Four
1265 Words
Raven
My heart thundered so loudly in my ears that I was certain he could hear it.
For a split second, the club disappeared. The music dulled. The lights dimmed. All I could see were his eyes - impossibly blue, sharp and assessing, the same shade I'd memorised a lifetime ago. Nico Moretti stood infront of me like he'd stepped straight out of a ghost I never finished burying.
How had he not changed and still changed so much?
His hands came up instinctively when I stumbled, steadying me before I could even think to catch myself. Strong hands. Familiar hands. My fingers curled into the fabric over his shoulders without permission, gripping muscle that felt too good beneath my touch.
No. Stop that.
My body didn't listen.
Heat surged low in my belly - unwanted, traitorous. I sucked in a breath as his grip tightened just enough to anchor me, his thumbs pressing lightly into my sides as if he'd forgotten where we were. Or as if he didn't care.
My pulse skidded. Did he recognize me?
The question sliced through me, sharp and disorienting. Ten years had passed. Ten years of therapy, of reinvention, of learning how to take up space without apology. I looked different. I felt different. But my bones remembered.
I searched his face, trying to find a flicker - regocnition, cruelty, mockery. There was nothing. Only curiosity. Hunger. Something dark and deliberate that made my skin prickle.
A Cinderella story, flipped and twisted. Masked and dangerous.
I forced my spine straight and hardened my gaze, memories crashing in despite my effort to hold them back. Spaghetti sauce burning my eyes. Laughter echoing down the tiled hallways. Dominic's hands are gripping fabric. The way Nico had watched it all unfold like he owned the world - and me.
My eyes slid past Nico's shoulder. Dominic stood a few feet behind him. The devil himself.
His attention was locked on me with an intensity that made my stomach flip. Not the mocking cruelty I remembered - something deeper. Hotter. Possessive in a way that had no right to exist.
I didn't wait to hear Nico speak. I shoved out of his grasp and disappeared into the crowd.
The dance floor swallowed me whole - bodies grinding, hips rolling, sweat and perfume and desire thick in the air. I let it wrap around me, let it shield me. When I dared to look back through the moving mass of people, they were still there. Watching. Both of them. Like predators who caught the scent of blood.
What were they doing here?
I'd avoided them for a decade. Dodged rooms. Skipped events. Built a life that existed entirely outside of their orbit. I'd survived long enough to reinvent myself - and now they stood in the same space, breathing the same air.
I pressed my fingers to the silk of my mask, grounding myself. It was still secure. I was still anonymous.
Chris. I needed to find Chris.
I found him near a pillar, posture casual, eyes trained toward the far end of the room. A handsome man sat there, drink in hand, watching the dance floor like he was deciding what - or who - to devour.
At least one of us was still enjoying the night.
I slid up beside Chris, forcing my shoulders to loosen, my hips to sway to the beat.
"Why don't you go say hi?" I teased, nodding towards the man.
Chris wrapped his arms around me and we danced together. Moving our bodies along with each song. Chris shook his head, lips twitching. "I'm observing."
I snorted.
Then his gaze flickered behind me. "Who was that you were just talking to? Couldn't see his face but - Damn... That ass."
My stomach twisted. "You're not going to like it..." I said carefully.
His brow lifted as we blended into the rhythm of the crowd. The music pulsed through the floor, vibrating up my legs. "Try me."
"You remember Nico Moretti?"
Chris stiffened. His jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle tick.
"Don't tell me," he said flatly. Emotion lacking.
"Yup."
Anger rolled off of him in waves, Sharp and protective. "Did they say something? Did they touch you?'
"No," I said slowly. "I don't think they recognized me."
His eyes narrowed. "That's... interesting."
We danced closer, bodies moving together in a way that read intimate to anyone watching. Chris's hands settled at my waist, grounding and familiar. Safe.
"Play that," he murmured near my ear, eyes flicking towards the far side of the room. "Use it."
"Use it how?"
"They're staring," he said softly. "Like they want to eat you alive."
I tried to look back, but Chris's grip tightened, guiding me into a slow spin that let me see without making it obvious.
They hadn't looked away. Dominic's gaze burned, dark and sharp, tracking every roll of my hips. Nico stood beside him, posture relaxed, eyes hooded, unreadable - but locked on me like I was a puzzle he intended to solve. My pulse jumped.
"They want you." Chris continued. "And they don't know they already had you once in their grasp and lost you due to their own stupidity."
My breath hitched.
"This is a s*x club," he went on. "Mask. No names. No past. If you want to flip the script - this is your chance."
The idea slithered through me, dangerous and intoxicating.
"You mean..." I trailed off.
"I mean," he said smoothly, "You get what you came here for. You scratch that itch. And you mache them ache a little in the process."
"How do I choose?" I whispered. "Both feels... insane."
My body answered before my brain could - thighs pressing together, heat blooming between them. Chris smiled like he knew exactly what I was thinking. "Who says you have to?"
I shot him a look.
"You told me once," he said quietly, "that you used to imagine Nico as some dark prince who would rescue you."
I scoffed. "I was fifteen."
"And now you're grown," he replied. "And no one here needs rescuing. If anything, they're the ones who should be afraid."
A shiver raced down my spine. I added an extra sway in my hips, letting the music take over. The effect was immediate. Dominic's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to where Chris's hands rested at my waist. Sometheing feral crossed his expression. Satisfaction bloomed.
This was a dangerous game. A dance on the edge of obsession. But for the first time, the fear didn't paralyze me. It thrilled me.
Could I separate the past from the present? Could I take control - and make them feel even a fraction of what they'd once stolen from me?
It was only one night.
I slipped free of Chris's hold and drifted closer to the edge of the dance floor, just enough to be seen. I rolled my shoulders, tilted my head, let my body speak the language it knew well. Dominic noticed immediately. Nico followed a beat later. Their attention tightened, sharpened, focused. I didn't look away.
The shift was instantaneous. However, Nicos' eyes drifted towards the bar, and his gaze turned from erotic to downright dangerous. He looked back at me and the heat I had been admiring from afar returned. He clenched his jaw before whispering something to Dominic. They both whispered angrily towards each other before casting me a lingering glance and turned away.
I shrugged and continued dancing, trying to come up with a plan that would ensure I got what I wanted.
- Writer
