Who the hell is that?!

Elizabeth POV

The second I stepped through the door, the world changed. It was loud, hot, and alive.

The lights flashed in purples and blues, cutting through clouds of artificial smoke. People swayed to the heavy beat, bodies packed tight, laughter echoing in pockets through the music.

I walked to the bar, ordering a vodka soda.

Something light, I told myself. Just enough to loosen up. Just enough to forget.

I sipped and scanned the crowd, feeling for the first time in ages like I wasn’t trapped in someone else’s cage.

“You look like a fucking goddess,” someone said beside me.

I turned to see a tall girl with copper-red curls and glitter dusted across her cheeks. She looked drunk. And beautiful.

“I’m Kim,” she added, leaning in. “And this is Tessa and Billie.” She gestured to two other girls, equally gorgeous, all dressed like trouble.

“Elizabeth,” I replied.

“Well, Elizabeth, you’re officially part of the girl gang for tonight,” Tessa declared, raising her shot glass. “You’re way too hot to stand here alone.”

Billie clinked her glass against mine. “What are we drinking to?”

“Freedom,” I said before I could stop myself.

We laughed, drank, and somehow ended up on the dance floor, swaying to the music like we owned it. The drinks kept coming, and the music kept thumping.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel watched or judged or like I was taking up space I didn’t deserve.

I felt...alive.

My head was spinning, my body warm from the alcohol. I couldn’t stop smiling.

A man approached—tall, dark-haired, too eager. He leaned in, trying to touch my waist.

“She’s with us,” Kim snapped.

“Back off,” Tessa added, stepping in front of me like a guard dog with glitter eyeliner.

He scowled and walked away.

“Men are always trying to ruin things,” Billie said, tossing her hair.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Tessa grinned at me. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing security duty.”

“Thanks,” I giggled, swaying as I wiped sweat off my forehead. “You girls are amazing.”

“Damn right we are.”

Another round of shots was pushed into our hands.

“To bad decisions!” someone yelled.

The music throbbed like a second heartbeat as the DJ switched to something dirtier, bass-heavy and pulsing through the floor.

A wild cheer erupted in the crowd as bodies pressed closer together.

Tessa grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward a small platform in the center of the dance floor.

“Come on, baby girl. You’re not getting off easy tonight.”

“What?” I laughed, breathless, tipsy, but already following.

Billie was next. “This is your freedom party. Get up there!”

I didn’t even protest. Not really.

I was drunk. Maybe past drunk.

My feet barely touched the platform before Kim spun me around and smacked my butt hard, shouting,

“Show us what that dress was made for!”

Laughter bubbled out of me—loud, unfiltered, almost foreign in my own mouth.

I tossed my hair, dropped low, and started moving. At first, it was playful. Silly. A little dancing. Then came the bass drop and I lost it.

My hips rolled with the beat. I twerked, dipped, flipped my hair, danced like I had nothing to lose.

Because tonight, I didn’t.

The girls went wild, cheering and dancing beside me. The crowd below started watching. Men whistled. Women shouted.

Someone threw a handful of dollar bills in the air.

“Damn, girl!” Tessa yelled. “Where the hell have you been hiding?”

I laughed again, spinning as I dropped low, my dress riding dangerously high. I was soaked in sweat, glitter from Kim’s cheeks on my arm, my lip gloss smudged halfway to my jaw.

I didn’t care.

No one here knew me. No one knew I belonged to a man who’d disappeared for twelve days without a word. No one knew about the quiet house with the heavy silence. No one cared that I had no ring on my finger or name on my heart.

To them, I was single. Young. Wild.

Free.

A guy climbed onto the edge of the platform, reaching for me. But before he could even get close, Billie blocked him with a sharp elbow. “Nope. Off limits.”

“God, I love you girls,” I shouted, breathless, swaying as the world tilted around me.

Kim grinned. “You’re one of us now. A bad decision wrapped in a perfect body.”

“I think I’m going to faint,” I laughed, clutching Tessa’s shoulder, barely able to stand upright. The drinks had hit hard. My vision was spinning, everything hot and loud and blurred.

“You good?” she asked.

“Just—one more song,” I managed.

They danced around me, wild and carefree.

“Elizabeth!”

I was mid-spin, hips swaying to the rhythm, hair clinging to my neck with sweat, when I heard it.

The music didn’t stop—but I did.

My entire body froze like someone had hit pause on my soul. The bass kept thumping in my chest, the lights kept flashing, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

That voice.

Rough. Cold. Sharp like broken glass—and so familiar I could feel it in my bones.

No.

No. No. No.

I turned my head slowly, heartbeat thundering in my ears louder than the music now.

And there he was.

Christian.

Standing just a few feet from the edge of the dance floor. Jet-black suit, broad shoulders, face carved in stone. The flashing lights bounced off the hard lines of his jaw, his lips a tight line, and those icy eyes locked on mine.

Unblinking.

Furious.

“I’m so screwed,” I breathed, the taste of panic crawling up my throat.

Tessa blinked. “What’s wrong?”

Kim followed my frozen stare. “Who the hell is that?”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

They stared at me, waiting.

I didn’t look away from him as I said, barely above a whisper—

“My husband.”

Tessa’ s jaw dropped. Kim blinked twice. “Wait… you’re married?”

“That’s your husband?” Tessa asked in disbelief.

“Mm-hmm.” I nodded like I’d been caught naked in church.

“Jesus,” Billie muttered. “He’s hot... but terrifying.”

Yeah. That was Christian Reed.

And I was currently drunk, half-dressed, and twerking in a club full of strangers like a single woman.

A single, stupid woman.

I took a shaky step back. His stare didn’t drop. Didn’t flicker. He just stood there, that unreadable face doing all the screaming for him.

And I knew—knew—whatever came next, I wasn’t ready for it.

Not even close.