RedNovelThe roar of the motorcycle and the rush of wind tore past their ears as they weaved across the street. After a
quick turn, the two women slipped down a narrow alley and finally cto a stop at the end. The door to the bar
stood wide open, looking unremarkable from the outside. Inside, just two or three people were quietly tidying up,
getting ready for the night ahead.
Alessia pulled off her helmet and ran a hand through her long hair, smoothing it absentmindedly. Stella, with her
neat, close-cropped hair, gave it a quick tousle and seemed content to leave it be-until Alessia rolled her eyes
and reached over to pat down a stray tuft sticking up at the back.
A server spotted them and rushed over, taking their helmets. Stella tossed him her keys as well, then slipped an
arm around Alessia’s shoulders and led her inside. At five-six, Alessia wasn’t short, but Stella still had nearly a
head on her.
“So? It's just like your plans,” Stella said, barely through the door before her excitement bubbled over. “You're
supposed to be the co-owner, but you never even showed up for the grand opening.”
“You know | prefer to keep a low profile. Besides, didn't | send you slittle gifts as an apology?” Alessia
cupped her face in her hands and winked. “Miss Laine is far too gracious to hold a grudge-right?”
“Oh, I wouldn't dare be mad at my favorite sponsor.” Stella glanced over at the display of glasses and bottles
behind the bar, shaking her head with mock admiration. “Seriously, though.”
“Just sbaubles worth, what, almost eight million?” Alessia replied with a smirk. That was exactly why Stella
hadn’t worried when Alessia left the Tate family.
How many pampered heiresses could, before even turning twenty-one, casually spend eight million on “little
trinkets“-and, while she was at it, invest another million into her friend's pipe-dream bar, all without any help
from home?
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAlessia didn’t answer further. She simply made a slow circuit of the bar, Stella trailing behind her in silence.
This wasn’t your typical bar, all neon and shadowy corners. Instead, the whole place was bathed in a warm,
golden glow-not sultry, but quietly luxurious. Anyone with an eye for it would notice: from the tiniest glass to the
bricks in the wall, everything here was chosen with care. Sthings, Stella knew, couldn’t be bought with
money alone.
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Once she'd looked her fill, Alessia dropped into a cozy corner seat. Stella snapped her fingers, and a server
appeared with a cocktail and a soda.
Stella flicked her hair back, picking up her cocktail with one hand and draping her other arm along the sofa,
looking effortlessly cool.
“So, my illustrious patron-are you pleased with what you see?”
Alessia arched an eyebrow, took a sip of juice, and set it down. “Not bad. With Justin and his crew handling the
build, I'm not worried.”
“How’s Queenie doing?”
“She'll be back by the end of the year, most likely.”
“Good. She keeps tellingeverything's fine, but if something's really wrong, nobody's better at hiding it than
her. Last time, she nearly died and I only found out because | was extra nosy. Otherwise, she'd still be keeping it
from me.”
Knowing this topic always riled Stella up, Alessia steered the conversation elsewhere. “But you calledover
today-was there something important?”
“Nothing major,” Stella said, shrugging. “I poached a new house singer from another place. Pretty easy on the
eyes. How about we grab dinner later, then cback for a couple of songs?”
Alessia didn’t look too interested, but she nodded anyway.
“By the way, | heard you took your brother to see a doctor?”
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“Yesterday? Or does he chere every night?” Alessia teased, her tone light and playful.
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