BACK TO BLACK

CHAPTER 6

Roxanne pov.

Growing up, I spent countless afternoons glued to the TV, watching Mabelle and Kai on TV shows. Their childhood shows were stitched into the fabric of my memories—the kind that came with the scent of popcorn and the warmth of a lazy Sunday. In real life, seeing them together should have felt like watching nostalgia come to life.

But the energy between them wasn’t the kind I expected.

Kai’s easygoing smirk faltered briefly before he crossed his arms. "Are you following me?" he asked, his tone casual, but something sharper lurked beneath.

Mabelle’s expression barely flickered before she shot back, "Follow you? I don’t even think bacteria would follow you." Her delivery was smooth like this was a normal conversation they had every day.

Kai’s laughter came quickly, rich with amusement. "Now that’s a lie, Belle," he said, tilting his head slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with a challenge hidden in the curve of his lips.

The tension between them hummed beneath the surface—not quite hostility, but something close. Mabelle sat up straight as he walked to where she sat with Ivy.

Kai stretched out a hand toward Ivy, his usual charm in full force. “I’ve heard so much about the bride-to-be. It’s nice to meet you finally,” he said smoothly.

Ivy’s lips curled into a wry smile, her expression unreadable. “Thanks. I can’t say the same,” she replied, voice light but laced with a teasing smile.

Kai’s brow arched. “You don’t talk about me?” He turned to me, eyes glinting with mock offense.

“Get over it. You’ll live,” I said, playing along. The truth was, I had mentioned him—more than a few times. Ivy had even encouraged me to go out with him. We all knew how that turned out.

Kai only chuckled, shaking his head. “Do you see how they treat me here?” he asked, turning toward Mabelle as if expecting backup.

Mabelle, however, had other plans. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone sharp, cutting right past the casual small talk.

“Here in the club, or here in D.C.?” Kai shot back, his grin unfazed.

Mabelle folded her arms, exhaling through her nose. “I thought we agreed to stay states apart?”

I blinked. “You what?”

She turned to me, waving a dismissive hand in Kai’s direction. “His ego is too big for me to live in New York. I had to move because we couldn’t exist in the same state.”

I smirked. “I thought I was the only one who noticed that.”

That was all it took. Mabelle and I turned it into a full-blown Malakai Savoy roast session, and to his credit, he took it well—too well. He leaned against the bar, soaking in the attention like it was flattery rather than mockery.

“I didn’t know you thought about me this much, Belle,” he mused, letting the name roll off his tongue like an old habit.

I liked the way he said her name, Belle—soft, almost endearing. Mabelle, on the other hand, did not.

“My name is Mabelle,” she snapped, each syllable crisp with irritation.

Kai only smiled, slow and knowing. “I like Belle better.”

There was something in the way he said it—something that made me glance at Ivy. She met my gaze with a smirk, one brow raised in silent commentary. Without a word, she tilted her head toward the dance floor.

I didn’t hesitate.

As we wove through the crowd, I could still hear Mabelle and Kai bickering—or whatever they called it.

“Wow, that energy—” I started, but Ivy cut me off.

“They f****d,” she said, matter-of-fact, like she was reporting the weather.

I almost tripped over my own feet. Leaning in, I narrowed my eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Trust me.” Ivy’s voice was smug, her words confident despite the music pulsing around us. “They still have the hots for each other. I can tell.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but then I caught sight of them again—Kai’s smirk, Mabelle’s glare that looked dangerously close to something else, something unresolved.

Maybe Ivy had a point.

A song I didn’t recognize thrummed through the speakers as we tried to move to its rhythm. I was getting a kick out of the buzz the crowd had created. Ivy grabbed my hand as she led me to the dance floor. I made a fool of myself with my dancing, but I didn't care because everybody was busy minding their own business. Dancing was an art on its own. I knew all to well how it felt to get lost when creating art. Being in your world far away from other people's judgment. And for a while, I let music let me escape.

Darius Pov.

I had planned on having dinner with my siblings and leaving right after. That was the plan.

