(Gilded Veil)- Founder / C.E.O.
"Luxury is the mask. Power is the truth."
In the heart of Nar Shaddaa, nestled between the shadows of syndicates and shimmering skywalks, lies The Gilded Veil — a palace of spice, music, secrets, and the calculating gaze of its enigmatic owner, Sommer Dai.
The Club is Alive.
And it wants to know what you're worth.
Will you rise within the Veil, or disappear behind it?
✧ "All Eyes On The Veil" ✧
The doors whispered open before her — not from the press of her heel, but from presence alone.
Sommer Dai stood at the threshold of her kingdom, haloed by the blush of neon and the deep hum of low synthwaves pulsing from within. The Gilded Veil was not just a nightclub tonight. It was theater, power, and trap — all in one.
Tonight wasn't ordinary.
A known noble — Duke Verlo Canto, emissary from the Siskeen aristocracy — had confirmed his arrival. With him, the galactic entertainer Nyx Azalein and their entourage of pleasure-chasers, scandal chasers, and rumor-hounds.
One slip, and the whispers would devour her.
Sommer's heels clicked across obsidian tile as she entered the main floor, eyes scanning like targeting lasers. Her crystal blue gaze landed on the nearest security post.
In the heart of Nar Shaddaa, nestled between the shadows of syndicates and shimmering skywalks, lies The Gilded Veil — a palace of spice, music, secrets, and the calculating gaze of its enigmatic owner, Sommer Dai.
The Club is Alive.
And it wants to know what you're worth.
Will you rise within the Veil, or disappear behind it?
✧ "All Eyes On The Veil" ✧
The doors whispered open before her — not from the press of her heel, but from presence alone.
Sommer Dai stood at the threshold of her kingdom, haloed by the blush of neon and the deep hum of low synthwaves pulsing from within. The Gilded Veil was not just a nightclub tonight. It was theater, power, and trap — all in one.
Tonight wasn't ordinary.
A known noble — Duke Verlo Canto, emissary from the Siskeen aristocracy — had confirmed his arrival. With him, the galactic entertainer Nyx Azalein and their entourage of pleasure-chasers, scandal chasers, and rumor-hounds.
One slip, and the whispers would devour her.
Sommer's heels clicked across obsidian tile as she entered the main floor, eyes scanning like targeting lasers. Her crystal blue gaze landed on the nearest security post.
"Tighten every entry point," she ordered without pause. "No randoms. Everyone gets scanned twice. I want bios read clean, and if you see someone trying too hard to blend in? Flag them. I don't care if they're wearing credits on their collar."
A flash of pink light bathed her form as she turned toward the central console — where floor managers monitored every sector of the Veil through tinted holos.
"Food service—status."
"Drinks—are we running with the Emberline Reserve for high rollers?"
"Where the hell are my dancers?"
A staff member, flustered, approached with a datapad in hand. Sommer took it, reviewed, and handed it back with a flick of her manicured fingers.
"I want Elyna on the aerial rings and Kai Vell front-stage. Rotate the new girls to the mezzanine — but only if they've passed visual. No stumbles tonight. If they fall," her smile sharpened, "they fall out of my business."
Her voice remained cool — but her eyes sparked like twin sapphires laced with fire.
She walked toward the bar, her presence alone causing the staff to snap into sharper form. Bottles lined like soldiers, lighting synced with her movements — even the music adjusted subtly, as if the club's soul was syncing to hers.
"Let the DJ know: no hard tempo before midnight. I want allure, not assault. Save the drops for when Duke Canto starts drinking."
She stopped, finally, by the balcony that overlooked the entire floor.
Below, The Gilded Veil glowed — violet lights, serpentine shadows, bodies already in motion — but tonight it had to do more than glow.
It had to dazzle, disarm, and dominate.
Sommer raised a glass of Glitterstim Whisper, its surface catching the reflection of her own perfect smirk.
"Let's give them a night they'll never recover from."
And somewhere, in the hazy blue of her gaze, a storm was waiting — carefully coiled behind glamour and grace.


