Allyson's POV
The exclusive club exceeded every fantasy Gina had painted for me. Hidden beneath the city's surface, it breathed luxury and forbidden desires. Bass thrummed through my chest while shadows danced across marble floors. This wasn't just a club. This was a playground for those who made their own rules.
Eyes followed me the instant I stepped inside. Rather than retreating, I straightened my spine. Tonight demanded attention. Tonight, I refused to be invisible.
I claimed a spot at the obsidian bar and ordered something that would burn away my hesitation. The first shot scorched my throat, but the second went down smoother. Liquid courage flooded my veins, washing away the timid girl Reagan had discarded.
Around me, bodies moved without shame. Couples pressed against walls, lost in each other. Women commanded attention with nothing more than a glance. They radiated the kind of power I desperately wanted to taste.
I envied their fearlessness, their ability to take what they wanted without apology. My fingers tightened around my glass as I wondered what it would take to feel that invincible.
Then my search ended.
He dominated the VIP balcony like a king surveying his kingdom. Dark hair caught the amber light, framing features that belonged in Renaissance paintings. His midnight suit hugged every angle of his frame, custom-made and flawless. But it wasn't his looks that stopped my breath.
It was his stillness. While everyone else performed, he simply existed. The crowd moved around him like water around stone, drawn to his gravity yet unable to touch him.
Power radiated from his every breath.
My heart hammered against my ribs as our eyes met across the chaos. He was older, dangerous, completely wrong for me. Everything about him screamed warning.
I wanted him desperately.
"That's Michael Jade," Gina's voice cut through my trance. "Forget whatever you're thinking. Men like him don't play games with girls like us. He's untouchable."
Michael Jade. Even his name tasted like sin.
Gina's warning dissolved into background noise. Michael's gaze swept the room like a hunter selecting prey, and when those dark eyes found mine again, time stopped. He studied me with clinical interest, weighing my worth in seconds.
Then he dismissed me just as quickly.
Embers exploded through my chest. How dare he look through me like I was nothing? Like I wasn't worth a second glance?
I knocked back another shot, liquid fire spreading through my limbs. "Watch me," I told Gina, flashing her a smile that felt dangerous.
"Please tell me you're not about to do something stupid," she begged, grabbing my arm.
"By morning, he'll know exactly who I am," I promised, pulling free.
Gina called after me, but I was already moving. Fear whispered at the edges of my consciousness, but I silenced it with another surge of alcohol-fueled confidence. Tonight wasn't about safety. Tonight was about proving I could take what I wanted.
Two mountains of muscle guarded the VIP entrance. They looked like they could snap me in half without effort, but I didn't slow down. I met their stares with unwavering confidence.
"Michael's expecting me," I lied smoothly, praying my voice wouldn't betray my nerves.
The larger guard raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. He turned toward Michael, who glanced back with mild curiosity. When those predatory eyes locked onto mine, my knees nearly buckled.
Michael nodded once. The guards stepped aside.
Victory tasted sweeter than champagne.
The VIP section hummed with muted conversation and restrained elegance. My heels clicked against polished floors as I navigated between leather couches and crystal tables. Men tracked my movement with obvious hunger, but I only had eyes for one.
Michael stood exactly where I'd spotted him, surrounded by women who might as well have been invisible. He radiated boredom, as if their desperate attempts to capture his attention were beneath his notice.
I let my hips sway with each step, channeling every lesson Gina had taught me about commanding male attention. As I approached, I stumbled deliberately, sending my cocktail splashing across his pristine white shirt.
"I'm so sorry!" I gasped, letting genuine panic color my voice.
He looked down at the spreading stain, then back at me. Up close, his presence hit like a physical force. Dark eyes dissected me with surgical precision.
"Don't worry about it," he said, his voice deeper than I'd expected. Rich and controlled, like aged whiskey.
I reached for his shirt instinctively, my fingers brushing the damp fabric. "Let me help—"
His hand closed around my wrist, gentle but firm. Heat shot up my arm from the contact, making me dizzy.
"I can handle it," he said, releasing me slowly.
A younger man materialized beside us, flashing a practiced smile. "Care to dance, beautiful?"
"I'm busy," I replied without looking at him, keeping my focus on Michael.
Michael's eyes narrowed slightly, like he was solving a puzzle. "Do you make a habit of ruining strangers' clothes?"
"Only when I'm nervous," I admitted before I could stop myself.
"What makes you nervous?"
The question hung between us, loaded with possibilities. How could I explain that he made my skin electric? That being near him felt like standing too close to lightning?
"Maybe it's your reputation," I said carefully.
Something flickered across his features. Almost amusement. "What reputation is that?"
"That you don't let people get close," I replied, echoing Gina's words.
He leaned forward, closing the distance between us until I could feel his breath against my ear. My pulse went wild.
"Most people aren't worth the risk," he murmured, his voice like velvet over steel.
The words sent shivers racing down my spine, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. "How do you know? Did someone prove that to you?"
His expression went cold instantly. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by something sharp and warning.
"I don't discuss personal matters with strangers," he said flatly.
Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my heart racing and my pride bruised.
Women flocked to him as he moved through the crowd, but he ignored them completely. Gina had been right about one thing—Michael Jade didn't impress easily.
But that only made me want him more.
Tonight was supposed to help me forget Reagan, prove I wasn't the broken girl he'd left behind. I was going to chase what I wanted without fear or hesitation.
Michael Jade would be mine before sunrise.