Mesmerised by the Alpha

Chapter 36. Pink Limos and Neon Lights

Kaci and I stepped into the lift where Jordan was already waiting, leaning against the mirrored wall with a grin.

“Wow, you two are knocking it out of the park tonight,” he said, looking us both up and down with playful admiration. “I don’t know who’s going to break more hearts—Jas or Kaci.”

I laughed, a flutter of confidence stirring in my chest. It had been far too long since I’d dressed up for a proper night out. I’d been nervous at first, unsure if I’d still know how to feel… fun. But Jordan’s easy charm helped settle my nerves.

We exited through the hotel’s front doors—and froze.

Two enormous pink party limos were parked just outside, gleaming under the soft glow of the porch lights. Each had a suited chauffeur standing beside it, looking like they’d just stepped out of a music video. But the real surprise was Nate, who stood by them, hands in pockets and a smirk curling on his lips.

“Told you we were starting the night in style,” he said, his eyes trailing over me slowly—appreciatively. A part of me flushed under his gaze, heat blooming beneath my skin. I wasn't sure I liked it… but I didn’t not like it, either.

“No. Freaking. Way!” Kaci squealed, grabbing my hand as we both did a little jump of excitement. “You absolute legend!”

As if on cue, the rest of the group started filtering out of the hotel. Daryl appeared first, looking sharp in a navy shirt that brought out his eyes, paired with grey tailored trousers. He immediately drew whistles and teasing remarks from Kaci and me.

“Damn, look at you!” I said with mock-seriousness. “Who knew you could scrub up so well?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. “Even I dress to impress sometimes.”

Then came George—and Kaci’s reaction was priceless. Her mouth actually dropped open.

He looked nothing like his usual rugged self. Gone were the check shirts and mucky chinos. He wore a deep burgundy shirt, unbuttoned just enough to show off his toned chest and a hint of a tattoo I hadn’t seen before. Black trousers, polished shoes—it was like watching a man step out of a cologne advert.

“Whoa, George!” I grinned. “Talk about transformation. We’re impressed.”

George laughed, scratching his beard. “Thought I’d give the chainsaw a break tonight.”

I elbowed Kaci gently, catching the way her eyes clung to him like static.

Finally, Stella made her entrance.

She was last, of course—always needing the spotlight. Her hair was scraped into a sleek bun, and she wore a black dress cut daringly low, dipping from chest to navel, held together by sheer confidence and probably a prayer. Six-inch stilettos completed the look, clicking sharply against the pavement as she strutted up.

“Well,” she said coolly, “are we leaving, or are we just going to stand around gawping?”

“Now that you’ve graced us with your presence, we can,” Nate replied, a touch too dryly.

Inside the limo was like stepping into a disco dream: glittering mirror balls, neon lights pulsing with colour, and plush leather seats that hugged us as we sank in. Two ice buckets brimmed with champagne, which Nate and Daryl popped almost simultaneously, laughter echoing off the ceiling.

The drive to the club was chaos in the best way. Music thumped through the speakers, bass vibrating through our chests. We clinked glasses, sang along to throwback anthems, and let the champagne do its work. The outside world blurred, and for the first time in a while, I felt light.

When the limo finally pulled up, we were buzzing.

Outside, rain began to mist lightly from the sky, dotting the pavement with silver freckles. A neon green sign glowed above the entrance: SINATRAS. A line snaked down the block—this place was clearly the spot.

“Ugh, I am not queueing in this,” Kaci moaned, tugging her tiny jacket tighter. “My makeup will melt off!”

We linked arms, bracing ourselves for the walk to the back of the line—until someone called out my name.

“Jasmine—is that you?”

I turned to find Dean—my personal trainer—standing by the velvet ropes. He was dressed in black with a discreet earpiece, his bulky arms folded, looking every bit the intimidating bouncer.

“Dean?” I blinked. “You work here?”

“Weekends,” he grinned. “Gotta put these biceps to use somehow.”

Kaci leaned in flirtatiously. “Well, they’re not going to waste.”

We all laughed as Dean unhooked the rope.

“No need to queue. You lot come straight in.”

Daryl clapped him on the back as we passed. “Cheers, mate. Lifesaver.”

Inside, the club was unreal.

Split across two levels, it shimmered with energy. To our left, a vast bar stretched under hanging glass lights, already packed with revellers. A sweeping balcony circled above the main dance floor, where bodies moved in a sea of rhythm. On the far wall, the DJ booth pulsed with light, flanked by twin staircases that led down to the action. A second bar hugged the DJ’s left, while on the right, behind a glass partition, was the VIP area—complete with booths, dancing poles, and a glowing sign that read simply: VIP.

Kaci and I leaned against the railing, taking it all in.

“Okay, this place is next level,” she murmured.

“Seriously. This is not what I expected when I signed up to help run a hotel in the middle of nowhere,” I replied.

The others filtered in around us. Some of the construction crew made a beeline for the main bar. Jordan and Daryl reappeared by our side, grinning.

“Ladies,” Jordan said, “your personal trainer is apparently George’s old gym buddy. Small world, huh?”

Kaci’s eyebrows shot up. “That I did not see coming.”

“Anyway,” Daryl added, “they’ve sorted us some VIP booths. Courtesy of the club owner, apparently. Jas, we owe you.”

“Don’t thank me,” I laughed. “I think George is the real VIP tonight.”

We followed the crowd toward the roped-off section. A guard didn’t even flinch as we approached—he simply lifted the velvet rope and gestured us forward.

“This way, please,” he said, nodding toward a smiling hostess in a smart dress.

Kaci leaned toward me. “I kinda feel like a celebrity.”

“You are one. At least for tonight.”

We were led to three enormous circular booths tucked in a corner of the VIP section, overlooking the whole club. Within moments of sitting down, four women appeared, dressed in sharp tuxedo corsets and heels, each carrying ice buckets brimming with every type of alcohol imaginable.

“Compliments of our owner,” the hostess said with a wink before disappearing.

Nate blinked. “Anyone else wondering why we’re being spoiled?”

“Don’t question it,” Stella said, already popping the cork on a bottle of Moët. “The owner clearly has taste. This is the real stuff.”

We drank. We laughed. The beat of the music pulsed through my veins like electricity. When one of my favourite songs came on, I grabbed Kaci’s hand.

“Come on! This is our moment!”

We slipped onto the main dancefloor, surrounded by a whirl of coloured lights and swaying bodies. Our arms lifted, our hips moving in time with the rhythm. For a moment, it was just us and the music.

George and Kaci started dancing close together, and though his moves were a little stiff at first, she took charge—placing his hands on her hips and guiding him through it. Her eyes sparkled.

Jordan owned the floor like he’d been born there, twirling and popping to the beat, while Daryl and I found a steady two-step we could both manage. I laughed, truly laughed, losing myself in the moment.

I hadn’t felt this alive in ages.

Eventually, I peeled away, the dancing and champagne catching up to me. I headed toward the bar, needing something cold. I waited patiently, watching the bartenders dash back and forth like they were in a timed game.

“Malibu and Coke, please!” I called once I caught one of their eyes.

As I waited, a voice behind me slid through the noise like velvet.

“I knew it. So you are a party girl.”

Goosebumps broke across my arms. My skin tingled, the air behind me heating with familiar energy.

I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.