Zara
Later that night
The silence in my room felt heavier than normal. The dim light from my vanity cast long shadows on the walls as I leaned forward, carefully brushing mascara onto my lashes. I was already dressed. Black leather pants hugging my hips, a silky crimson top that dipped dangerously low in the back, and a pair of glittery stilettos that made my legs look like they belonged to someone else. Someone fearless. Someone not constantly watched and judged and locked away like a porcelain doll behind bulletproof glass.
I took a breath, steeling myself before I turned to Selene, who sat cross-legged on my bed, still deciding between two pairs of earrings like this night might change our lives.
"It's really happening," I said. "We're actually being allowed out."
"After three weeks of playing mafia Rapunzel," Selene smirked, lifting a silver hoop to her ear. "I'd say it's overdue."
I smiled, but it didn't quite reach my eyes.
"They only agreed because they know we're going to Obsidian Room," I muttered, grabbing my bag.
"Which just happens to be my brother's club."
"Exactly."
The man who always seemed to know when I stepped outside. He walked like he owned the city and me along with it. I didn't know what to make of Victor Antonov. One moment, he was ice—distant, calculating, never letting me in. The next, he was fire—possessive, protective, making decisions about my life without asking. I'd known him since I was sixteen. Now I was twenty-one and still couldn't figure out if I wanted to slap him or kiss him. Probably both.
"I swear," I said, slinging my jacket over my arm, "If he shows up and ruins this night, I will scream."
"And I'll right there holding your earrings and purse when you do." Selene joked as when headed out.
We made it to Obsidian Room by nine. The line outside snaked down the block—heels clicking on pavement, laughter, clouds of perfume and cologne mixing with the smell of vodka and cigarette smoke. The purple and black neon sign above the door glowed like a bruise against the night sky.
Our guards—courtesy of both our fathers—ushered us around the side, where a thick-necked bouncer gave us a nod and pushed open a steel door that led straight into the VIP lounge. I stepped inside and was instantly hit with heat, sound, and light.
The bass throbbed through the floor like a second heartbeat. Lasers flicked across the dance floor and the air was thick with smoke, sweat, and excitement. Bodies pressed together in rhythm under the flashing lights, and for the first time in weeks, I felt…alive.
"Drinks first," Selene shouted over the music, grabbing my hand.
We slid onto bar stools, and within seconds, the bartender—a wiry guy with tattoos creeping up his neck—was already sliding two glasses across to us.
"Compliments of Mr. Antonov," he said with a polite nod.
"He's not here."
"He knew you would be." the bartender shrugged.
Of course he did.
"To controlled freedom." Selene said, raising her glass.
I clinked mine against hers.
"To pretending we're normal girls for one night."
We drank and for a moment, we danced. Just danced—our bodies moving with the music, the beat, the crowd. It felt good. Freeing. Almost enough to forget we had eyes on us from every corner.
Then came the voice I did not want to hear.
"Zara."
"Kieran," I said as I turned, already groaning. "What the hell are you doing here?"
He looked out of place in a suit, collar open, no tie, but his stance was all business. Selene crossed her arms beside me, already scowling at her soon to be future husband.
"Nice to see you too, ladies," Kieran said dryly. "I have a meeting."
"At a nightclub?"
"It's private and secure," he said, taking a sip from Selene's drink before giving it back to her. "Your precious Victor insisted."
My stomach twisted. "So, he is coming?"
"He's not staying long," Kieran nodded. "Just overseeing a few...interrogations."
"Interrogations?" Selene asked, narrowing her eyes.
Kieran glanced around, then leaned in closer, voice low. "Three guys tried stealing one of our weapons shipments last week. Victor is trying to find out who gave these guys intel. In saying that, he believes that there's a rat in the group."
"What did they take?"
"ARs. Explosives. The kind that shouldn't be floating around unsupervised." he paused. "Someone's running a side operation. Selling to outside buyers. We've already lost two crates and a contact in Milan. Victor thinks it's coming from said rat."
A traitor. Inside the Bratva.
Selene and I exchanged a look.
"I thought things had quieted down since that deal with the Albanians." I stated.
"They had. Until now," Kieran replied grimly as he stepped back, fixing his cuffs. "Well enjoy your night, but don't go far. If something pops off, you'll need to be pulled out fast."
"Can't wait." I muttered.
Kieran disappeared through a hallway leading deeper into the VIP section. Towards the back rooms that weren't for dancing.
"What the hell has been going on lately," Selene exhaled sharply. "Everyone's so on edge."
"I don't know," I murmured, eyes scanning the crowd. "But if Victor's coming, it's not just about weapons."
It never is.
The next hour passed in a blur of dancing, drinks, and dodging guys who didn't know the meaning of personal space. Selene entertained a flirtation with a tall, dark-haired stranger in a tight shirt, while I played the part of a disinterested friend, sipping my second drink and pretending to enjoy myself.
I should've known it wouldn't last, because suddenly, I felt it.
The weight of a gaze. His gaze.
And as I turned, I was right because there he was. Standing just outside the VIP section, in a tailored black suit, the collar of his shirt unbuttoned. His hair was slightly messy like he'd run his hands through it, and his jaw was tight with barely concealed irritation.
Our eyes locked across the crowd and just like that, the air left my lungs.
He didn't speak nor did he wave. He just…watched me.
Possessive. Protective. Annoyed.
I hated how my heart jumped at the sight of him.
"So much for your night off." Selene said, reappearing at my side.
"He's not here for me." I breathed.
"No," she said with a smirk. "But that's not stopping him from watching like you're his next target."