Chapter 2 At the club

Eloise

The pounding bass of the club's music felt like it was vibrating through my bones. I sat at our usual table.

As we waited for the bartender's attention, Ava kept up a steady stream of chatter, her voice a comforting background noise.

"And then he had the nerve to say he didn't like my dress," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Can you believe that?"

I managed a genuine laugh at that.

"Seriously? Who doesn't like your dresses?"

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "Men are idiot."

The bartender finally noticed us, and Ava ordered our drinks. As we waited, I glanced around the club, my eyes drifting over the crowd. That's when i saw him.

He was tall, strongly built, which made his expensive jacket look even more attractive. Every detail about him- his piercing grey eyes, tousled hair, the confident way he moved-i couldn't look away.

Ava, who usually remained unfazed by good-looking men, nudged me with a look of pure astonishment.

"Gosh, did you see that man?" she murmured.

"Oh, I do," I said, unable to mask the breathless tone in my voice. My eyes locked on his, his gaze intense.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible string, he began making his way toward us.

"Eloise," Ava whispered, grabbing my arm. "He's coming over here"

But i couldn't respond. Up close, he was even more striking-grey focused eyes, a hint of stubble, and a calm expression, as if he was entirely comfortable with the effect he had on people.

"Hello," he said, his voice smooth, laced with confidence. "I'm Mike, nice to meet you"

I swallowed, forcing myself to remember how to speak. "Eloise..."

"Eloise," he repeated, letting my name roll off his tongue slowly.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

I felt warmth creep up my neck, and not just from the alcohol. The way he looked at me made it easy to forget my recent heartache.

"Eloise," Ava's voice broke through the haze. "I just got an urgent call-i need to leave. Will you come with me, or are you good here?"

I tore my eyes away from Mike, glancing at her. My instincts told me to go, but the allure of staying here with him was too strong.

"I'll be fine," I reassured her, trying to sound composed. "I can get a chauffeur."

Ava's brows lifted slightly, a knowing look in her eyes, but she nodded.

"Alright. Just... be careful, okay?"

I nodded, the second she left, there was a heat in his stare, something that made me feel dizzy, drawn to him in a way i couldn't explain.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the need to feel something different.

"Your friend seems concerned about you," Mike observed, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"She's like that," I replied, the words feeling loose and unfamiliar on my tongue, courtesy of the cocktails.

"Well, I'm glad she left," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. "It means i get you all to myself."

I felt a thrill ripple through me. I didn't even know this man, but the confidence in his tone, the way he held my gaze, was enough to keep me rooted.

He leaned closer, his hand coming up to lightly touch my arm, a small, intimate gesture that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Dance with me?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and let him lead me to the dance floor. He kept his hand at the small of my back, fingers splayed possessively.

We fell into a rhythm that felt natural, as if we've done this a hundred times.

It wasn't long before i found myself leaning into him, my fingers grazing the lapels of his jacket.

The smell of his cologne, the feel of his hand trailing along my back. His eyes never leaving mine, as though he was savouring every reaction, every small gasp that escaped my lips.

"You're beautiful, Eloise," he murmured, his voice a warm whisper against my ear. "It's like i don't want this moment to end."

"Me either," I whispered back, hardly recognizing the boldness in my own voice.

He pulled me closer, our bodies now fully pressed together, his hand drifting up to cup my jaw. I could feel the heat of his breath as he looked down at me, his lips inches from mine.

Slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. It was a gentle kiss, but as i melted against him, he deepened it, his other hand sliding around my waist, holding me.

I pulled back slightly, breathless, my heart pounding. "You... you're crazy" I managed to say, a small smile breaking through my flushed face.

He smiled back, his thumb grazing my cheek.

"Only if you want me to be."

I felt a laugh bubble up, light and free, and before i could say anything else, he kissed me again, and for the first time in so long, i felt alive.

His touch was gentle but insistent, igniting something deep within me that had been dormant, forgotten.

As we pulled apart, he looked at me with a smile that was both comforting and devastating.

"Let me take you home," he said softly, his voice a tender command.

I nodded, unable to trust myself to speak, knowing that tonight, even if just for one night, I wanted to let go, to lose myself in him. We left the club together, his arm securely around me as if protecting me from the world.

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I woke up with a heavy headache, I had barely slept, the sound of car horns blaring outside.

I blinked, my vision slowly clearing, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn't Ava's apartment.

I gasped.

I sniffed the white sheets that smelled faintly of oud and something else I couldn't place. I tried to sit up, my muscles protesting as I propped myself up on an elbow.

As I scanned the room, my eyes settled on a small, curious detail on the chair across from the bed-a dark, sleek watch, the kind that looked both impossibly expensive laying there.

My breath caught. That wasn't mine. And that definitely wasn't an item i would be bringing into a hotel room.

Did I lodge into the wrong room? Activities from yesterday still blurry.

I grabbed my sunglasses and keys, got dressed and left the hotel room. But as soon as I walked out of the hotel, I was met by the flashing cameras of the paparazzi outside and microphones came thrusting in my face.

The questions came fast and loud.

"Eloise, did you know about the affair?"

"Did you really lose Lucian to your own stepsister?"

"Was he tired of your workaholic lifestyle?"

I could feel my pulse quickening, panic swelling up inside. My first instinct was to push through or to run back inside and wait for them to disappear.

But something held me in place. The pain, the humiliation-I lifted my chin, forcing myself to breathe. "Why should I be the one hiding? I couldn't let them paint me as a pathetic ex-wife. If they wanted answers, I would give them the truth on my own terms.

"I'm sure you're all having a field day with this," I began, my voice calm but sharp, "but there are some things you need to understand."

A murmur went through the crowd, and I could see the reporters leaning in, hanging on my words.

"I won't deny that the betrayal hurts," I continued, keeping my voice steady, "but Lucian's choices and Jennifer's decisions don't define me. They're a reflection of who they are-not who I am."

One of the reporters, a woman in her thirties, stepped forward, holding her microphone closer. "Are you saying you had no idea about the affair?"

My lips twitched into a small, sardonic smile.

Another reporter called out, "Do you regret putting so much into your marriage? Do you think that's what drove him away?"

I stiffened at the question, feeling the sting of its unfairness.

For a moment, there was silence,then the crowd erupted again, begging for more. Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked away.

I managed to navigate through the paparazzi and slipped into my car.