Chapter 4

"Back off? Why should I?" he sneers, reeking of smoke and bad decisions. "Unless you’re offering to replace her? ‘Cause I really wouldn’t mind."

God, his breath could probably set off a fire alarm, and his lips look like they’ve survived a sandstorm. How did Katie end up in the arms of this dumpster fire?

I take a step closer, tilting my head with a slow, deliberate smile. "Oh, I’d love to replace her… in kicking your ass." My voice drops to a dangerously low tone. "And trust me, if you don’t want to leave here with a black eye and a bruised ego, you will back off."

He scoffs, puffing up his chest like an overgrown pigeon. "Please. You’re all talk, little girl."

I let out a laugh—sharp, cold, laced with pure menace. The kind of laugh that makes men shift uncomfortably in their seats. His smug look falters.

"You know," I muse, leaning in just enough to make him uneasy, "I happen to have some very dangerous friends in the VIP section. The kind who would love to teach an asshole like you some manners. Shall I invite them over?"

I don’t actually know anyone in VIP, but he doesn’t need to know that. And judging by the way he immediately looks around like he's expecting a gang of hitmen to appear, my bluff lands perfectly.

Damn, that works every time.

He scoffs, eyes narrowing as he leans in with a twisted grin. "Calm the fuck down, you stuck-up whore. Just because no one wants your used-up ass doesn’t mean you gotta act like a damn saint. I was just having a little fun."

I step forward, tilting my head. "Oh, you wanna have fun?"

He grins. "That’s the spirit—"

I throw my drink straight in his face.

Gasps erupt around us.

Katie gawks at me. "Oh my God, Aria!"

I shrug, batting my lashes innocently. "Oops. My hand slipped."

The guy splutters, wiping the liquid off his face. "You little—"

But before he can even think about finishing that sentence, the club bouncers appear out of nowhere, grab him by the arms, and drag him toward the exit.

I smirk, watching him get hauled away like the trash he is.

Sky appears beside us, howling with laughter. "Holy shit, Ari! That was EPIC!"

Katie exhales, placing a hand over her heart. "I think I just fell in love with you a little bit."

I grin. "Get in line, babe."

Sky looks at Katie. "Katie are you okay?"

"No these heels are killing me!" she replies dramatically.

We stumbled back to our seats, ordering more drinks like we had unlimited liver insurance. 

A few shots later, I was high as fuck, Katie was yawning like a grandma past her bedtime, and Sky? 

Well, Sky was the devil incarnate, insisting we stay because "the night is still young."

That’s when she had the genius idea of playing dare or dare—because let’s be real, no one ever picks truth in this game.

I smirked, swirling my drink. “Alright, Sky, this one’s for you. I dare you to flash your boobs to that hot bartender.”

“What!?” Sky choked on her drink, eyes as wide as a deer caught in headlights. “Are you out of your damn mind!? How do you expect me to do that!?”

Katie, already giggling like a schoolgirl, clapped her hands. “Well, you did ask for a dare.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting pornhub level dares! I actually like that bartender! He’ll think I’m some drunk lunatic with exhibitionist tendencies!” Sky groaned.

I shrugged. “Fine. Then how about giving a random guy a blowjob?”

Sky let out a horrified gasp, clutching her chest like I’d just slapped her with a raw fish. “WHAT!? EWW! That’s even worse! I am NOT putting a mystery dick in my mouth!”

Katie and I howled with laughter. “You’re killing me, Sky,” I wheezed.

“Alright, last option,” Katie said between snickers. “Twerk on top of the bar counter. Right in front of your bartender crush.”

Sky looked like she was contemplating jumping out the nearest window. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! Can we please leave the poor bartender out of this!?”

“Nope,” I grinned. “Pick one.”

She let out a long-suffering sigh, gulped down her drink, and stood up. “Fine. I’ll do the last one.”

Katie and I clutched each other as Skylar marched towards the bar like a woman on a death mission. 

The bartender—oblivious to the storm about to hit—leaned in, probably expecting her to order a drink. 

Instead, she shook her head, flashed him a wicked grin, and—oh, dear god—climbed onto the damn counter.

The bartender's face went from "How can I help you?" to "What in the actual fuck!?" in record time.

And then she did it. Skylar fucking twerked.

On top of the bar.

In front of her crush.

Like a drunken Megan Thee Stallion with zero coordination.

Katie and I absolutely lost it. We were screaming, crying, gasping for air as Sky flailed her hips in ways that defied both rhythm and physics. 

The bartender looked traumatized, waving his hands like a referee trying to stop a foul play. Meanwhile, Sky was out here, living her best chaotic life.

And then—oh, sweet mercy—a bouncer appeared, lifting her up like a rogue toddler at a grocery store. She kicked her legs in protest as he set her down, adjusting her dress with what little dignity she had left.

She stomped back to our table, arms crossed, face flushed.

“That,” Katie said between ragged breaths, wiping tears from her eyes, “was the single greatest thing I have ever witnessed.”

