The Retired CEO's Guide To Being Spoiled-Chapter 157: The Inner Circle

The room was incredibly spacious, divided into several distinct functional areas: a plush sofa area for drinking and conversation, a zone with a billiards table, and a well-stocked private bar. There were quite a few people gathered in the central sofa area. The glass table in front of them was laden with bottles of expensive foreign liquor, sparkling crystal glasses, and the curling, aromatic smoke of cigars.

Perhaps it was because they had heard the knock and the sound of the door opening, but their conversation came to an abrupt halt. At that moment, every single pair of eyes in the room turned in unison to look directly at him.

The gazes that landed on him were not laden with crude, boorish scrutiny. There was no vulgar curiosity in them. Instead, they held the sharp, weighing quality of men accustomed to sitting at the very pinnacle of power, a collective assessment that was intellectual, inquisitive, and laced with a hint of genuine amusement. It was the look of predators observing a new creature entering their territory, not necessarily to devour, but to understand its place in the food chain.

Julian Sterling stood at the threshold, meeting those gazes with a practiced calm. He did not flinch, nor did he look away. His eyes swept across the room in a quick, fluid motion, a habit ingrained in him from his previous life, allowing him to identify and categorize the occupants of the VIP suite within seconds.

Among the group, there were faces he had already encountered.

There was Patrick Lane, the young master and current CEO of the Lane family empire. To the outside world, Patrick often projected the image of a refined, carefree gentleman, a socialite who breezed through life. Yet, Julian knew that beneath that polished, "PatPat" exterior lay a sharp business mind capable of steering a massive conglomerate.

Then there was Simon. A young man who had carved his own path, distinct and separate from the vast inheritance of his family. He had broken away, established his own company, and solidified a personal foothold in the ruthless business world. It was a brilliant strategic move, one that had allowed him to completely sidestep the bloody, internecine power struggles that plagued the Simon family’s internal hierarchy.

And, of course, there was the doctor. Kieran Talbot. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

The sight of Kieran caused a flicker of heat to rise in Julian’s cheeks. He couldn’t help but recall the last time they had met. It was the day Julian had been drugged, his body burning with an unnatural, consuming heat. Ethan Caldwell had carried him, desperate and commanding, into Kieran’s private clinic. The memory was vivid and visceral, the clinical scent of the room, the sterile equipment, and the way he and Ethan had engaged in a frantic, uninhibited entanglement right there in the medical facility. Technically, they had turned the good doctor’s clinic into their personal playground.

It was, to put it mildly, slightly mortifying.

Aside from these three familiar faces, there were two other men in the room whom Julian did not immediately recognize. He racked his brain, trying to match their features to the vast database of names and profiles he had memorized from the novel and his own investigations, but nothing clicked immediately. They sat in the dimmer, more secluded corners of the room, their presence commanding yet understated.

One of the strangers sat with a posture that could only be described as architectural perfection. His back was straight as a ramrod, his shoulders squared and level. He exuded an aura of rigid discipline and unyielding strength, reminiscent of a towering pine tree that refuses to bend in the wind. At a glance, his temperament felt strikingly similar to Ethan’s, cold, authoritative, and dangerous. Julian surmised he was likely another CEO from a top-tier family, or perhaps someone with a heavy military background given the precision of his movements.

The other stranger, however, was a study in contrast.

This man sat with a deliberate, languid slouch, his body draped comfortably against the plush leather of the sofa. He looked the picture of decadent relaxation. In one hand, he idly flipped a silver Zippo lighter, the metallic *clink-clink* sound providing a rhythmic undercurrent to the room’s atmosphere. The thick, aromatic haze of tobacco smoke that lingered in the air clearly originated from him. He had a wild, untamed edge to him, a stark difference from the disciplined man beside him.

Ethan Caldwell was seated slightly to the left of the center. In his hand, he held a crystal tumbler filled with an amber liquid, likely a vintage whisky or an equally exorbitant cognac. Julian couldn’t tell from this distance. The moment the man saw Julian step through the heavy wooden doors, the transformation was instantaneous.

Ethan set the glass down on the reflective black table with a definitive clink. He didn’t say a word initially, simply lifting his hand and patting the empty space on the sofa right next to him. The gesture was natural, intimate, and possessed an air of absolute entitlement.

"Come here." he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated with warmth: "Sit with me."

Julian obeyed, walking obediently toward the man.

Because he had spent the afternoon meeting with Lucas Hill, Julian had opted for an outfit that prioritized comfort without sacrificing style. However, knowing that a meeting with Ethan’s inner circle might be on the cards later, he had chosen something that bridged the gap between casual and formal. He wasn’t wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans. Instead, he was dressed in a high-quality silk shirt in a soft, creamy hue that shimmered slightly under the warm lights, paired with simple, well-tailored trousers.

The silk draped over his frame elegantly, highlighting the slender lines of his body. As for Julian’s appearance, it needed no embellishment. Nurtured by Ethan’s care and his own improved living conditions, his natural beauty had bloomed fully. He radiated a clean, pristine aura. He looked incredibly beautiful, yet retained a sense of obedience and softness. Standing there in the smoke-filled room, surrounded by the smell of strong alcohol and expensive tobacco, Julian looked like a pure, unblemished elf who had accidentally wandered into the fires of the mortal world. It was a striking juxtaposition, a visual representation of a fallen angel being pulled down into the den of wolves.

The contrast was so potent that the moment the lounging stranger saw Julian, he paused. The man who had been smoking casually flicked his wrist and extinguished the half-burnt cigarette in the crystal ashtray.

It was a subconscious gesture of respect, or perhaps an instinctual hesitation to taint the bright, clean spirit that had just walked in.

When Julian finally sat down, settling into the space Ethan had reserved for him, the picture was complete. They created a harmonious balance: one man exuding a domineering, steady, and dark power. The other radiating elegance, gentleness, and light. Without trying, they complemented each other perfectly, like yin and yang.

The stranger who had been smoking, the one with the slouch and the Zippo, suddenly spoke up. He was sitting next to Kieran, and his voice carried a teasing, mocking tone that danced on the edge of impropriety, yet revealed a deep underlying camaraderie.