Ava hadn't planned to be here, but she had no choice but to hang out with her friends. The glowing lights of the club pulsed too bright, the bass too heavy, and every laugh around her sounded like it was mocking her broken heart. She wasted her three years dating Daniel, only to find out he had been cheating behind her back.
"Come on, Ava, forget him, or you want to lose your life over a man," Grace shouted over the music, shoving a cocktail into her hand. "Tonight is about you. Drink, dance, and you might even get laid."
Sophie giggled, already swaying to the rhythm. "She's right. You've cried enough. Just… live a little." Ava hesitated, staring at the glass. But after everything, maybe numbing herself wasn't such a bad idea. She forced herself to drink up. One drink turned to two, and by the third, her senses felt a little dull. Her body loosened, and soon she was moving with the music, laughing as Grace spun her around. For the first time in weeks, she wasn't thinking about her cheating ex.
Across the room, in the private VIP lounge, Damian drank his whiskey slowly. The club was his, yet he often felt like a stranger in it. He wore a tailored black suit, the collar of his shirt slightly undone, golden hair falling across his forehead. He didn't come here to party; he came here to think.
"Still brooding, I see," Jonathan, his oldest friend and lawyer, slid into the seat beside him. He signaled the waitress before leaning closer. "You know you can't avoid this topic forever. Your grandfather's will is clear: if you don't get married by your thirtieth birthday, your stepbrother Ethan gets everything. And you know damn well Ethan is already circling like a vulture." Damian's jaw tightened. "I don't need the reminder."
Jonathan sighed, swirling his drink. "Then tell me you have a plan. Because if you don't, Ethan wins." Before Damian could reply,
Jonathan's gaze drifted past the crowd below. A smirk tugged at his lips. "Well, well… look at that. Seems your club's not just good for business alone, wow, these peaches look ripe for plucking." Damian followed his friend's line of sight. On the dance floor, a small group of women was laughing, dancing, and spinning under the lights. At the center was a petite girl with dark hair. She was pretty, but the way she was dancing like someone crazy amused Damian. She seemed a bit drunk, dancing like a madwoman, and that was exactly what made her stand out. "She's different," Jonathan said, nudging Damian's shoulder. "Not your usual type, huh?" Damian leaned back, unimpressed. "She's drunk." "Maybe," Jonathan grinned, "but sometimes a drunk cunt gushes out wetness the most ." Damian didn't answer. Instead, his eyes lingered a moment longer on the girl who laughed like she was high on something.
The bass throbbed through Ava's chest, the kind of sound that made it impossible not to move. She hadn't danced in months, but the alcohol in her veins made her forget that. Tonight was about being free. Tonight was about pretending her life wasn't falling apart. Grace spun in the middle of the dance floor, her confidence magnetic, while Sophie clung to Ava's hand, pulling her into the circle. Ava stumbled, laughed, and let her body sway. For once, she wasn't the quiet girl she used to be. Ava squeezed her eyes shut and let the beat carry her away. "Just dance," she whispered to herself. "Just dance.
From the upper floor, Damian saw her again. She is just another pretty face in the crowd, hunting for prey. He couldn't explain why his eyes kept drifting back to the drunk stranger. Damian's grip on his glass tightened, irritation flickering through him. This wasn't him. He wasn't the type to stare.
Jonathan leaned back in the booth, stretching one arm across the leather seat. His sharp eyes, always observant, followed Damian's line of sight. When he caught the petite girl below, his lips curled into a grin. "Well, this is new," Jonathan said, smirking. "Didn't think young girls who look like they'd cry over bad grades were your thing." Damian didn't look away, though his jaw tightened. "She's not." Jonathan let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained. "That explains why you've been watching her for ages, he checked his watch dramatically, "What, twelve minutes now?" "She's not my type," Damian repeated, this time sharper. Damien's taste wasn't complicated. He liked women who could satisfy a man, knew the deal without needing it spelled out. The kind who can do anything to please a man and still not expect commitment, drink hard, and spread it for him without him trying too hard. No messy emotions, no one trying to play wife. Just fun, fire, and the understanding that when it was over, it was over. But even as he told himself that, his gaze betrayed him, slipping back to her. Jonathan raised his glass in mock salute. "Whatever you say, brother. Just don't cum in your pants." Damian ignored him, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a mock smile.
Ava spun until her view blurred, laughter bubbling out of her chest before she could stop it. The alcohol warmed her veins, muting the demon's voices in her head. She felt Grace's hand steadying her and Sophie's laughter vibrating against her shoulder. "Girl, you needed this!" Grace shouted over the music, eyes sparkling. Ava grinned, breathless. Maybe she did. Maybe she needed this night to feel something other than disappointment or even get laid by a fine stranger. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as the bass rolled through her. But when she opened them again, her gaze drifted upward, sighting the mysterious man. Toward the darkened booths above the dance floor. Her breath caught when her eyes met his. The man was sitting back in shadow, but she saw enough of a strong jawline, sharp gaze, the kind of presence that stood out even in a crowded room. He wasn't looking at the dancers in general. He was looking at her. Ava's stomach flipped. She tore her gaze away quickly, heat rushing to her cheeks. She told herself it was just the alcohol, just her imagination. Ava forced herself to smile and let go. She didn't need to think about some stranger staring down from above. She didn't need another man occupying her thoughts, but he can occupy her bed tonight if he is worthy lol maybe it's the alcohol talking. But no matter how hard she tried, she could feel his gaze on her back.
Back in the booth, Damian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn't like this feeling of being pulled toward someone who should have been invisible to him. Jonathan was still watching with amusement. "You know what this reminds me of?" he said, swirling the ice in his glass. "That time in Madrid when you couldn't stop staring at the flamenco dancer." "That was business," Damian muttered. Jonathan smirked. "So is this? You planning on negotiating her student loans for her?" Damian shot him a look, but Jonathan only laughed. "Relax. I'm just saying you're staring like a man who doesn't know what to do with himself. If you want to bang her, just go straight to the point. Girls like this are easy to convince."
Damian leaned back. He had more pressing concerns: his grandfather's will, the company. He didn't have the time for distractions. Especially not distractions that came in the form of fragile, pretty brunettes who danced like they were trying to lure men. And yet… he kept watching.
Ava laughed again, but her laughter felt forced. She caught herself glancing upward every few minutes, searching without meaning to. The mysterious stranger was still there, still watching, and something about that turned her more than she wanted to admit. Maybe it was the way his gaze was hungry like someone who wants to devour her tonight. Ava shivered despite the heat of the club, turning her focus back to Grace and Sophie. She told herself she was imagining things. That he was just another man in a club full of predators. But some part of her knew tonight had just started