Chapter 2

Alani Lane

"Please don't stop on my account," I spoke in a calmness that even I didn't know I could possess at such a time.

Shane pulled his jeans up fast, the belt still dangling, and then attempted to walk towards me. "Alan—"

I raised my hand in the air, a sharp glare stopping him in his tracks. "Don't come any closer," I warned under my breath.

"It's not what it looks like," Shane muttered, his words eliciting a bitter chuckle from my mouth.

"Of course," I nodded. "Every cheating motherfucker says that." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

I didn't move, not even a stumbling step backward. "How long?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shane blinked, his mouth opening and closing. "Alani, please," he pleaded, running a hand over his face.

"How fucking long?" I dragged the words, pronouncing each syllable harder. "We've been engaged for a year. Was it before the proposal or after?"

His eyes darted quickly to Caroline, then to the floor. "Two months," my stepmother blurted out, her gaze directed on the floor.

"Shut up!" Shane shouted, sending a sharp stare at her, then softened it when he looked at me. "Don't listen to her, she is lying. I swear it just happened; it's a one-time thing. I don't even know what came over me," he blabbered, distancing himself further from the woman I thought had my best interest.

I chuckled, a cold, low sound. "One-time thing, you say?" I asked, my nostrils flaring when Shane shamelessly nodded.

I scoffed. "You really think I am stupid."

I turned my attention to Caroline, words escaping me as I let my eyes roam over her face. Her lips were swollen, her hair dishevelled and her blouse unbuttoned. Have you ever looked at someone and just shaken your head? That is what I did, racking my brain for something to say. "You lied to me that you were going to the countryside to visit your mother," I finally spoke to her. She had indeed said she'd be visiting her 70 year old mom, who over the years had become my favourite grandmother after my dad's mother passed on.

"I didn't know that a meeting in Florida and a visit to the countryside are other names for cheating sex in Vegas," I mocked, looking at both of them. Two faces, the same ones I would have never thought would hurt me, betray me in the worst way possible.

"Baby, you know I love you," Shane stated, his voice breaking. Instead of answering, I pulled his ring off, swallowing hard.

"Please don't take it off, I can explain." His pleas fell on deaf ears as I gently walked to the coffee table and placed the piece of jewellery on it.

"There." I looked at it, the light shining on the 8-carat diamond head. "You can now give it to her, with my father deceased, she is free to remarry." I smoothed the sleeve of my blazer, the gesture keeping my hands from shaking. I gave them one last look, then turned to leave, holding my head high. There was no way I was going to let myself break down in front of them.

"Oh, and you are free to use the designated wedding venue on Saturday and the same guests." I looked at them over my shoulder. "At least I'll know the resources I invested in planning the wedding won't go to waste." With that I walked out, with neither of them moving. Shane said my name once, but it sounded small, like a man calling for an aeroplane that had already taken off.

Only when the elevator door opened and I got in did my composure crack, my breath trembling as the truth settled in. I slid against the elevator wall, my vision turning blurry with the moisture that was pooling in my eyes. The world was suddenly crumpling around me, and the car felt way too small for me. It was like I wasn't getting enough air, and every forced intake sent a stabbing pain to my chest.

Four years of dating had just gone down the drain like that, and with the help of none other than Caroline. She practically raised me when my mom passed after my dad remarried her. She was there when my mom felt ill and eventually passed on, having been her best friend. She was still there when I began dating Shane; she helped me choose my wedding dress, and to think she was screwing him behind my back? Did they even stop even once and think about me, about how wrong it was? I thought, each question leaving my heart hollow.

I picked up my phone, fumbling with the call log with my shaking hands. I called Mia, my cousin, the only person that I could at that moment.

"Mia," I whispered when she answered on the second ring.

"Lani? I have been trying to call you. You don't sound okay," she spoke as I sniffled, trying to hold my emotions in. "Oh my God, are you crying? What happened?"

My lips trembled. "It's Shane..." I trailed off, clutching my chest when a blinding pain cut across. "Mom and Shane, in the hotel," I choked on the words, closing my eyes tightly when the image ingrained in my mind of the two screwing flashed.

"Oh god," she breathed. "You found them together, didn't you?" Mia asked, a beat of silence following before she inhaled loudly. "That son of a bitch. Where are you?"

