Chapter 10 Restricted Club

Abe sighed. “Ricardo knows nothing about business. He squandered the profits lavishly on parties and women. In one year, we were bankrupt. Ricardo sold GlobeMall to a billionaire and became a salaried caretaker of this establishment instead. He continues to incur losses, and I think the mini-mall will be shut down sooner than later.” Tyler gritted his teeth. “Ricardo stole the place from my father and ran it into the ground! Tell me. Where can I find him?” Abe pointed to the third-floor arena. “Mr. Ricardo built an exclusive club up there. It’s frequented by many billionaire heirs. The club’s income is quite handsome, but he wastes all the profits on his extravagant lifestyle anyway.” Tyler nodded and turned to leave. “Alright. I will talk to him.” Abe held back the young man anxiously. “I know Mr. Ricardo wronged your father. But don’t go around offending him. He has over a dozen ferocious security guards around him at all times. Moreover, he has connections with the Cooper family. That man is not to be trifled with. You could lose your life!” “Thanks for your concern, Abe,” Tyler said, patting the middle-aged man’s shoulder. “But I am here just to talk. And remember, your loyalty will be rewarded.” Saying this, he ignored Abe’s warnings and stepped into the elevator. The third-floor arena was a large clubbing area with VIP tables and luxurious cabins. The charges were so high that only wealthy customers could indulge in bookings. It was an adult section, and therefore, both liquor and escorts were allowed, which attracted many billionaire scions. As Tyler stepped out of the elevator, two heavy-set bouncers stopped him. “Are you a janitor or what?” one of them asked threateningly. “What are you doing on this floor?” Tyler showed no emotion. “I am here to speak to Ricardo.” The bouncers raised their brows and began laughing. “Mr. Ricardo doesn’t talk to poor stragglers. Get lost!” The young man remained unfazed. “Tell him Tyler Grant is here to see him. I am the son of Hugh Grant, the previous owner of GlobeMall.” The guards chuckled again. “Are you drunk or what, kid? Do you claim to be the previous owner’s son? That’s hard to believe. By the looks of it, your father is probably a roadside beggar!” Tyler gritted his teeth, and his aura immediately spiked. The bouncers’ laughter abruptly subsided as the surrounding air thickened, and they felt suffocated. Just then, the sound of heels echoed. A young lady dressed in a conservative bodycon walked down the corridor. She was slender and yet voluptuous at the right places. Her hair was fashionably pinned in a hairdo, and light makeup lit up her otherwise angelic face. Tyler’s aura simmered on laying eyes on her. “What seems to be the problem, Marv?” she asked one of the bouncers. The duo straightened up and turned to the classy lady, who seemed to be their immediate boss. “Miss Mathews, this homeless person somehow barged into the mini-mall,” Marv replied. “He claims to be the previous owner’s son. We’re just laughing him off. You can join us.” The young woman was not impressed by the bouncers’ conduct. “Marv! Pat! Shame on you! It’s not your job to make fun of anybody! Even if he is a homeless person, he will listen to reason and leave.” The duo nodded reluctantly, and she turned to Tyler. “Hello. I am Yara Mathews, manager of this restricted VIP section. Please understand you can’t enter without a table reservation. All three of us will be fired if you do so. And the charges are too high for you to pay in this lifetime. If you want to meet Mr. Ricardo, you can wait outside the mini-mall. When he leaves for home, you might request an audience.” Yara’s professionalism impressed Tyler. Not only did she explain the issue properly, but she also tried hard not to be disrespectful. Tyler was going to barge in after demolishing the bouncers, but now he decided to play along. “How much does a table reservation cost?” he asked Yara. On hearing his words, Marv and Pat sniggered. “Miss Mathews, he’s wasting your time,” Pat urged. “Buddy, this is not a roadside hotdog joint where you can dine at a dollar’s cost,” Marv warned. “You better leave before we lose our temper!” Yara ignored the bouncers’ comments and answered Tyler’s question. “A reservation costs three thousand dollars only for entry. You’ll have to pay additional for other amenities and services. I hope you realize now that you can’t afford it.” Tyler scratched his beard, thinking for a moment. Then he fished in his pocket and retrieved the Guardian International Bank debit card he received from Butch Salvatore. He held it up to Yara with confidence. “I’d like to make a reservation.”