A night to remember

Zina POV 

I pulled away from Jared's kiss, my breathing heavy and uneven. My heart hammered in my chest, and I couldn't tell if it was from the heat of the moment or the way his gaze lingered on me, dark and unreadable.

His lips curved into a sly smile, one that sent shivers cascading down my spine. "We're not done yet," he said, his voice low and teasing.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He reached for his jacket and grabbed his keys from the side table. "There's somewhere I want to take you."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

I hesitated, but the curiosity bubbling inside me won out. "Fine," I said, grabbing my coat.

The ride to wherever Jared was taking me was anything but ordinary.

The moment we got into his sleek black car, the tension from earlier returned, thick and suffocating. He didn't speak much as he drove, but his hand rested on the gearshift, his fingers brushing against my knee every now and then. Each touch sent jolts of electricity through me, and I couldn't decide if I wanted him to stop or keep going.

The hum of the engine seemed louder in the silence, and I found myself hyper-aware of every little movement. Jared's jaw was set, his eyes fixed on the road, but I could feel his awareness of me like a tangible thing.

"What's this all about?" I asked finally, my voice cutting through the charged air.

"You'll see," he replied, his tone cryptic.

The way he said it sent a thrill of anticipation through me.

When the car slowed and turned into a secluded lot, I frowned. The building in front of us was old, with weathered brick walls and an air of secrecy that made my stomach tighten.

"A warehouse?" I asked, glancing at him skeptically.

Jared's smirk deepened. "Trust me."

He parked the car and stepped out, coming around to open my door before I could do it myself. His hand rested lightly on the small of my back as he guided me toward the unmarked entrance.

The moment we stepped inside, the air changed. It was dark, lit only by a few scattered neon lights that cast an eerie glow. The faint thrum of bass-heavy music vibrated through the floor, growing louder as we descended a narrow staircase.

I glanced at Jared, my curiosity giving way to unease. "What is this place?"

"You'll see," he said again, his tone playful this time.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, the scene before me stole my breath.

The room was massive, dimly lit with a crimson hue that bathed everything in a sultry glow. Plush velvet couches were scattered around, occupied by patrons who looked like they belonged to another world entirely. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of something heady and intoxicating.

At the center of the room was a stage, where dancers—no, strippers—moved with hypnotic grace. Their barely-there outfits sparkled under the low lights, and the crowd's attention was fixed on them like moths to a flame.

My cheeks burned as I took it all in.

"This is… not what I expected," I said, my voice barely audible over the music.

Jared leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. "Relax," he murmured. "It's just a place to unwind."

"Unwind?" I echoed, incredulous.

He chuckled, taking my hand and leading me deeper into the room. My pulse quickened as we weaved through the crowd. Everywhere I looked, there was an overwhelming sensuality—couples lost in each other, dancers moving in ways that were downright scandalous, and an atmosphere that seemed to blur the lines between indulgence and sin.

We settled into a booth near the edge of the room, giving us a view of the stage without being too close. Jared ordered drinks without consulting me, and I shot him a look.

"What are we doing here, Jared?"

"Living a little," he said, handing me a glass of something amber and strong.

"This doesn't seem like your kind of scene," I said, taking a cautious sip.

He shrugged, his eyes scanning the room. "Maybe it's not. But I thought you might like it."

My eyebrows shot up. "You thought I'd like this?"

His lips twitched, and for the first time, he looked a little uncertain. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you succeeded," I said dryly.

He leaned back, watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "So? What do you think?"

I hesitated, torn between discomfort and curiosity. "It's… a lot."

Jared chuckled, his hand brushing against mine on the table. "It grows on you."

Before I could respond, a dancer approached our booth, her movements fluid and magnetic. She leaned in toward Jared, her eyes locked on him, but he waved her off with a casual flick of his wrist.

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until she sauntered away.

"Not your type?" I teased, trying to mask the strange twinge of jealousy in my chest.

Jared's gaze snapped to mine, and the smirk he gave me was devastating. "Not even close."

The weight of his words hung between us, and for a moment, I forgot about the room, the music, the dancers. All I could focus on was him—the way his eyes darkened as they roamed over me, the way his fingers brushed against mine again, lingering this time.

"Zina," he said softly, his voice cutting through the haze of the club.

I swallowed hard. "What?"

"Do you trust me?"

The question caught me off guard, and I hesitated. "I don't know," I admitted honestly.

He nodded, as if he expected that answer, and leaned in closer. "Maybe tonight will change that."

His lips were inches from mine, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me again. Instead, he pulled back, leaving me breathless and aching for more.

"Drink up," he said, his tone lighter now. "The night's just getting started."

I notice more than once people going down the dark hallway. The bouncer lifts the rope for them before they disappear into the darkness. There's a black curtain hiding whatever lies behind.

 

My curiosity is practically killing me. So when Jared starts talking to a rich man from the poker table, I excuse myself to use the restroom. 

I disappear into the crowd and meander my way casually toward the hallway. Being free of Jared is both liberating and terrifying. I feel like an imposter in a world where I don't fit. I don't belong here, and it's written all over my face.

 

Eyes linger on me as I pass by. They can tell I'm a fraud.

 

When I reach the red rope and the black curtain of the forbidden hallway, the bouncer stares at me wordlessly.

 

"Um…" It's so loud in here, he probably doesn't even hear me. "The bathroom?"

 

I know well enough that the bathroom isn't down here. His brow furrows at me and I nearly die of embarrassment. I'm about to crawl back into the crowd and try to convince my brain that that didn't just happen when the bouncer looks up for a second and nods at someone across the room. I barely have a moment to turn around and look when he lifts the red rope and anticipation causes the blood to drain out of my body entirely.

 

It feels like over an hour that I stand there and gape at him in surprise. Though, it's probably only a millisecond. Before he can change his mind, I step through the curtain and enter the dark, ominous hallway.