Chapter Three
1005 Words
“How did I get home last night?”
“That reminds me—you owe me for playing the role of a chauffeur.”
“You will be my maid of honor.”
Madison rolled her eyes. “That’s not even happening for another ten years,” she joked.
Clara’s mouth fell open. “I will get married sooner than you think.”
“We can only hope so,” Madison replied.
“Why are you here?” Clara asked again. She finally noticed the worried look on Madison’s face. Beneath their banter, something was bothering her.
Madison looked sideways, checking if anyone was listening.
“What do you know about Desires?”
“The bar?” Clara scrunched her forehead.
Madison stared at her. “Of course, the bar,” she replied. The hangover was clearly still affecting Clara’s ability to think fast.
“It’s a private bar, for the elite and semi-elite.”
“Is that all?” Madison pressed.
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“Do you know the owner?”
“No. What’s going on?” Clara asked, her curiosity piqued.
“I heard it’s a cover-up for the mafia business.”
Clara’s eyes widened. “How did you find that out?”
“I have my sources,” Madison replied. She wasn’t about to reveal them—anyone could be bought.
“I’m going back to the bar tomorrow. I have some digging to do.”
“Don’t go. They’ll notice you sniffing around,” Clara warned.
“What’s it to you? Do you have any intel on the bar?” Madison asked.
Clara shook her head. This was the mafia they were talking about—powerful, well-connected people who wouldn’t hesitate to squash Madison if she got in their way.
“What if you get caught? You’re planning to ask questions at the bar, right?”
“Yeah. Someone there is connected to a case. I’ll get them and put them behind bars,” Madison vowed.
“Let someone else handle this case,” Clara advised.
“That’s an insult. I will get them. I promise.”
Clara sighed. She didn’t have the energy to argue today. “Okay. Since you’ve made up your mind, how can I help?”
“We’ll go to the bar together tonight. No drinking—just watching my back. We’ll ask harmless questions. Dress prettily.”
“When do I not look lovely?” Clara smirked.
“Today,” Madison replied, and they burst into laughter.
---
Madison couldn’t wait for 7 p.m. She had heard that the men did their business on Tuesdays and Fridays.
“I don’t see anyone suspicious. These are just normal people,” Clara commented after an hour, sipping her soda water.
“They’ll come. We just have to wait,” Madison replied.
“Maybe your source was lying.”
Madison groaned. “Do you want to go home?”
Clara nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, but…”
“It’s fine,” Madison replied, watching as her friend exited the bar. Now, she was alone. She decided to wait until people got drunk before asking any questions.
After gathering some basic information—about the bar’s history, its license—she finally attempted to dig into the underground business.
That’s when people moved away.
It was like she was running in circles.
Frustrated, she marched to the bar with her pen and notepad in hand. She pulled out a high bar stool and climbed onto it, the height difference made even more obvious by her heels.
The bartender turned and gave her a professional smile. “Good evening, ma’am. What can I get you?”
“Give her a glass of your most expensive champagne.”
A deep, commanding male voice spoke behind her.
Madison turned to see who it was—a very tall stranger with broad shoulders.
“Coming right up, sir.”
“I’ll pass, thanks.” Madison attempted to leave when he grabbed her hand.
His palm was warm, and she felt the heat spread through her skin. What the hell? She glanced down at their hands. Nice fingers. He could be one of those guys who drugged unsuspecting girls.
She subtly studied him as he took a slow sip of his drink. Never did she think that an Adam’s apple could be sexy.
He was wearing a tailored blue suit, perfectly accentuating his six-pack frame.
And then—he smirked.
He had caught her staring.
“What?” she asked.
“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” he said. His voice was smooth, almost teasing.
He still hadn’t removed his shades.
Who wears sunglasses in a semi-dark environment?
Something told her he was hiding. But from what?
“What’s your name?” she asked.
The stranger smiled. She looked like a new patron, with the face of an innocent cat.
“Champagne, right here, sir,” the bartender said, setting the drink down.
The stranger took a sip before sliding the glass toward her.
Madison hesitated. Then, she did something she never thought she’d do.
She grabbed the cup—and downed it all in one gulp.
In less than a minute.
“Impressive.” The stranger smiled.
“Remove your shades,” Madison instructed, quickly scanning the bar for the people she was waiting for.
“Follow me home.”
Madison’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“I said, follow me home.”
Her gaze trailed over him, sizing him up. “Why should I?”
“Because I asked.”
Madison sneered. “I don’t follow strangers home.”
“Don’t? Or won’t?”
“Both.” She stood, brushing past him. “Thanks for your generosity.”
She turned to walk back toward the lounge, but the stranger grabbed her wrist again.
His thumb rubbed against her skin.
“I’m not a bad—”
She yanked her wrist free before he could finish. Disgusted.
And without another word, she walked away.
- Writer