I breathed, the lump in my throat expanding faster than I could clear my throat. "Vegas."

"The hell are you doing in Vegas?" she asked quickly.

"Long story," I whispered, using my left hand to furiously wipe the tears that had escaped. "Voss brought me for a business meeting," I simply stated, just as the elevator door opened at the ground floor.

"I'm booking a flight there right now," she said.

"No, Mia, I'll be fine, I am fine," I muttered, ending the call before she could argue. I knew for a fact that she wouldn't hesitate to fly over.

I didn't know where I was heading to until a hotel staff member stopped me when a wave of nausea hit me, making me sway on my feet. "Hello miss, is everything okay?" The man asked, steadying me.

I nodded, blinking back tears, then forced a smile. "Do you know any club near this hotel?"

His brows lifted slightly, but he answered. "Yes, we do have an in-house club. Come let me show you." I followed him as he branched into a large corridor, past the spa, then took a different elevator, one level below. "Here you go," he stated when the world 'Eclipse' written in neon lights came into view. I thanked him quickly, showed my ID to one of the bouncers and vanished inside.

The air inside smelt of whisky, perfume and sweat as people danced on the dancefloor, others chatted, giggled and even made out. In the middle were around five male strippers, swaying to the music. I went straight to one of the club counters, wondering how life for other people was still moving while mine was crumpling. "I need something strong," I muttered to the bartender.

"Rough night?" I rolled my eyes at the attempted small talk.

"The drink," I snapped, my mouth literally watering when he pushed a glass in front of me and poured in vodka. I downed it fast, enjoying the burning sensation it left in my throat. I asked for another and another, chasing that buzzing feeling that came with alcohol.

"I don't know why people drown themselves with booze when things go wrong in their lives," the bartender once more spoke.

"Shut up and add another glass," I demanded, taking it in a few gulps. "And learn how to mind your fucking business," I added, tapping the glass on the counter for more. At that moment, all I wanted was the image of my fiancé screwing my own stepmother to disappear from my memory. For their moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin to just evaporate.

As he was pouring for me another glass, someone tapped me on my shoulder. I turned, my eyes falling on a tall, handsome white man, definitely one of the strippers, given his leather g-string, glitter and oil on his skin.

"Hey beautiful," he cooed. "You look like you are having a rough night. I can make it better with a little action on the dance floor," he leaned closer, his heavy cologne wafting to my nose.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "I'm fine." I turned from him, facing the bartender. "Where's the restroom?" I asked, my bladder already full from the glasses of vodka I had downed.

"Down that corridor, to the right." He pointed at a dimly lit space. I murmured a thank you, slid off the stool and tried to steady myself. The room spun slightly, the neon lights blurring into streaks of red and green as I walked away. I was almost at the ladies' door when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Need help?" Came a voice from behind. I turned, staggering on my feet as the same stripper came into view.

"I said I'm fine," I dismissed, taking another shaky step forward. I froze when his hand brushed my arm. "Don't touch me," I warned, my voice shaking more than I wanted it to.

He chuckled slowly. "Come on, beautiful. No need to act like you don't want it."

"Leave me alo-ne," I slurred the words, trying to get away, but his hand shot out, gripping my waist.

"Let me go!" I pushed at him but ended up rubbing my ass on his front, the contact alone sending chills down my spine. My heartbeatspiked as he pressed me against the wall, trapping me.

"We can have a good time together," he whispered against my ear, as I tried pushing him back to no avail. He was much stronger, and with my feet barely holding the weight of my body and my head spinning, I was losing.

"Stop!" I shouted, my throat tightening on me as I wiggled, elbowing him.

Suddenly, the man was yanked backward, so hard that he hit the corridor's opposite wall with a thud.

"She said no, idiot." That voice, low, baritone and familiar, growled. It was Voss, his eyes darkening as they landed on the stripper. He moved forward as I slid against the wall, my knees turning to jelly, my heart pounding hard.

"Hey man, chi—" The stripper didn't finish his sentence; a punch from Voss silenced him, straight on his face. The man collapsed, groaning as he clutched his nose, blood flowing between his fingers.

Then Voss turned slowly to me, his sharp gaze falling on me. He spoke, his upper lip twitching slightly. "Why the hell are you drunk 6 hours before an important meeting, Miss Lane?"