World's Richest Man: I Leaped Across Time

Chapter 143: First Meeting

What now?One way to go about it would be to hand this information over to Luna Park. She could probably publish it—expose everything.

But then again, if this re

The look on their faces was calm and professional.

"Welcome aboard, sir, ma'am," one of them said, gesturing towards the entrance of the yacht.

I took the umbrella, stepping out into the rain.

They helped Charlotte down next, treating her with the same care and respect, one of the attendants making sure she didn't slip on the wet surface.

After getting off the heli, a faint smirk played on Charlotte's lips as she adjusted the hem of her black dress.

As soon as the helicopter soared back into the rain-soaked skies, we were escorted to the door leading inside.

The attendants were treating us like royalty.

Once we entered, I felt like I had gone back in time yet again.

The interior wasn't modern or simple like in most yachts—it felt as if I had walked straight into a Renaissance ballroom. The walls were made out of stone slabs with patterns carved into them and the room was bathed in a warm golden light.

Everything had this medieval, old-money feel, and it screamed rich.

The ballroom was massive—two floors with an open, spacious layout.

Right in front of us, the ground floor featured a large dance hall where a dozen people were dancing.

Only two of them wore masks like us, and already, I recognized some faces.

To the right, there were doors after doors, probably leading to private rooms.

I saw one man rush off of the dance floor, entering one of the rooms, holding the hand of a beautiful brunette.

To the left was the staircase, spiraling up to the second floor, where a balcony wrapped around the entire area.

Up there, many tables were set up, and I could see many more guests dining or watching the scene below.

Charlotte's eyes scanned the room, and she leaned closer to me, whispering, "Jack, all the women here are wearing insanely expensive-looking designer dresses... And they're all drop-dead gorgeous."

I scanned the room, taking in all the women twirling around with older dudes. The dresses were fancy, glittering under the soft lights, but it didn't take much to know what was up.

I glanced around at the chicks dancing with the older men, most of them wearing fancy gowns that shimmered under the chandelier lights.

They were graceful, almost too perfect, but it didn't take much to know what was up.

"Most of them aren't guests," I told her, my voice low. "They're hired models."

In fact, most of the women were in their mid-twenties, dancing with men decades older than them. There was only one older couple swaying among them—probably married.

"Even so, you're more beautiful than all of them." I added.

Charlotte turned to look at me. "Stop lying. I'm wearing a freakin' panda mask!"

"Makes you look even cuter."

"Alright, Mr. Smooth Talker. what do we do now?"

I gestured to the staircase. "Let's head upstairs."

As we made our way up, I started noticing the subtleties of how this place worked.

Most of the models worked as waiters, but if one of the members so desired, they could just ask, and the models would walk down the stairs with them, hand in hand and dance with them.

I spotted a few male models walking around as well. After all, there were female members of the club too.

As we finally reached the top and found an empty table, I glanced around the room. There were about eighty people upstairs.

At one of the tables, I saw Arnold Johnson. He had a big smile on his face; he wasn't putting the same airs on as he did when he was speaking with me.

Across from him was a man with gray hair, but I couldn't see his face from this angle.

When it comes to familiar faces, the man that entered one of the private rooms with one of the models was Tom King, the President of the Florida Senate. Which confirmed to me that Arnold Johnson dark lobbied him during those meetings.

I recognized a few other politicians too, but I couldn't remember their names.

My eyes landed on Max Griffin, the CEO of Citydel, sitting at a nearby table. He was one of the 20 richest men in the U.S., worth over $5 billion.

But then I saw someone unexpected walk up the stairs.

She was wearing a puffy red dress with shiny stones. Her dark brown hair flowed down in waves.

Gabriel's wife, Emily Heart.

After getting to the second floor, she walked straight to Arnold's table.