I sat at my desk, a grand mahogany piece with delicate carvings winding along its legs. My eyes simmered behind my glasses as I stared at the glowing laptop screen flickering before me. Golden sunlight filtered in through the towering bay windows, casting intricate patterns over the plush Persian rug stretched across the marble floor.
My fingers snuck underneath the rims of my glasses, massaging my eyeballs. The exams were fast approaching, and I needed to brush up on my books. I could never be too prepared. But I’d spent so much time sitting at this desk. Reading.
It wasn’t like I had anything better to do anyway. The goal was to succeed at all costs and make my father proud. There was absolutely no room for distractions, and failure was not an option. I could feel my eyes gradually becoming heavy, a slight pang swelling at the back of my head.
A quiet groan escaped my lips, and I leaned back in my chair, my fingers plucking off my glasses. The scent of my freshly brewed coffee wafted into my nostrils, stealing my gaze for a fleeting moment. I reached out and grabbed the mug by the handle, taking a few gulps, its flavors exploding on my tongue.
I heaved a deep sigh, rolling my neck in a massaging motion while my free hand smoothed my hair back. It was no secret that I was pushing myself to the limits, and as much as I knew my body needed some time to rest and unwind, the fear of failure always kept me on my toes.
But what else was there to do in this lonely and boring mansion? This place was practically a prison, its high walls suffocating me each day. My routine was always the same: wake up in the morning, go to school, return home, eat, study. My leisure activities were jogging, napping, and strolling around the garden. Nothing new ever happened, nothing exciting whatsoever. And in all honesty, I’d gotten used to how boring and very predictable my life had become.
Freedom was another concept that was alien to me, considering the ever-present security details roaming the house. I couldn’t so much as wander off in the vast compound without those commandos constantly breathing down my neck.
God, I hated it! I hated being watched like a child who couldn’t tell her left from her right. It was frustrating and so annoying at times. But regardless of how much I loathed it, I knew it was Dad’s way of protecting his only daughter. Besides, it wasn’t like I had a say in it or anything.
I just needed a distraction at this point—something to help ease my mind and my stress. The moment I had that thought, I heard my phone ring on the table, stealing my attention. I leaned forward, and a smile played on my lips as my eyes fell on the caller’s identity.
It was my friend and classmate, Ayla Carter, an intelligent and independent young girl, so full of life. She was the classic sunshine girl, the one with the vibes and a knack for getting into trouble. Ayla was the light in my dark days—and all my dark days were dark, if I was being honest. Her free spirit and jovial nature were major reasons I hadn’t fully fallen into depression.
Each time I was stressing over something, she would sense it and show up or call my phone. I wasn’t sure how she always did that, but I was grateful to have her as a friend—a sister.
“Hey, Ayla,” I said, clasping the phone over my ear.
“I can almost hear the books sucking the life out of your soul,” she said, her tone mild and teasing. “You’ve been studying all afternoon, haven’t you?”
I chuckled, rubbing my eyeballs. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“Oh, in your case, trust me, it is,” she said. “You’re not the only student in the world, you know? You’re taking this law thing too seriously.”
I sighed, scratching the back of my head. “Ayla, come on, don’t be ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous is that you’ve been cooped up in that palace of a study all week. You need a break, sister,” she explained, her voice rising a bit higher than usual.
“I do take breaks. In fact, that’s why we’re having this conversation right now,” I declared, my tone defensive.
“Wow! You made a joke. Very funny,” came her sarcastic response. “Look, you and I both know that you’ve read those books countless times. I think they should have your name in the acknowledgements.”
I laughed, reclining in my chair. “Ayla, listen—”
“Ah-ah,” she cut me off. “Don’t ‘Ayla, listen’ me. Now, shut up and pay close attention.”
At this point, I knew whatever she said would definitely not go down well with me. She was a rebellious one, and most of her ideas and suggestions often landed us in trouble. I knew this for sure, but the only problem was that she had a hold over me. I couldn’t say no to her, no matter how hard I tried. Therefore, I could only hope that whatever she had up her sleeves wouldn’t require so much courage from me.
She went ahead, “So, there’s this exclusive club downtown….”
“Oh, God, no!” I mumbled under my breath, fingers rubbing my tired eyes.
Ayla continued regardless, “…it’s the kind with velvet ropes, ridiculously overpriced drinks, and the music—damn! The music makes you feel so alive.” Her voice was laced with enthusiasm and sheer excitement. “We have to go!”
“Uh…I don’t—I don’t know…” I drawled lazily, my breath ceasing for a moment.
“Maybe you didn’t quite hear me. That wasn’t a request,” she blurted out, clarifying the situation.
I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking of ways to get out of this trap. “Ayla, come on, exams are coming up, and—”
She cut me off, “…and you need a break before you turn into a walking, talking textbook.” She paused for a moment. “A few hours of dancing, partying, and pretending to be regular law students won’t hurt your grades.”
I blew a raspberry, feeling my conviction gradually fading away.
“And guess what?” Her question was rhetorical, but I provided an answer anyway.
“You already have a dress picked out for me.” I raised my brows in question.
