Unwillingly Yours.

Chapter 03

It was nearly noon on Friday when Riley and Sam stepped out of Eleganza di Cima, their arms laden with shopping bags. They'd covered most of Lussera Mall, and though it’s been fun, Riley's legs were starting to protest.

Sam, however, looked like she's just getting started. "We didn't get any jewelry yet" she says, heading straight for the next shop.

Before she could get far, Riley hooked her arm through Sam’s, steering her toward the mall’s exit.

Sam tried to resist, pouting slightly. "Let’s just peek inside! We won’t take long."

"Come on, you said the same thing three stores ago. We’ve been here for hours," Riley said still tugging her along. "Let’s grab something to eat."

"Pretty please, we'll spend five minutes, tops" Sam tried again.

Riley rolled her eyes, laughing. But didn't let Sam go, saying, "You said that the last time too."

Sam's apartment was fairly spacious. The living room had a large sofa, a plush armchair, and two bean bags. On the small coffee table, a half-eaten pizza sits beside two empty soda cans. A flat-screen TV hangs on the wall. The kitchen shares the same open space, separated by a counter.

In the living room, a pair of platform boots lie discarded near the bedroom door, where the sound of two women talking drifts out.

Most of their shopping bags were strewn across the queen-sized bed, some with their contents already spilled out. Sam’s wardrobe stood wide open, clothes hanging out of it and scattered on the rug-covered floor in front. Shoes lay in a chaotic pile as Riley rummaged through the mess. Sam, meanwhile, was sprawled on the bed, right in the center of it all, unfazed by the mess.

Pulling out another piece of clothing, Riley quipped, "Are there any of my clothes that haven’t graced your body yet?"

Sam flashed a guilty smile while examining a new claw clip. "We should’ve checked out those jewelry stores, you know."

"We’d have spent our life savings if we stayed any longer,"," Riley replied.

Sam sat up, her straightened brown hair, now with blue highlights, bouncing. "So? YOLO!" She threw her hands in the air dramatically. "Money’s meant to be spent. We could die tomorrow!"

Riley laughed, her dark blonde hair, with its caramel tones shimmering in the light as it fell in soft wavy curls. It looked silky and rich, thanks to their stop at the salon to get their hair and nails done. "You have no concept of saving, do you?" she teased

"I have a concept of treating myself right," Sam shot back with a grin.

Riley rolled her eyes, returning to the wardrobe. As she shifted clothes around, she spotted an old sketchbook tucked away. She pulled it out, surprised. "You still have this?"

Sam was at her side instantly. "Of course! It’s full of so many drawings of me"

Riley opened the book, flipping through the sketches with a small smile.

Drawing had always been her escape. When she was younger, taking away her art supplies was her father’s favorite punishment. She’d been forced to stop for a while. But when she got to college and met Sam, she picked it back up. Lately, though, she hadn’t drawn as much as she used to.

Art was her way of staying sane in her father’s house. Even though she never got to study art further, it was also her way of holding on to her mother, who had been an artist herself.

Her father, Henry, had discarded every piece of her mother’s work after she passed away.

Riley didn’t realize she was crying until Sam brushed a gentle thumb across her cheek.

"You’re going to own your life soon, Riley," Sam said softly. "Very soon." Riley nodded, wiping away the tears and forcing a small smile.

"Look!" Sam exclaimed, bending down to pull out a black leather jacket from the wardrobe.

"I almost forgot I had that," Riley said, taking the jacket.

"It’s perfect for tonight!" Sam clapped her hands, excited, before diving back into their shopping bags.

"What’s happening tonight?" Riley asked, skeptical.

"We’re going out," Sam replied, a little too casually.