I nodded, barely able to contain my giggles. “That was hilarious. You should’ve seen the bartender’s face. I swear, I think we just ruined his ability to love.”

“Haha. Very funny,” Sky deadpanned, glaring at me. Then she turned to me sharply, as if remembering something important.

“Oh, hell no. If I had to suffer, then you’re next. I dare you to kiss a stranger" Sky announced, folding her arms with a wicked grin.

I scoffed. “Pfft. Too easy.” I flicked my hair over my shoulder. “How about one of those guys over there?” 

I pointed to a group of college frat boys who looked like they’d sell their souls for a chance to touch a boob.

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Uh, no. Those guys look like they’d lick your feet if you so much as blinked at them.”

Sky rolled her eyes. “No, not them. I get to pick the stranger you kiss.”

She dramatically scanned the club, eyes flicking from one unsuspecting victim to another, before they landed on someone. Her lips curled into a slow, evil smirk.

“Ohhh, how about him?” she said, tilting her chin towards the VIP area.

Katie and I followed her gaze.

Descending the stairs like some mafia overlord was a man in a perfectly tailored black suit, exuding the kind of authority that screamed don’t-fuck-with-me. 

We can't see his face properly. Three bodyguards hovered around him like he was the goddamn President, and he was furious, barking into his phone like he was about to fire an entire country.

My confidence wavered.

Katie let out a low whistle. “Damn. Are we sure we wanna poke the bear? He looks important. Like… ‘can-make-you-disappear-with-a-phone-call’ important.”

“Not our problem,” Sky said cheerfully. “That’s why I dare Aria to go up there and kiss him.” Her grin stretched even wider.

Katie took a sip of her drink. “Okay, but how is she even gonna get close to him? Dude’s got three bodyguards. They won’t even let her breathe in his direction, let alone kiss him.”

Sky shrugged. “That’s what makes it fun.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. This bitch.

But backing down wasn’t an option. Not in this lifetime.

“Fine,” I said, flipping my hair back dramatically. “You should know by now—I don’t get intimidated. I’ll steal his attention and steal a kiss. Easy.”

I downed the rest of my drink in one go, letting the alcohol burn its way down my throat like a liquid pep talk. 

Then, with the confidence of a woman who’s made many questionable life choices, I sauntered towards the balcony where Mr. Mafia Energy was standing.

He was still chewing someone out on the phone, his voice sharp and commanding.

I leaned against the railing, pretending to admire the city lights.

And waited.

Because if I was going to throw myself into the lion’s den, I was damn sure gonna make it cinematic.

I took the opportunity to give him a proper once-over.

And holy. fucking. hell.

How is it even legal for a man to be this gorgeous? Like, did he crawl out of a billionaire romance novel? Did God personally sculpt this man on a good day?

His dark brown hair was slicked back to perfection—probably with the tears of lesser men. 

And that jawline? Sharp enough to file my taxes. I’m not exaggerating, I’m stating scientific facts.

His black suit, tailored within an inch of its life, did absolutely nothing to hide the sculpted muscle underneath. And then—oh, lord help me—his dark brown eyes landed on me.

I froze.

This man? Breathtaking. Exactly my type. Actually, scratch that—he’s everyone’s type. The kind of man you’d risk everything for.

Oh, sweet, sinful universe, I would do anything to be underneath him tonight.

Immediately after he ended his phone call, I moved in for the kill—only to be cockblocked by his stupid bodyguards, who had the audacity to exist. I tried slipping past them with my best helpless damsel act, but they remained as unmovable as freaking statues.

Luckily, Mr. Greek God himself gave a lazy wave, signaling them to let me through. Good boy.

Keeping unwavering eye contact, I sauntered up to him and placed a hand on his rock-hard chest. Sweet baby Jesus, is this man made of marble?

"Hey, hot stuff," I purred, flashing my signature killer smile.

He didn’t respond. Just stared at me, his once warm gaze now colder than my bank account.

Oof. Rude.

Undeterred, I let my fingers trail down his chest, lower and lower, aiming straight for the promised land.

Before I could even brush past his belt, his hand snatched my wrist mid-air.

My lips curled into a smirk. Oh, so we’re playing hard to get?

He furrowed his brows, staring at me like I was some kind of rabid raccoon that had just broken into his penthouse. Meanwhile, I was just trying to appreciate God’s work.

And damn, he smelled rich. Like expensive cologne, power, and probably a yacht.

I yanked my hand back, undeterred. Closing the space between us, I wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my toes to finally claim what I came for.

I leaned in, lips just inches away from his—

And that’s when it happened.

My stomach lurched.

A horrifying realization struck me a millisecond too late.

Before I could stop it, my body betrayed me.

Right then and there, I violently emptied my stomach’s contents all over his immaculate, expensive-ass suit.

Ladies and gentlemen, I just projectile vomited on the hottest man I’ve ever seen.

Kill. Me. Now.