Wasted

Liana turned her head slowly, her hazy gaze sweeping over the stranger sitting beside her.

​

He was well-dressed in a dark, tailored blazer, his silver watch gleaming under the purple strobe lights. His dark hair was combed back neatly, and he had a sharp jawline framed by stubble, carrying an air of subtle wealth.

​

But behind his warm, practiced smile, there was something in his eyes that felt just a little too calculating.

​

He looked at her empty glass, then back up at her face. "I'm Richard, by the way. And you look like someone who could use a refill."

​

Liana opened her mouth to automatically decline. The old, cautious part of her brain told her to stand up, walk away, and wait for Nina by the entrance. But as her eyes drifted to the melting ice at the bottom of her glass, a sudden wave of bitterness washed over her.

​

'Why not? '

she thought, a faint, reckless smirk touching her lips. Nothing in her life had gone right over the last two weeks anyway.

​

She had played by the rules, stayed cautious, tried her absolute best, and still ended up with an empty inbox and a crushed dream. What was the harm in having one more drink?

​

"Fine," Liana said, leaning back against her stool. "I'll take a vodka tonic."

​

Richard’s smile widened slightly. He flagged down the bartender with a flick of his wrist. "Vodka tonic for the lady. And bring me another bourbon."

​

He turned back to her, leaning an elbow against the counter. "So, do you always sit alone in dark corners?, or did I just catch you on an off night?"

​

A tiny, breathless laugh escaped Liana’s lips before she could stop it. "I’m not... im Just... taking a break."

​

"A break from what?" Richard asked, taking his bourbon from the bartender and setting it right beside her glass. "Work? A bad boyfriend, honestly, you look like both"

​"Work," Liana smiled, picking up her fresh glass. "Definitely work."

​

"Ah. A career woman," Richard hummed smoothly, his eyes tracing the rim of her glass as she took a slow sip. "What line of work?"

​

"Fashion. Design," she replied, the sweet, heavy alcohol hitting her tongue. "Or at least... I used to think so."

​

"Used to?" Richard tilted his head, watching her closely. "A face like yours belongs on a runway, not sitting behind a desk."

​

Liana rolled her eyes, but the compliment still slipped past her defenses. As the cold alcohol settled into her stomach, a soft, heavy warmth spread quickly behind her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed completely, and the guarded wall she usually kept up began to crumble.

​

Before long, the polite small talk dissolved into a loose, unfiltered ramble.

​

"You know what's funny?" Liana chuckled, her words beginning to slur softly together as she gestured wildly with her hand. "Corporate executives. They think they're so untouchable. You jump through all these hoops, dive face-first into wet grass—literally, grass—and for what? Not even a 'no thank you' email!"

​

Richard listened intently, leaning his arm against the bar top, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched her posture soften into a tipsy, vulnerable slump. "Sounds like someone didn't appreciate a good pitch."

​

"Exactly!" Liana agreed loudly, taking another gulp. "Vance & Co. doesn't know what they're missing!"

​

She talked freely, and didn't notice the way Richard’s glass remained completely untouched on the counter, or the sharp smirk that touched his lips as he signaled the bartender for a third drink the second her glass tapped the wood. She just kept talking, sinking deeper into the foggy, comfortable haze filling her mind.

​

Meanwhile, in the elevated VIP section directly above the main floor, the atmosphere was far more subdued.

​

The private lounge offered a clear, panoramic view down over the pulsing crowd, but Julian Vance paid little attention to the flashing lights below. He sat back on a deep leather sofa, swirling two fingers of scotch in his glass while listening to his younger brother, Leo, recount his latest chaos in Europe.

​

"I swear, if the French supply team delays the summer silk order by another week, I'm firing the entire department," Leo complained, leaning back with a chuckle.

​

Julian let out a quiet, amused breath. "You won't fire them. You need them."

​

His eyes casually drifted over the glass railing, sweeping over the sea of moving bodies on the ground floor. Near the central bar, his gaze caught a flash of dark hair and a familiar silhouette in a sleek black dress.

​

Julian paused for a fraction of a second.

​

Liana was sitting on a barstool, leaning close to a man in a dark blazer, laughing animatedly over a fresh drink.