“Bingo!” She chuckled on the other end of the line. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
And just like that, she stripped me of my choice, leaving no room for further arguments. However, as incredibly annoying as Ayla could be at times, she was right about one thing: I needed a break. Being around ecstatic young adults—wild and free—would do me a lot of good. One little night of fun wouldn’t hurt me or my precious grades.
“Oh, and if you decide to change your mind at the last second and refuse to come out, I swear to God I will show up at your doorstep and drag you out myself if I have to.” Her threats couldn’t be any more glaring, her tone mild yet carrying a hint of solemnity.
I chuckled. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”
“You better not.” She heaved a sigh. “Get ready, babe. Tonight, we conquer!” She hung up before I could even utter another word.
I lowered the phone from my ear and stared at the screen. I shook my head, a reluctant smile playing on my lips. Honestly, having a fun time with my best friend didn’t sound so bad. However, my only concern was whether or not we’d get into trouble tonight. Ayla had a way of intentionally or unintentionally landing us both in trouble almost every time we went together.
She loved the thrill that came with it—the rush of adrenaline. Me? Not so much. I liked my peace and quiet, but clearly, that wouldn’t be the case tonight.
***
I could feel the lively, upbeat music vibrating beneath me, the throbbing base crawling up my spine. The space was wild, filled with writhing bodies and a sea of frenzied faces, hypnotized by the DJ’s incredible mix.
It was so loud in here that I could barely hear Ayla’s voice, even though she was standing beside me. Her mouth was moving, and her hands demonstrated her words, but I struggled to hear her—to understand what she was saying.
“What?!” I asked, raising my voice, my head leaning in close.
She shouted her response, but I still couldn’t hear her.
“It’s so noisy, I can’t hear you!” I said, louder this time. My eyes focused on her bright red lips as I attempted to decipher her words.
Ayla’s voice soared above the din as she yelled, “I said, I wanna dance. You wanna join?!”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good!”
She smiled at me, moving her body to the rhythm of the beat while retreating to the dance floor. “Suit yourself. I’m going to have some fun!”
My lips twitched at the corners, fingers wiggling at her before she turned around and threw her hands in the air. Ayla joined the crowd of dancers, her hips swaying in a way that immediately drew attention to her. Her hair whipped back and forth, and her alluring legs moved in sync with the music.
Ayla’s knee-length black dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her curves and contours. While she danced, her simple yet classy moves seemed to attract a lot of eyes from both men and women alike. As the life of the party, she was once again the center of attention—in the spotlight.
I loved her carefree nature and how she seamlessly blended in with any crowd. A smile played on my lips as I shook my head and shifted my gaze to my immediate surroundings.
Dim lights flickered overhead—deep purples, blood reds, and flashes of silver all cast shifting shadows across the opulent interior. Velvet booths lined the walls, half-swallowed by smoke and secrecy. Directly above the dance floor, a dazzling chandelier refracted fractured lights onto the glittering crowd below.
As my gaze swept across the space, I drank in the sea of familiar faces—sons and daughters born into power and danger. These were the children of the societal elites, heirs to empires built in blood and silence. I moved through the haze like a shadow in silk, my gaze cataloging the faces in the crowd.
Dangerous mafia men camouflaged as influencers sealed deals with crooked smiles and calculated glances, coded handshakes and unspoken words. While the music played on and the crowd danced, I spotted a few men roughing up a man at a corner. No blows were thrown yet, but I knew a life-threatening situation when I saw one.
Judging by the way the victim was surrounded by those men with mean faces and the glint of fear in his eyes, it was clear that he was being warned about something. I had been in this world long enough to understand the importance of minding my own damn business. I knew the rules—Father’s rules: Look but don’t engage.
As gracefully as I could, I headed toward the bar, balancing carefully on my heels. However, while sashaying to get a drink, I sensed a shift in the air around me—a presence. Something so dark and sinister that it made my skin crawl. It was as if an antenna in my brain had picked up a signal, warning me of something dangerous lurking nearby.
I paused in my tracks, eyes discreetly sweeping across the vast, opulent expanse, and that was when I spotted him in the VIP area. He lounged on a couch, a glass of whiskey or vodka in his hand. His blue eyes, cold and hollow, pinned on me like a hook to a fish. His dark hair, styled to perfection, simmered under the vibrant colors flashing across his features.
This man, exuding an air of quiet menace, wouldn’t take his eyes off me, nor would his unreadable expression soften even by a whisper. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip without breaking his gaze.
I felt my heart skip a beat as his intimidating gaze met mine, his frightening eyes boring into my own with a threatening intensity that left me rattled for a moment. I recognized him. He was the enemy, the man who accused my father of stealing his shipment.
Nikita Tarasov.
My jaw clenched, eyes narrowing before I looked away and continued my journey to the bar. The last thing I wanted was to be cornered by that sick bastard. Although I doubted that he even recognized me or knew my name, despite the fact that both our families had crossed paths a couple of times in the past.
I honestly hoped that he didn’t remember me and wouldn’t do so later. He was the last person I was interested in tonight, but even as I walked away, I could still feel the weight of his gaze lingering.
