Female Novel
Chapter 1321
Zoey wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a cautious warmth in her tone.
"Girl, you just got rid of that jerk. Don't fall back into trouble because of this. Keep your wits about you,
okay?"
Cornelia gave a confident pat on Zoey's shoulder.
"Relax, Zoey. My time in showbiz has turned my heart to steel."
Heart to steel? You don't get that tough without having been through the wringer.
Zoey stepped aside, and Cornelia made her way downstairs, heading straight for BlueSky Bar.
It was the watering hole of choice for Greenfield's elite, and lately, Omar had been the talk of the town.
Ever since he'd wiped the floor with the Cassons, he sat undisputed at the helm of the once-powerful
family, his fingers wrapped tight around every last one of their assets.
And then there was his alliance with the maverick Olson heir—two loose cannons together. Who wouldnovelbin
dare to cross them?
Everyone knew Omar had his eye on a certain movie star lately—a shameless one, at that, who'd shot
to fame with some scandalous selfies. Even a Hollywood bit part couldn't scrub clean her reputation as
a fame-hungry, cut-rate actress.
It was a mystery what had blinded such a distinguished man to the plentiful smears against her. Omar
wasn't known for playing the gallant; the gossip that he'd fallen for a starlet with such a tarnished record
was unprecedented.
But no one dared to jest about it. In their words, they lifted Omar to the skies.
As Cornelia approached the BlueSky Bar, the doorman gave her the once-over.
Her recent brush with notoriety had set the tabloids ablaze—first, that photo with the A-lister had stirred
up a storm, and then came the Hollywood role, catapulting her to stardom overnight.
No one dared follow in her scandalous footsteps to fame, yet she'd succeeded.
The male attendant's eyes lingered on her, recalling the revealed contours in that leaked picture—no
man could resist. Cornelia had just snagged a membership card, but her previous visits had always
been chaperoned. Tonight, she was solo.
The doorman's gaze was sleazy as it prowled over her.
"Ms. Cornelia, I'm afraid a membership card alone won't get you inside."
BlueSky Bar wasn't just about wealth. It was a cut above, and that's why there were never any
paparazzi snaps from inside. None could infiltrate its walls.
Cornelia flashed him a smile.
"Would you mind letting Omar know I'm here? I need a word with him."
"Ms. Cornelia, I'm sorry, but please leave. Your current status isn't quite enough for this establishment."
Cornelia didn't lose her cool; she was used to the social seesaw of the industry. She pulled out her
phone, resurrected Omar's number from the blacklist, and dialed.
Omar, seeing the familiar digits, thought he was seeing things. Yet he hadn't touched a drop more than
usual that night.
His expression darkened, and the people around him grew concerned.
"Mr. Casson, what's wrong? Who's got you riled up?"
He stood abruptly, ignoring their queries, and strode into the quiet hallway to take the call.
"Cornelia?"
Cornelia was calling him?
Was he dreaming?
"Omar, I need a favor. Can we meet tonight? I'm outside BlueSky Bar."
"Why don't you come in?"
"They won't let me."
She stated it plainly, but Omar's eyes flashed with fury.
Cornelia waited just a minute before the bar's manager emerged, promptly firing the doorman before
approaching her with utmost respect.
"Ms. Cornelia, this way, please."
She said nothing. The doorman had been out of line. Membership should have meant easy entry, but
he must have thought to take advantage of her notoriety—costing him his job instead.
Clutching her purse, she nodded and followed the manager to a private room.
Inside, it was silent.
When the door swung open, she was surprised to see rose petals strewn across the floor—in just a few
minutes, Omar had managed to order a romantic setup.
There he was, lounging on the sofa.
As Cornelia stepped in, her heart stirred—not with affection, but with a jarring sense of reality.
A ruthless man and a notorious starlet. If not for the well-known chase Omar had given her, many
would-be suitors from wealthy families would be clamoring for her attention.
Most men didn't care about a woman's past. As long as she was clean and famous, she was desirable.
To claim to have been with such a woman was to have a story to boast about.
Such was the ugly side of human nature.
Cornelia's heels clicked elegantly forward, crushing the carpet of red petals beneath her, a defiant
statement in every step.