Chapter Thirty-One
Laila’s POV
The cold wind cut straight through the thin, dust-covered cotton of my shirt as I stood frozen on the pavement. The metallic tang of dried blood hung heavy in my nose, but the sharp air outside The Golden Velvet did nothing to clear my spinning head. My body was still trembling from the furious exchange with the head security guard, my chest heaving as I tried to swallow down the thick, suffocating lump in my throat.
Every single pair of eyes from the high-class crowd lined up along the golden velvet ropes was fixed on me. Whispers rippled through the line like wildfire. The wealthy patrons sneered, nudging each other with their elbows, pointing at my bare, bruised legs, my torn denim shorts, and the crusty red smears staining my hands.
Before I could for
