Chapter One – The Break
Elara Vance had never believed people when they said heartbreak felt physical.
But now, standing in the middle of her tiny bedroom with her phone clutched so tightly her knuckles turned white, she understood. Her chest ached with a sharp, stabbing pain, like something vital inside her had cracked. Her throat burned from holding back a scream, and her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall.
The message on her screen mocked her. Four words—short, careless, and devastating.
Sorry, babe. Didn't mean for you to find out this way.
She read it again, as if the words would somehow rearrange themselves into something else, something less cruel. They didn't. They just sat there, staring back at her, confirming everything she already knew but hadn't wanted to face.
Her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had cheated on her.
With someone she knew.
The image that had popped up on her feed an hour ago replayed in her mind like a twisted film reel. His arm draped lazily around another girl's shoulders, his lips pressed to hers as though Elara had never existed. The worst part wasn't even the kiss—it was the casualness of it, the ease, like he'd been doing it for weeks. Maybe months.
Three years of her life. Gone.
Her phone buzzed again, another message lighting up the screen.
It's not what it looks like. We should talk.
Elara let out a bitter laugh that turned into a half-sob. "Not what it looks like? You've got to be kidding me." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she pressed the heel of her hand to her mouth to keep from falling apart completely.
A soft knock came at her door before it swung open, and Rosy, her roommate and best friend since freshman year, peeked in. Rosy's hair was a mess of curls piled on top of her head, her oversized sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder, but her sharp hazel eyes took in Elara's face instantly.
"Oh, no," Rosy said softly, stepping inside. "What happened?"
Elara shoved her phone into Rosy's hands, unable to say the words aloud without breaking. Rosy's brows furrowed as she read the message, then her mouth twisted into a scowl.
"That absolute dick."
The bluntness made Elara laugh again, but it came out hollow, broken. "Three years, Rosy. I thought he—" Her voice caught, and she shook her head. "God, I'm so stupid."
"Hey." Rosy crossed the room in two strides, pulling Elara into a hug that was warm and firm and exactly what she needed. "You're not stupid. He's just trash. And honestly? Good riddance. If he could do this to you, he doesn't deserve you."
Elara clung to her friend for a moment, trying to steady her breathing. Rosy smelled faintly of vanilla lotion and coffee, grounding her in a way nothing else could.
When Rosy pulled back, there was a determined glint in her eyes that Elara knew too well. It meant trouble.
"You're not staying in here to cry over him," Rosy announced. "We're going out."
Elara blinked. "Out? Like… where?"
"Clubbing." Rosy's grin was wicked. "We're going to get you dressed up, looking like the goddess you are, and we're going to make him a distant, blurry memory. No more tears."
Elara groaned, sinking onto the bed. "Rosy, I don't think I can. I've never even been to a club. You know that. And drinking? Not really my thing."
Rosy plopped down beside her, grabbing her shoulders. "Which is exactly why you should come. You need one night, El. One night where you're not the girl whose boyfriend cheated, but the girl who owns the room."
Elara hesitated. The idea of walking into a crowded, noisy club while her heart still felt raw sounded like torture. But Rosy's determination was relentless, and deep down, Elara knew sitting in her room wallowing would only make things worse.
"Fine," she said at last, exhaling. "One night."
Rosy's squeal nearly burst her eardrums. "Yes! You won't regret this."
---
Two hours later, Elara barely recognized herself in the mirror.
Rosy had insisted on doing her makeup—soft but sultry, with a smoky edge to her green eyes and a glossy sheen to her lips. Her auburn hair had been coaxed into loose waves that brushed her shoulders. And the dress—oh, the dress—was one of Rosy's own. Black, short, and clinging in ways Elara would never have dared on her own.
"Rosy, this is way too much," she protested, tugging at the hem.
"It's perfect," Rosy countered, sliding into her own crimson dress that shimmered under the light. "Trust me. Men will be drooling, and you'll be too busy having fun to even notice."
The Uber ride to the club was filled with Rosy's chatter and Elara's nervous silence. By the time they pulled up to the neon-lit building pulsing with bass, Elara's stomach twisted with both dread and anticipation.
The bouncer gave them a once-over, then waved them inside without hesitation.
The club was chaos—lights flashing, bodies moving in rhythm to the pounding music, the air heavy with perfume, sweat, and alcohol. Elara's senses were overwhelmed instantly.
"Relax," Rosy yelled over the music, tugging her toward the bar. "We'll start slow."
Elara perched on a barstool, gripping the counter like a lifeline. Rosy ordered two drinks without hesitation, sliding one toward her.
"I don't—"
"Yes, you do," Rosy cut her off with a grin. "It's just one. You'll be fine."
Elara lifted the glass, hesitating before taking a sip. The burn of alcohol was sharper than she expected, making her cough, but Rosy laughed and urged her to try again. After the third sip, warmth spread through her chest, loosening the knot in her stomach.
By the time she finished the drink—and then half of another—her head felt light, the edges of the room blurring pleasantly. She even found herself laughing at Rosy's exaggerated dance moves near the bar.
Maybe this wasn't so bad.
But then, like a cruel twist of fate, her gaze caught on a familiar figure across the room.
