My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 44: [ - - 43.2] - I will do whatever I want

Chapter 43.2

Meanwhile, the car stopped outside a stylish but dimly lit club just off the main street. Neon lights flickered in soft pinks and deep blues. The place had a moody glow.

Gopal stepped out and opened the back door for Iris.

"We are here, madam," he said gently. He had lost his usual wit right now.

Iris stepped out without saying anything. Her heels made a sharp clicking sound on the pavement.

Gopal watched her walk toward the entrance.

"You sure you are okay, madam?" he asked from behind.

She paused just for a second, then said, "No. But I will deal with on my own."

Then she walked inside.

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The music inside the club was loud. Heavy beats, flashing lights, and people dancing close together on the dance floor.

Iris didn’t look around. She headed straight to the bar and sat down.

The bartender noticed her immediately.

"What can I get you?" he asked, eyes scanning her from head to toe.

"Whiskey. Neat," she said.

"One whiskey, coming right up."

As the bartender poured her drink, Iris sat quietly, staring ahead. The noise around her didn’t matter. She didn’t come here to dance.

She came to forget.

The bartender placed a glass in front of Iris. She picked it up, swirled the whiskey inside for a second, then took a slow sip.

The burn slid down her throat. It felt good. Sharp. Real.

She ordered another.

This time, it went down smoother. The heat filled her chest, and her body relaxed. She opened a few buttons of her shirt to let her skin breathe. It was warm inside, and the air was thick with music, sweat, and flashing lights.

She noticed a few eyes on her— men looking from across the bar, some alone, some in groups. She could feel their glances, but she didn’t care.

One man walked up with a smirk, but before he could say a word, Iris shot him a sharp look.

"Not tonight, I suppose," He backed off immediately.

She raised her hand to the bartender.

"Just give me a few shots altogether. Whiskey. Now," she said.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, "You don’t seem to be celebrating something. Forgetting someone?"

Iris gave a half-smile, "I don’t know. A bit of both."

He lined up the shots. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Without a pause, she drank them all one after the other. The last one hit hardest. Her arms felt loose, her legs lighter. She leaned back on the bar stool, ran a hand through her hair, and crossed her legs. Her skirt stretched a little, hugging her thighs.

The music got louder. Lights flickered red and blue across the dance floor. People were yelling, laughing, bodies grinding close on the floor.

Iris’s phone buzzed.

She looked.

Lucius.

She stared at the screen for a second, then turned the phone over and slipped it into her purse.

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Lucius was still at the hotel. He called Iris again. But one after the other, there was no answer.

"Come on, Iris, pick up," he said, pacing near the entrance.

Again no answer. He growled in frustration, "Damn it!"

Just then, his phone rang. He answered without looking.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, sir," said the voice on the other end, "This is Gopal. Remember me?"

Lucius frowned, "Gopal! Yeah! I am sorry man, But I am kind of busy right now."

"Is it something important?"

"I am sure whatever you are up to. I can be of some help," Gopal replied from the other side.

"Madam was with me just now," Gopal continued, "And I must say, she is not exactly in the mood for roses and poetry," Gopal said lightly.

Lucius straightened, "What? She’s with you? You aren’t joking with me are you, Gopal?"

"She was. She called me from the hotel, told me to come fast. I picked her up and dropped her at Club Mirage." Gopal told Lucius.

Lucius froze, "Club Mirage? She went there alone? Or is there someone else?"

Gopal nodded, though Lucius couldn’t see him, "She went in alone sir. It has already been half an hour."

"I don’t like to meddle, but I have been nearby, just in case. She went in alone, but might not come out alone."

"You know how crowded clubs are. And honestly... if you don’t want your night to end with a heartbreak, you might want to get there before she drinks the whole bar."

Lucius was already grabbing his coat, "I am coming now. Send me the location."

"Yes, sir. But next time... Maybe don’t leave your girl wondering where she stands," Gopal said with a small chuckle.

