, oblivious to the vultures around them, and he would love to keep it that way.

He wouldn’t let today be spoiled. Especially not by a few bottom-feeders.

They reached the practice range, where dozens of families were already gathered. Folding chairs lined the grassy edges, and a few instructors moved among the players offering tips.

James set his bag down and pulled out three beginner clubs he had arranged for beforehand.

"Alright. Time for your first lesson," he said, grinning genuinely now.

"Just don’t expect me to hit the ball on the first try," Patty chuckled, holding the club awkwardly.

"Hehehe. James, the golf coach," Leslie teased, causing James to laugh.

James spent the next hour teaching them the basics — grip, stance, swing technique. He was aware that Patty and Leslie aren’t like him who wants to seriously learn how to play golf, and so, he lightly passed on everything Mr Donovan has taught him during the week.

The air was filled with laughter as Patty accidentally whiffed her first swing and Leslie nearly lost her balance trying to hit with too much force.

They were awful but they were having fun, and that was all that mattered.

James corrected their form patiently, offering encouragement and demonstrations. He didn’t care about skill today, as this was about sharing a slice of his world with them.

And for a while, as the sun climbed higher and the light-hearted atmosphere thickened.

Eventually, the loudspeakers buzzed gently and announced the transition to brunch.

Families packed up their clubs and strolled toward the shaded terrace where a lavish buffet awaited — omelets, smoked meats, pastries, champagne fountains, and fresh fruit displays.

James, Patty, and Leslie moved with the crowd, enjoying the slow walk across the sprawling green lawns.

As they neared the brunch area, James heard a sharp, shrill and irritably familiar voice.

He turned his head slightly toward the owner of the sound and he saw the bitch —Vivienne Harrow.

Standing with a group of similarly dressed socialites, in their pastel blazers, pearl earrings, with their incurable air of indifference, she spoke in a voice that was loud enough for everyone within earshot to hear. freewёbnoνel.com

Her voice dripped with mocking sweetness as she turned to her companions, all but pointing at James’ group.

"Country clubs really are letting just anyone in these days," Vivienne said with an exaggerated sigh. "Even dragging along... commoners."

One of the women give a short, half-suppressed laugh, and another threw a glance at Leslie and Patty that was barely concealed disdain.

"No wonder the air has been filled with filth as of late."

James felt a slow fire build in his chest when he saw this but he kept walking, with face carefully blank, though his fingers curled tighter around the strap of his golf bag.

Patty and Leslie, thankfully, didn’t hear — or at least pretended not to.

James exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing himself to relax.

Today wasn’t the day to pick a fight. It’s the first time Patty and Leslie are here and he wants them to enjoy it to the fullest.

Last time Vivienne tried to take a bite at him, James overlooked her and treated her like air, but this time he marked her for a future reckoning. Because James Zolomon doesn’t forget.