C H A P T E R 76

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76 | The Royal Esztar Queen

"This is restricted access, miss

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"This is restricted access, miss." The bulky guard stretched his arm in front of the metal door.

"Move." I stated plainly.

In retaliation, he showed me his gun.

Can this get any funnier?

"Ansel! What are you doing!" Heavy footsteps grew louder from behind, his gruff voice echoing in the narrow tapering staircase. "I left you for five minutes and you mess up."

Ansel was all lost.

"She's Vittoria Andress, you fool." The other one gritted in a hushed tone. Ansel's eyes went wide with fear before pitching down with his head hung low.

Wow! I really was famous in Esztar.

"I apologize, ma'am." He bowed down and opened the door for me. "Welcome to Club Inferno."

Club Inferno 2.0, I thought to myself. It was the underground space below the actual club.

Last time I was here in search for my dead brother. Oh and I was also arguing with Rafael over the length of my red dress which he ripped into pieces a few nights earlier.

"The gun really scared me, Ansel." I winked, patting his arm.

Poor guy stuttered but never found words. I laughed, giving him an assuring nod and walking inside only to find every single person or shall I say gangster stop doing whatever they were doing just to look at me like I was some alien.

Pft! Would've worn nice clothes if I knew I was going to get so much attention.

"What." I frowned, throwing a deadly look at all of them. They scampered back in fear and continued with their job.

I was still trying to figure out why exactly they were so afraid of me. But right now I could really use some fear.

So much to mend my broken self respect!

"Give me something which would make me unable to say it's name after it's in my system." I plopped myself down on the bar stool.

The young bar tender raised a brow at me and protruted a bottle from the shelf.

"This is Bruichlasdich X4 Quadrupled Whiskey." 

"I can't pronounce it in sober state as well." I slumped down the bar counter and the bar tender chuckled seeing me pout.

"Made in Scotland. Ninety two percent alcohol by volume." He grinned.

I felt drunk even without touching it. Which meant that was the one for me. I signalled him a thumbs up, still slouched on the counter, feeling overly exhausted.

"Neat."

"I'm not sure that's the best option considering you've come here alone. Just saying." He advised.

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