But Fallon was persuasive, and Kala? Stubborn as ever.

The club was a mess of bodies, heat, and noise—far from the boardrooms I commanded with ease. This was chaos, the kind I had no patience for. Drunk partygoers swayed dangerously close, the bass of the music rattling through my ribs. And worse? The underage kids had somehow slipped past security, their wide-eyed excitement making it clear they had no business being here.

Navigating through the crowd, I tightened my grip on Kala’s hand, guiding her toward the VIP section. She had insisted on coming, and I knew if I hadn’t brought her in myself, she would’ve found another way.

"How do you even enjoy this?" I asked as we finally reached the roped-off area, my voice barely cutting through the music.

"You don’t have the hardware to process that information," Kala shot back, smirking.

I leveled her with a look. "No drinking."

She scoffed, staring at me like I had personally insulted her. "Then why are we even here?"

"Because if I hadn’t brought you, you’d have sneaked in any way."

She didn’t bother denying it. Instead, her gaze flickered over the crowd, landing on something—or someone—that made her tense.

Half of the people here were underage, but I followed her line of sight and immediately understood. Rhona Sterling.

Kala masked her emotions well, but I caught the fleeting flash of hurt in her eyes before she schooled her face into indifference.

"She’s not twenty-one," she muttered.

I shrugged. "She’s not under my guardianship."

"You could go talk to her, you know," I offered.

Kala’s lips pressed into a tight line. "We’re not friends anymore."

A waiter approached, and I ordered both of us mocktails. Predictably, Kala shot me a glare, muttering something about me being a buzzkill. I let her sulk.

Then something made me glance in the direction Rhona had come from. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. And then I saw her.

Even in the dim lighting, I recognized her immediately. Some things you don’t forget.

She was sitting with Ivy and another girl whose face was familiar but whose name I did not recognize. But Rhona looked breathtaking, her curves accentuated by denim shorts that made my throat go dry.

For a second, I thought she was walking this way. My pulse betrayed me, quickening with something I refused to name.

Then, she stopped.

A guy reached her first, pulling her into a hug.

Jealousy coiled tight in my chest before I could stop it. I had no right to feel it, but that didn’t stop the burn. Was she smiling at him the way she used to smile at me? Was it real? I was envious of anything that came in contact with her while I did not.

The guy turned, greeting her friends, his back familiar in a way that made my jaw tighten.

"Just go talk to her," Kala called over my shoulder, sipping from her mocktail.

She had used my own words against me.

I hadn’t even noticed the drinks arriving.

I scoffed, shaking my head. "It’s complicated," I said, the only explanation I could offer at the moment.

Kala wasn’t buying it.

"You don’t have to act tough with me," she teased, pressing a finger against my chest. "Deep down, you’re just a big, cuddly teddy bear."

I arched a brow, glancing down at her. "If I don’t act tough, you’ll have a DUI before you’re twenty-one."

She gasped in mock offense, placing a dramatic hand over her heart. "So you’re not denying it? You’re admitting you’re not as tough as you pretend to be?"

I narrowed my eyes, taking a slow sip of my drink. "I’m admitting that if I let my guard down, you’d wreak havoc on this city."

Kala grinned, tilting her head. "I take that as a win."

Fallon and Knox were making their way over when she suddenly hesitated, her head turning for a double take. But by the time I followed her gaze, Ivy and Rox were already heading downstairs.

A flicker of something—hope? relief?—ignited in my chest as I glanced back at their table. The unfamiliar guy and girl sat alone.

"Was that Roxanne?" Fallon asked, approaching with an arched brow. Behind her, Knox barely looked up from his phone.

"Yeah," Kala answered far too cheerfully. "Darius was checking her out."

"He was?" Fallon asked with a smirk

I shot her a warning glare, but it was useless. She and Fallon were already exchanging smug looks, their silent conversation laced with mischief.

This was about to turn into a nightmare.

Fallon slid into a seat, crossing her arms. "Why are you drinking mocktails?" she asked, scowling at Kala and mine's glass.