Chapter 4 Chapter 4

By the time I reached the main student lounge area near the dorms, the sun was completely gone, replaced by the harsh, artificial glow of security lights. I needed to head straight to the bus stop if I wanted to make my shift at the diner on time, but my feet slowed to a crawl as I passed the grand glass doors of the student union.

A group of girls was standing right outside, bundled up in designer puffer jackets and clutching expensive iced coffees. Chloe Cain was right in the middle of them, her face flushed with alcohol and anger, whining loudly to her friends.

"I'm telling you, he's completely losing his mind this semester," Chloe hissed, crossing her arms over her chest as she reapplied a layer of sticky lip gloss. "He literally told me to move like I was some kind of trash. But whatever. Adrian texted me. They're heading down to The Velvet Viper tonight. Luca's going to be in the VIP section."

One of her friends giggled, leaning in close. "Ooh, the Viper? Are you going to go throw yourself at him again, Chloe?" one of them asked.

"Please," Chloe scoffed, though a desperate little smirk tugged at her lips. "I just need to show him I'm not going anywhere. A few drinks, the right timing, and he'll remember who runs this damn school."

I paused near a stone pillar, pretending to check my phone while every single word sank deep into my brain. The Velvet Viper.

It was an exclusive, high-end underground club downtown where the wealthy elite went to blow off steam, do drugs behind closed doors, and pretend the law didn't apply to them. A place where scholarship kids from the District like me weren't even allowed past the bouncer.

My shift at the diner started in an hour. If I went to work, I would spend the entire night washing grease off heavy ceramic plates, listening to the kitchen manager scream about orders, and feeling safe, boring, and invisible. Or... I could skip the shift. I could call in sick, scrape together the last twenty bucks of cash I had hidden in my mattress, and take the late-night bus downtown.

I looked down at my fraying sneakers, then back up at Chloe and her friends as they strutted toward a waiting black SUV. Luca was going to be at the Viper tonight. And if Chloe thought she was going to corner him in the VIP section, she had another thing coming. Nobody got that close to him. Not because he belonged to Chloe, but because in my mind, the only person allowed in his orbit was me.

A slow, wicked smile spread across my face. I pulled my phone out, dialed the diner manager's number, and lied straight through my teeth about having a vicious stomach bug. Then I turned around, marched back toward the bus stop, and headed straight into the dark heart of Kingsbury.

The neon sign of The Velvet Viper flickered through the damp Kingsbury air, casting a sickly bruised-purple glow across the wet pavement of the alleyway. This wasn’t the pristine marble campus of Veritas or the quiet, beaten-down streets of the District. This was where old money came to rot in style.  The bass from the speakers inside vibrated right through the soles of my beat-up sneakers, it was heavy enough to rattle my teeth.

The bouncer at the velvet rope looked like a brick wall wearing a tuxedo. He took one look at my faded jeans, my oversized black zip-up hoodie with the hood pulled low over my forehead, and the plain black baseball cap shadowing my face, and started shaking his head before I even reached the line.

"Private club tonight, kid. Beat it," he grunted, not even bothering to look down at me.

I didn't argue or beg. Instead, I reached deep into the front pocket of my hoodie, my fingers wrapping around a folded twenty-dollar bill I had scraped together from the grocery jar. I pressed it firmly into his massive, calloused palm, letting my thumb graze his skin with a cold, dead-eyed stare that made his heavy brows twitch in surprise.

"I'm meeting someone inside," I said, my voice dropping an octave, flat and hard.

He closed his fist, pocketed the cash without a word, and unhooked the velvet rope. "Twenty minutes. If you cause trouble, I throw you out the back alley myself."

I slipped past him before he could change his mind, plunging headfirst into the suffocating heat of the club.

The air inside was thick with the stench of expensive perfume, stale alcohol, and sweat. Strobe lights cut through the darkness like laser beams, flashing across writhing bodies on the dance floor. I kept my head down, my cap pulled low, hugging the outer perimeter of the room where the shadows were deepest. My heart was beating a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs from that sharp, electric rush of pure adrenaline.

I scanned the layout. The VIP section was raised on a tiered platform at the back, overlooking the entire floor through a web of dark glass and heavy velvet drapes.

I found a dark, secluded corner near the far end of the bar, half-hidden behind a concrete pillar where nobody could see me. From here, I had a clean, unobstructed line of sight straight into the main VIP booth.

And there he was. Luca walked in about ten minutes later, flanked by Adrian and a couple of other guys from his inner circle. He looked effortless, dangerous, wearing a simple black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing those corded, powerful forearms. He didn't smile as he slid into the corner of a deep, leather-upholstered booth. 

He accepted a glass of amber liquor from a cocktail waitress without looking at her, his eyes scanning the room with that same cold, predatory detachment I had memorized. Adrian laughed, leaning over to say something in his ear, but Luca barely reacted. He just took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like a king looking down at his subjects.

I didn't take my eyes off him. Every second he breathed, every time he lifted his glass, every shift of his shoulders, I drank it in. He belonged to the shadows, just like me. He just didn't know it yet. An hour bled away in a blur of heavy bass and flashing lights. Then, the mood in my chest shifted from cold calculation to white-hot poison.

Chloe appeared at the edge of the VIP section. She had changed out of her daytime clothes into a tight, shimmering silver dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. She flashed the security guard a practiced, flirtatious smile, batted her eyelashes, and slipped right past the ropes like she owned the place.

My fingers curled into tight fists inside my hoodie pocket, my fingernails biting hard into my palms. Chloe didn't hesitate. She walked straight over to Luca’s booth, practically throwing herself into the empty space right beside him on the leather bench.