Chapter 267: Charming a Celebrity

"Step aside, we're going in!"

As security guards for a high-end nightclub like Marquee, even the doormen are carefully selected.

The white bouncer was a retired special forces soldier, while the black bouncer was a renowned local boxer, both with formidable combat skills.

Hearing someone challenge them, they prepared to respond. However, when they looked at the person speaking, they were suddenly met with a pair of piercing, ocean-blue eyes. In an instant, those deep eyes seemed to form a swirling vortex, and the two men found themselves momentarily dazed.

The white bouncer's fierce demeanor transformed into one of deference. Bowing slightly, he removed the barrier rope and gestured to his colleague. "James, open the door."

The black bouncer complied, and the nightclub doors opened, unleashing a blast of booming music. Martin entered the club with a bewildered Gordon in tow.

"What makes them so special?"

One of the two women outside, a brunette, couldn't help but question indignantly.

"He's a big shot; who do you think you are?!" the white bouncer scoffed, giving her a disdainful glance.

The brunette wanted to retort, but her companion, a blonde, pulled her aside, whispering into her ear, "The guy who just went in… I think he's a celebrity. What's his name again?"

She couldn't quite recall at the moment.

It's not surprising.

Heather Matazarro and Biu Phillips had just arrived in America from Latvia, an Eastern European country. For them, the United States was a dreamland compared to the chaos back home.

Both women were trained dancers and had secured work visas by landing roles as nightclub performers. However, they had no intention of working as dancers, using the opportunity merely as a ticket to America.

They were resourceful, managing to charm and incapacitate their overseer before escaping. Yet in America, with no money and no contacts, they now faced the daunting task of survival. Their plan? Seduce wealthy men.

But where could they meet rich men?

Upscale hotels and restaurants were good options, but they couldn't afford to get in. That left nightclubs.

Marquee, being the premier nightclub in North America, was an obvious choice. It attracted a mix of socialites, professionals, and celebrities—the perfect hunting ground.

But the women had underestimated one obstacle: they couldn't even get past the front door.

Their combined funds totaled just $250, of which $50 was stolen from their former overseer. Such limited resources meant they hadn't seen movies or recognized Martin from "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring."

The blonde vaguely remembered seeing his face on a movie poster earlier that day and was struck by how handsome the elf prince looked.

"A celebrity?"

"Yes, I saw him on a movie poster earlier today."

"A big celebrity?"

"Probably?"

"Do you think we can charm him? Celebrities should have money, right?"

"Well, I don't know about charming him, but celebrities definitely have money!"

"Then let's make him our target! At least he's good-looking. And we need money fast."

The brunette rubbed her stomach as she spoke. She had eaten nothing but a slice of bread that day to save money and was now famished.

The blonde, equally hungry, nodded in agreement. "But how do we even get in?"

"I think we didn't offer enough money."

The brunette gritted her teeth. "Let's take a gamble and offer them $100."

"That much?!" The blonde was shocked, as it would use up nearly half their funds.

"It's a gamble. If we don't, we won't last long with what we have left. We can't sleep on the streets; it's too dangerous."

The blonde hesitated, then nodded resolutely. "Alright, let's do it!"

Their conversation in their native language concluded, the brunette approached the white bouncer and offered him a crisp $100 bill. "Will this get us in?"

The bouncer was surprised, clearly not expecting such a large tip. He exchanged a glance with his colleague before pocketing the money with a smirk and signaling for the door to be opened.

Excited and hopeful, the two women stepped into Marquee, North America's most renowned nightclub.

Marquee spanned three floors: a hip-hop zone on the first floor, a house music area with an outdoor terrace on the second, and a signature suspended pool area on the third.

"Wow, it's huge!" Heather exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"It's so luxurious!" Biu clung nervously to her friend's arm, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

The thumping, electrifying music filled the massive first-floor hall. The space was packed with revelers swaying and gyrating to the DJ's beats.

The DJ himself, donning a skull mask, was an energetic presence, occasionally letting out strange howls that riled up the crowd even more.

Heather, bolder by nature, quickly began moving to the music. "Come on, Biu, loosen up. This is a place to have fun. Blend in!"

"We're here to find someone, aren't we?" Biu shouted over the deafening music, her accent drawing the attention of a young man in a black T-shirt nearby. Intrigued, he began observing the pair.

"Relax! Let's dance first," Heather shouted back, dragging Biu into the throng.

Both women, being trained dancers, moved with a grace and rhythm that stood out, even in the chaotic energy of the dance floor. Before long, they had drawn a circle of admirers, who cheered and danced around them.

"I love this!" Heather yelled in delight.

Biu, too, forgot her hunger, throwing herself into the revelry. "This is amazing!"

After about fifteen minutes, the two women, exhausted, stepped out of the crowd to catch their breath.

Looking up at the quieter second floor, Biu suggested, "It looks calmer up there. Our target might be there. Should we go check?"

Heather flipped her sweat-dampened brunette hair over her shoulder and grinned. "Let's do it—time to charm a celebrity!"

Biu laughed, amused by her friend's confidence. "Alright, let's charm a celebrity!"