​

Julian’s brows pulled together in a subtle, fleeting frown. The recognition was instant—the same woman from the hallway, the same woman from the country club. Seeing her here in a crowded club felt slightly out of place, but he didn't dwell on it. He took a slow sip of his scotch, pulled his gaze away from the edge, and turned his attention straight back to his brother.

​

Downstairs, the room was beginning to spin in soft, blurry circles.

​

Liana blinked hard, her eyelids feeling unusually heavy as she tried to focus on the silver watch on Richard's wrist. The digital numbers danced before her eyes.

​then

Wait...

​

A sudden, foggy thought pierced through the alcohol haze. Nina.

​

How long had Nina been gone? It felt like twenty minutes. Thirty? She hadnt even thought about Nina for a while. She needed to... she needed to go find her

​"I... I need to check on my friend," Liana mumbled, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth as she gripped the edge of the bar counter to steady herself. "She went to the bathroom... an hour ago."

​

Richard reached out, his hand wrapping firmly around her wrist, stopping her from sliding off the stool. "Hey, take it easy. I'm sure your friend is fine. Probably met someone on the dance floor. Stay here, drink your—"

​

"No," Liana insisted, pulling her arm back with a clumsy, weak tug. "No, I have to go check."

​

She stumbled off the stool, her knees buckling slightly before she caught her balance against the bar. Ignoring Richard's calls behind her, she waded through the heavy, loud crowd, her vision swimming as she navigated toward the back hallway where the restrooms were located.

​

The narrow hallway was mercifully quieter, the heavy bass echoing faintly through the walls. Liana pushed open the heavy wooden door into the women's restroom, blinking under the bright vanity lights.

​

"Nina?" she called out, her voice echoing softly off the tiles. "Nina, you in here?"

​

No answer.

​

She walked down the row, pushing open each stall door one by one. Empty. Every single one of them.

​

Liana let out a frustrated, slurred sigh, resting her hand against the cool tile wall to steady her spinning head. She turned around to leave, intending to search the dance floor, when she froze.

​

Standing right in the doorway, blocking the exit, was Richard.

​

Liana blinked, trying to clear her blurry vision. "Richard?"

​She wanted to question it, but then assumed he came after her to check too, so she brushed it off.

​

"She's not... she's not in here," she said and took two awkward steps forward, trying to brush past him to get back out into the hallway.

​

Richard didn't move. He stepped right into her space, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face as his eyes slowly dragged down her body.

​

"Forget about your friend, Liana," he purred softly. "You have no idea how gorgeous you look tonight."

​

A cold spike of anxiety pierced through the foggy alcohol in her brain. "What... what are you doing? Let me pass."

​

"Where do you think you're going?" Richard sneered softly. "We were having such a good time out there."

​

"I'm going home," she stammered, trying to shove past his chest. "Move, Richard. Seriously."

​

Before she could process his next movement, his hand shot out, grabbing her upper arm in a vice grip and ripping her backward. Liana let out a gasp of shock, her legs giving out completely as he shoved her backward into the nearest stall, slamming the door shut behind them.

​

"Stop! Get off me!" Liana cried out, her hands shoving frantically against his chest. But her muscles felt like absolute lead. Her strength was entirely gone.

"Richard, stop!"

​

"Shh, don't be like that," Richard whispered harshly, pinning her against the side wall of the stall. His hands grabbed at her waist, sliding up her dress as he pressed his heavy body against hers. "You drank my booze all night, didn't you? You came here looking for attention."

​

"No! Get away from me!" Tears of pure terror burst from her eyes, hot and stinging, as she struggled against his weight. "Help! Somebody—"

​

"I said shut up!" Richard snapped.

​Before she could scream again, his hand flew up and struck the side of her face with a sharp, violent blow. Her head cracked hard against the metal wall. White light exploded behind her eyes, followed instantly by a sickening wave of nausea, her vision swimming into a blur.

​

"Now be a good girl," Richard grunted into her neck, his hands grabbing the edges of her dress and ripping the fabric apart.

​

BANG!

​

Suddenly, the weight pressing down on her was violently ripped away and

​Liana’s legs instantly buckled. Her body slumped automatically to the cold tile floor, breathing raggedly, she tried to force her heavy eyelids open, tried to tilt her head up to see what was happening—but the towering silhouette above her blurred into a dark, incomprehensible shape before darkness swallowed her whole.