"Sam, where are we going?" Riley pressed, not trusting her vague answer

"It’s a surprise!" Sam grinned. "Trust me, you’re going to love it."

~~~~~

"Why do I even bother listening to you or trusting you?" Riley asks the minute they step out of the cab. It’s evening, and they stand in front of a building with a neon sign that reads MYST, with smaller letters below: Club, Bar, Lounge.

"Because you love me and you do trust me," Sam beamed pulling Riley toward the club entrance.

The bouncer gave them a quick once-over, grunts, and waves them inside.

Neon lights bathe the interior, while music thumped steadily in the background.

“We haven’t done this in a while,” Riley says as they head toward the bar.

“I know, right?” Sam agrees. They order drinks, sitting casually in front of the counter.

“We’re here to have fun, Ry. A few drinks, some dancing.” Sam smiled as the bartender mixes their drinks. When he serves them, he slips Riley a note with a wink.

“Maybe a little flirting too,” Sam whispered as they both glance at the number on the paper.

“Or not,” Riley muttered watching the bartender slip an identical note to a petite blonde across the bar. “He must have a stack of these somewhere,” she adds, crumpling the note and tossing it aside.

“Pity. He’s cute,” Sam said, sipping her drink and scanning the room. “But he’s not the only one.”

Riley takes a long drink, the burn in her throat sharpening her senses. She’s dressed in high-waisted jeans and a white fitted sleeveless top, layered under a black leather jacket. Her heeled boots add a touch of edge to the look. She’s left her hair down, silky and bouncing with every movement, while her makeup is subtle—nude tones with a soft peach lip.

Sam, in contrast, sports a dark blue dress with sheer black tights, topped with her own black jacket. Her platform boots give her a few extra inches over Riley. Her makeup is bold—dark, smoky eyes and plum lipstick. The blue highlights in her hair glow under the neon lights, making them stand out even more.

They continue talking, ordering another round of drinks.

"You wanna go dance?" Sam asks, but a man's voice interrupts before Riley can answer.

"Hello, ladies." He stands beside them, flashing a friendly, crooked smile. His hair, appearing ash-colored under the neon lights, curls in soft waves just above his ears. His face is framed by a scruffy beard that adds an air of boyish charm. Above his T-shirt, a few tattoos snake around his neck, contrasting with his easy-going expression.

"I'm Henley," he says, extending a hand toward Riley, who introduces herself. He nods, then turns to Sam, his smile widening cutely.

"And I'm Samantha," she replies with a small smile.

"Nice to meet you." His voice is warm, friendly. "I couldn’t help noticing you two from over there," he adds, jabbing his thumb casually behind him. His eyes stay on Sam, like he couldn't keep them off her. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, seemingly flattered.

Henley faces Riley again. "Would you mind if I steal your friend for a while?"

Sam winked at Riley before answering, "No, she wouldn’t mind." Riley nods in agreement, unable to hold back a grin.

Henley smiles again, taking Sam's hand as she grabs her drink. Together, they walk away, and Sam turns back to Riley, mouthing, Get laid, while making a phone-call gesture. I’ll call you.

Riley laughs, turning back to her drink. Sam’s teasing words echo in her mind as she swirls the liquid in her glass. Her eyes wander toward the bartender, who’s engaged in conversation with a petite blonde. She shakes her head, banishing the thoughts.

The music was steadily increasing, the beat making Riley's mind wander as she sipped her drink. She’s zoning out when someone suddenly takes Sam’s former seat.

"I’ll have a Negroni," a low, smooth voice says, pulling Riley back to the present. She glances at him and immediately notices how he towers over her, even while sitting.

From the side, she can see his features. His skin was a beautiful bronze, complimenting the dark, slightly damp hair that fell forward across his forehead. A shadow of stubble frames his strong jaw. He was on black pants and shirt under a black jacket. He sat very casually and was undeniably attractive.

"You don’t seem very interested in that drink," he says as he reaching for his own glass, his voice firm but unhurried—like someone who’s used to being listened to without raising their tone.

It takes a moment for Riley to realize he’s talking to her. She looks down at her half-finished drink and blinks.

"You seem more interesting," she blurts, surprising herself. Where did that come from?

He turns to face her fully, his forest-green eyes locking with hers, making her breath catch. There’s a flicker of amusement in his gaze, and his full lips curve into a smirk, giving him an air of mischief. There was a ruggedness to him

"Do I?" he asks, the smirk still playing on his lips. "And what makes you think that?" He spoke with a slight Italian accent. Like he'd spent a while away from home.

Everything

Riley takes another sip of her drink, shrugging. “You look like it.”

He c****d an eyebrow "what's your name, cocca?" His drawl wraps around the word, making it sound almost musical.

(Darling)

"I'm Riley"

"Vale.” He stretches out his hand, and she places hers in it for a shake, not failing to notice how warm his palm feels against hers.

The name sounded like it was made for him

He chuckled.

Oh no.

"Did I say that out loud" Sha asks, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"let me buy you another drink Riley" he says instead, meeting her eyes.

Sam’s words echo in Riley’s head: Vale probably wanted to get in her pants. But what did it matter? She really liked dark hair and the way he said her name.