Her heart dropped.
It was him. Her ex.
And he wasn't alone.
The girl from the photo clung to his arm, giggling into his ear. They looked like a perfect couple, radiant and carefree, as if Elara had never existed.
Her stomach lurched violently. The alcohol in her system churned, and for a moment she thought she might be sick right there on the spot.
"Elara?" Rosy followed her gaze, her expression darkening. "Are you kidding me? He's here? That son of a—"
"I—I need to go," Elara stammered, pushing away from the bar. Her legs wobbled slightly, but she forced herself toward the back of the club, desperate to get away from the sight.
She stumbled through a narrow hallway, past a glowing restroom sign, her head spinning. She just needed a moment, a breath of quiet away from the noise, the flashing lights, the memory of his lips on someone else's.
Her hand fumbled with a door handle, and she pushed it open, expecting the harsh fluorescent light of the ladies' restroom.
Instead, darkness greeted her.
The air inside was cooler, quieter, thick with a different kind of tension. She blinked, trying to adjust, but the alcohol made everything sluggish. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her in.
"Hello?" Her voice was shaky, uncertain.
No answer. Only the faint thrum of bass vibrating through the walls.
She took a step forward, her heel catching slightly on the carpet. Her heart pounded, part fear, part disorientation. She knew she should turn back, find Rosy, but her body didn't seem to want to move.
Somewhere in the shadows, a presence shifted.
As she reached for the light switch, a strong hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. She turned to face the intruder, her heart pounding in her chest.
A tall, muscular figure loomed in the shadows, his eyes piercing and intense. 'You shouldn't be here,' he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent a jolt of electricity through her. Before she could react, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her neck. She could feel his breath, hot and heavy, as he whispered, 'I've been waiting for you.' He picked her up effortlessly, carrying her towards the bed in the corner. She could feel her heart racing, her body responding to his touch despite her initial fear. She was trapped, but there was a thrill in it, a dark, forbidden allure that she couldn't deny. As he laid her down on the bed, she knew she was in for a night she would never forget.
'Who are you?' she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper. He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that sent a shiver down her spine. 'You can call me the Mystery Man,' he replied, his voice a low purr.
Elara's breath hitched as the Mystery Man moved the bed, positioning it in the center of the room. The flickering light cast eerie shadows on the walls, but she couldn't look away from the man looming over her. He was a study in contrasts, his eyes burning with a primal intensity that made her heart race, yet his touch was gentle as he lifted her legs, spreading them wide. She felt a rush of embarrassment and excitement, her body responding to his dominance despite her initial fear.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "You're a virgin, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. She nodded, her cheeks flushing. He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that sent a jolt of electricity through her. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he promised, his hands trailing up her thighs, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties.
Elara felt a wave of nervousness, but also a thrill. She had never been with anyone before, and the thought of this mysterious man being her first sent a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through her veins. She watched as he unbuttoned his jeans, his eyes never leaving hers. He was hard, his erection evident through the thin fabric of his boxers. She felt a sudden rush of wetness between her legs, her body responding to the sight of him.
He hooked his fingers into her panties, pulling them down in one smooth motion. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but there was something exciting about it too. He ran his fingers over her, tracing the folds of her sex, his touch gentle yet firm. She gasped, her hips arching off the bed as he found her clit, rubbing it in slow, circular motions. She could feel her body responding, her muscles tensing as pleasure built inside her.
He leaned down, his tongue replacing his fingers, licking and sucking her clit. She moaned, her hands fisting the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over her. He continued to lick and suck, his fingers sliding inside her, stretching her tightness. She felt a pang of pain, but it was quickly replaced by pleasure as he moved his fingers in and out, his tongue still working her clit.
He moved up her body, his cock pressing against her entrance. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. He smiled, a reassuring smile that made her feel a little better. "I'll go slow," he promised, his voice a low purr. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock pressing against her tightness. She felt a moment of panic, but he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. "Relax," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm.
She took a deep breath, her body relaxing as he slowly pushed inside her. She felt a sharp pain, her body tensing as he filled her. He paused, giving her time to adjust, his eyes never leaving hers. She could feel every inch of him, her body stretching to accommodate him. He was big, and she felt a moment of discomfort, but the pain was quickly replaced by a strange, intense pleasure.
He began to move, his hips thrusting slowly, his cock sliding in and out of her. She gasped, her body adjusting to the new sensation. He leaned down, his lips capturing hers in a passionate kiss. She could taste herself on him, a heady mix of sweet and salty that made her moan. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hips moved faster, his cock thrusting harder.
She could feel the pleasure building inside her, her body tensing as she approached the edge. He broke the kiss, his eyes locking with hers. "Come for me," he growled, his voice a low command. She felt a surge of pleasure, her body convulsing as she came, her inner muscles clenching around his cock. He groaned, his hips thrusting harder, his own orgasm following hers.
He collapsed on top of her, his body slick with sweat. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, his breath hot on her neck. He rolled off her, pulling her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She felt a sense of peace, a contentment that she had never felt before. She had just lost her virginity to a stranger, but she felt no regret, only a strange, exhilarating sense of adventure.