The Curse of Thirteenth Day

The nightclub blasted the ears of its customers, and they loved it, with infectious music in the center of Lokylily, the city that was always awake. Colored lights flickered in a harmonic exchange, mixed with sweat, cheap perfume, and expensive alcohol. The heavy bass hit the chest and made almost everyone there forget themselves, except for a few drowning in their own pain and disappointment. In that crowd was Alex, driven by alcohol and desire in both mind and body. The glass in his hand was half empty or half full, it did not matter. The world spun at the perfect speed, and he had always liked that feeling. He liked the partial loss of control and the sense of power mixed with chaos. Then he saw the girl who stirred desire deep inside him. Leaning against the bar, wearing a short dress made to provoke. Sharp, dangerous eyes. She was not just beautiful, she was beauty itself. She looked at him. Alex moved closer, slowly. He said something in her ear, the words lost in the music, yet she smiled, a smile full of restrained desire. He touched her waist lightly the first time, and she did not protest. The second time, his touch had intention. Their breathing met, just like their bodies. They danced in sync as if they had practiced those sensual moves together, drawing attention from others around them. Their bodies aligned, rhythm with rhythm, breath with breath. "Dance well..." she murmured, her lips almost touching his ear. "You haven't seen anything yet," Alex replied, his voice rough. She laughed, tilting her head back. Her neck exposed. Vulnerable. Provocative. He leaned in and brushed his lips there. She reacted with a sigh swallowed by the noise. Pressed together, her hands moved up his chest, exploring. Alex pulled her closer without gentleness. She opened her mouth, no sound coming out, pure sensuality overflowing. Their bodies began to collide with more intensity. Desire was no longer hidden. The people around them became irrelevant. "Let's get out of here..." she said, almost like an order. Alex did not hesitate. They pushed through the crowd, laughing, drawing curious looks. The night air hit them like a shock, but not enough to break their state. Rain fell lightly but steadily. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him urgently. He responded the same way. Their kisses were now longer, deeper, filled with alcohol and intention. They almost stumbled together to the car. The still-warm hood became their support. She leaned against it, laughing, her hair already wet from the rain, sticking to her face. "You're crazy..." she said. "I haven't even started," Alex replied. He moved closer again. His hands moved over her body in a rush, as if every second was stolen. She responded, pulling him closer, deepening the moment. The city still existed, but far away. There, under the rain, with blurred lights in the background and the muffled sound of the nightclub echoing, they created their own space. Raw, impulsive, with no promises. Completely out of control. Many people filmed and took pictures, but one young man, shy-looking, stood a bit far away. He took the best photos with his professional camera, unlike the others with their phones. He had technique, control, precision. ... Alexandre Montgomery, known by most as Alex, walked around his mansion bedroom shirtless, moving toward the window after staring at himself in the mirror longer than usual, admiring his now well-defined abs. He looked at the heavy rain falling over Lokylily, the capital of Ludron. His thoughts were fully on the dirty business that brought rivers of money into his pockets, money that gave him immense power, especially as a Montgomery. He was 28 years old, and one of his hobbies was spending hours building an impressive physique and walking, as well as testing his masculinity with most of the young beautiful girls he came across. He also carried the responsibility of leading one of the biggest mafias controlling the city through arms and drug trafficking, and they were close to creating a new drug never seen before: EZERMITTY. Mr. Willer Montgomery, Alex's father, had no idea that his son was involved in such dirty business, nor that the man he raised had become the head of a mafia. Alex turned back to the mirror, adjusting his straight hair that matched his black pants. He made faces, searching for imperfections, when suddenly someone knocked on the door, gently. "Come in!" Alex said without hesitation. A thin young woman, 19 years old, entered quickly, a speed that did not match her soft knock. She was boiling inside. Her face was red, not matching her pale skin. "What is it this time, Jonita?" Alex asked calmly, which only made her angrier. "Are you seriously asking that?" "I am not a mind reader, Jonita. Tell me and I will know. But your face does not look good." "Good that you can see the damage you did to me." "Damage I did to you? What do you mean?" "Alexandre!!!" her anger burst out. "Okay, I see this is serious," Alex said, walking toward her. When he tried to touch her to calm her down, she pulled away violently. "I am being serious and you are making stupid jokes." "That i***t Lortêncio must have told her about what I did with that hot girl from the other city. One day I will deal with him. But I can handle this." Alex thought. "Alexandre, you are not going to say anything?" "Look, Jonita, just say what you came to say. You are getting on my nerves." Jonita took her phone out of her jacket pocket and showed him. It was a photo of Alex with a girl, both almost undressed, on top of a car hood, surrounded by people filming and taking pictures. After seeing the image, Alex stayed silent for a moment, choosing his words. Then he looked up, no surprise in his eyes, only coldness. "This is what brought you here?" he said, almost calmly. Jonita laughed nervously. "This? You call this 'this'?" she stepped closer, trembling. "You are practically exposed there, Alex! With another girl! In public!" He tilted his head slightly, as if searching for depth in her accusation. "And since when are we... a normal couple, Jonita?" The word "normal" hung in the air. She hesitated. Her anger lost strength. "Do not twist things," she said, quieter but still firm. "One thing is what we have done... another is this. This was humiliation." Alex stepped closer but did not touch her. "Humiliation?" he repeated softly. "Or is it the fact that it was not you there?" Silence filled the room. Jonita looked away, as if that hit something deep. "That is not it..." she murmured, without conviction. Alex took advantage. "Jonita..." he said, now softer, more intimate. "We have crossed lines most people would never dare to cross. You know that. You were there... not as a victim, but because you wanted to be." She closed her eyes for a moment, as memories came back. "That does not give you the right to do whatever you want," she replied, but no longer shouting. "It gives me the right to be who I am with you," he answered immediately. "And you always said you liked that. Or are you going to lie now?" She took a deep breath. Her body was no longer tense. "But in public... like that..." she insisted weakly. "In public, there are eyes," Alex said. "And eyes create stories. But we know the truth. Or will you let strangers define what we have?" She did not answer at first. Then he moved closer, and she did not step back. "Look at me, Jonita," he said. She did. In that moment, Alex was rebuilding the narrative. "I do not hide you," he continued. "I do not deny you. You are the only one here now. The only one who walks into this room without asking." Her breathing changed. "That was... impulse. Momentary desire. But you..." he paused. "You are the choice." Jonita swallowed. "And does that choice include respect?" she asked. Alex gave a slight smile. "It includes understanding who we are. No pretending." Another second. Then another. Slowly, Jonita dropped the phone onto the bed. "You are impossible..." she murmured. "And yet you are here," he replied. Alex hugged her, and she accepted. Her defenses were gone. Peace was restored. Minutes later, Alex was already dressed in a dark shirt, buttoning it with precision. His reflection now showed focus. Jonita sat on the bed in silence, still processing. "Are you leaving?" she asked. "Business," he replied shortly. "Always 'business'..." she murmured. He did not answer. He grabbed his keys. "Do not do anything stupid, Alex," she said, not sure what that meant. He stopped at the door, looked over his shoulder, and gave a half smile. "Stupid is getting caught." And he left.