HER POV,
Everywhere, The Velvet Room pulsed with life. On a raised platform, a couple moved against each other as though they were extensions of the music—hips rolling, hands clutching, teeth grazing shoulders slick with sweat. Behind them, another pair lounged on cushions, lips locked in a kiss that was half-fight, half-surrender, their bodies coiled together in an endless knot.
The lights shifted—violet, crimson, gold—and each color struck me differently. Violet made my skin tingle, crimson throbbed low in my belly, and gold seemed to set every drop of sweat in the room on fire. I blinked hard, but the colors bled into everything until Amila herself was glowing in shades I couldn’t name.
She pulled me past the curtains, deeper, deeper still. Each step was a surrender. The further we w