Lucius didn’t reply. He hung up and rushed to the street to catch a cab.

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Back at Club Mirage, as the night grew darker, the party became wilder.

The bass from the speakers shook the floor. Neon lights flashed, cutting across the dance floor like lightning. Couples danced too close. Drinks spilled. Laughter echoed over the music.

Iris sat at the bar, now a little slouched. Her lipstick had faded, her hair slightly messy. Her eyes were heavy with drink. She held her glass lazily, watching the liquid swirl inside like fire.

The eyes were still on her. But Iris wasn’t paying attention anymore.

She just stared at her glass.

Waiting.

Burning.

At the far corner of the club, four men stood close, watching Iris like vultures circling a dying animal. Their eyes were dark, their stares bold. One wore a white skull cap and a worn leather jacket, chest exposed through his half-buttoned kurta. The others weren’t far behind— greasy hair, thick beards, and a kind of smug filth in the way they looked at every woman who passed.

They weren’t there to drink. They were there to prey.

"Look at that slut," the one in the jacket sneered, eyes locked on Iris.

"Drunk, legs wide open, and all alone," another one muttered, "She’s asking for it."

"Imagine how she will moan if we pull her into a dark corner," the third one said, eyes glued to her thighs.

"She won’t even remember tomorrow," the fourth one grinned, downing a shot, "Why don’t we go and say hello."

"Why imagine? Let’s go enjoy her for real," the man with the skull cap spoke, licking his bottom lip.

They walked over with zero shame, pushing past a couple who shot them dirty looks. One of them shoved a stool away and pushed it to the man with the skull cap who sat next to Iris like he owned it.

"Hey, sweetheart," the man in the skull cap spoke in a low, greasy voice, "You look like someone who needs a man tonight."

Her eyes turned toward him, dull from alcohol, but full of disgust, "Get lost."

"Aw, don’t be like that," he smiled, yellow teeth showing, "You are out here all dressed up just to drink alone?"

"Just leave," she waved him off.

The man chuckled darkly, "A fiery one, huh? I like that."

"You should be nicer. We are trying to be polite." His friend leaned in from behind and muttered, "We will take care of you. Real good care."

"Try touching me and I will break your teeth," she slurred, pushing her chair slightly back.

The man with the skull cap brushed her hair back, "Relax, baby. You will enjoy it."

"Don’t touch me!" she yelled, jerking his hand away.

The bartender stepped forward, "I am sorry sir, but please leave the lady alone."

One of the men turned toward him, eyes hard, "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Sir please. Don’t make a scene here," the bartender repeated, firmer.

Another man from the group stepped between them, "You better stay in your lane, bartender. Or I will break your nose, piss in your ice bucket and make you drink it through your nose."

One of the other men turned toward him, "Shut up and serve drinks. Unless you want trouble."

The skull cap man reached across the counter and grabbed a whiskey bottle. He popped it open with his teeth and poured a glass, then forced it toward Iris’s lips.

"Come on, drink with me, darling," he said, forcing the glass near her mouth.

"Let go of me, you dog!" Iris shouted as she jerked her head away, the whiskey spilling across her skirt, "You sick bastard! Let go!"

"Oh no," he laughed, "Looks like you need cleaning."

He grabbed tissues from the counter and ran his hand across her thigh, slowly, like she was a toy.

His hand slid upward, up her skirt.

That’s when Iris snapped.

"Get your dirty hands off me, you piece of shit!" she screamed and kicked hard, her heel striking the man’s shin. He staggered backwards in pain.

She shoved her stool and swung her purse, hitting another in the chest.

"You wanna fuck with me? Come on then!" she roared, blood rushing through her veins like fire.

The men regrouped, growling and spitting curses. The bartender stepped out again, dialing someone on his phone quickly.

"Bitch, I have had enough. I was too soft on you," the skull capped man hissed.

"Drag this bitch out for me."

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