3. Dine Lane

Aurora:

I pressed a palm to my head and briefly shut my eyes as Trish led me into the loud club room, the loud beat of the music vibrating through the air.

People were everywhere. By the wall kissing, by the dance floor, grinding on each other, or getting soaked with a bottle.

I felt dizzy from the noise; my head was pounding sharply as Trish led me in.

I should have known this wouldn't be a good idea.

“You okay? she shouted, trying to keep her voice heard over the music. She spared me a side glance, and a small smile curved her lips.

I gave her a small nod, but only half meant it; I wasn't okay. Not at all.

My gaze scanned the club, and I suddenly wished I was back in the safety of the bed.

Her fingers tightened around mine as she walked over to the bar; my gaze flicked over to the bartender, who was a young man.

“Two drinks!” Trish shouted; her voice was barely audible over the loud music playing.

He nodded, turned around, and set two glasses on the counter before moving to prepare a mix.

I stayed silent, leaning against the counter, my fingers tightening a little as Trish slipped her hands from mine.

The flashing lights were making my headache worse, and I was starting to regret agreeing to this night out.

Trish was looking around, and it looked like she was searching for someone. “Who are you looking for?” I moved close to her and asked her.

She turned back to me and simply shook her head, “No one. Just some guy.”

“What drink?” The bartender asked her.

“Get me a cosmopolitan.” He nodded before turning to look at me.

“And you pretty lady? What’s your poison?” he asked me with a small smile.

Pretty lady? What's my poison? Was he trying to flirt with me?

“Uhhh, I don’t know,” I admitted, barely managing to be heard. “I’m not really good with drinks.”

“Just get her a paloma,” Trish answered for me.

A couple of minutes later, the bartender pushed our drinks to us, and Trish picked the two and muttered, “Follow me.”

Without a word, I followed closely behind her, and she led us into a small private room that was sparkling with neon party lights.

I shut the door behind me, releasing a sigh of relief that this place was quieter and we were alone.

My gaze followed my friend as she dropped the drinks on the table in the middle and sat down, looking more relaxed than I was. “Why haven't I seen Adrian? You told me he would be here,” she huffed out a deep sigh at my words.

“If I told you he’ll be here, then he certainly will show up. Just sit down, sip your drink, and chill. Because you pacing around like this is contagious and makes me feel frantic too.”

I stopped walking and turned the lock on the door before moving over to the couch.

“Then please tell me this wasn't just some sort of prank to get me here,” I looked up at her.

She shook her head and took a sip of her drink. “It wasn’t, I promise.”

“How are we going to be able to see him from here if we are locked up in a room?”

“Rory,” she patted my shoulders as I sat down beside her on the plump, deep red couch. “Chill, we won't see him. But we’ll definitely hear him.”

A frown curved up my brows at her words, but rather than saying anything, I slowly nodded, deciding it was better to stay calm for now.

I took a sip of the drink in my hand absentmindedly, and my expression twisted into that of disgust as a sharp taste burst into my mouth. “What’s the mix-up of this drink?”

My glass contained a pinkish-orange liquid with a salted rim; a wedge of grapefruit was perched on the edge. While Trish’s drink was a vibrant red served in a martini glass.

“Grapefruit juice, tequila, a little soda. Perfect for a newbie.”

I nodded; the tequila was the reason I felt a sharp slash in my mouth.

“And yours?” I asked, flicking my eyes to her drink.

“Vodka, cranberry juice, lime, and triple sec.” She crossed her legs, and the tattoo on her lap peeked out. She was dressed in a red, above-knee-length, kind of short, beautiful dress, and her ginger hair cascaded down her shoulders.

While I was in a brown top and black pants, with my brown hair packed in a messy bun.

Very odd setup for a club, I soon realized.

I tapped my leg on the floor, feeling heavy as I slowly finished the drink in my hand. I could feel a sharp pang cut through my skull.

I closed my eyes and relaxed my head back, and as the sound of the music quieted down slowly in my ears, that's when I heard the sound of a door being opened.

Trish muttered, “Finally,” and I raised my head up.

I could hear voices, and it was from the private room right after ours.

“I hope you one day realize that you won't be buried along with all the paperwork and emails you occupy yourself with on a daily basis. It took me ages to convince you to come here, and you wouldn't even have a drink because you have work to complete."

The deep baritone of a man sounded from the other room.

From my peripheral, I noticed Trish’s lips pulled up into a smile, and that only deepened the frown on my face.

I could feel all the nerves in my body freeze when I heard a familiar voice utter, “Shut up, Dmitri. I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough?“

Dmitri chuckled humorlessly. "You’re here, sure. But mentally? You're probably back at your desk. Or worse, sulking about Aurora.”

I stiffened in my seat, gripping the empty glass in my hand as Trish gave me a knowing glance.

I snapped my head to her, and at the same time, she turned to look at me, “Adrian is here!”

She shrugged, “I told you he’ll be here, didn't I?” she answered right back.

I sat back straight up, feeling my throat tighten as a familiar jab seared through my chest. I was about to say something, but Trish pressed a finger to her lips, so I just sat back down and sat with my eyes closed, listening to the voices from the other room.

Dmitri clicked his tongue. “You can’t just cut someone off like that, man. She deserves better.”

Adrian’s voice was clipped, cold enough to cut through steel. “She’ll survive it. She always does.”

The other voice sharpened, “So that’s what you tell yourself? That she’ll be fine? You divorced her out of nowhere. You handed her the damn papers without so much as a real explanation. What kind of man does that?”

“The kind who doesn’t owe anyone an explanation,” Adrian’s voice was low, so low that it tore through my heart.

It didn't sound like he cared. He didn't sound like he had been aching as much as I was. I pressed my lips into a thin line.

My grip on the glass tightened; Trish shifted beside me but stayed silent, her gaze flicking between me and the wall where Adrian’s voice filtered through.

It looked like she was regretting bringing me here.

“She deserved better,” Dmitri pressed.

Dmitri was one of Adrian’s closest friends that I know of. Different families, but they both treat each other like brothers. Actually, there are three of them.

Adrian Rossi, Dmitri Volkov, and Leon Dumont—they were the three business men who stood at the top of New York’s elite.

Influential, wealthy, and well-connected, they were the names that commanded attention in both legitimate business, and shady ones.

They were the ones everyone knew, respected, and in most cases, feared.

“Better? Better would have been her walking away the second she realized our love was fading out, rather than sitting down to bear the neglect. I just sped up the inevitable.” Adrian said bluntly.

I suddenly forgot how to breathe, and my heart crashed into my chest. I had thought he got busy with work. I never knew he was intentionally neglecting me.

Dmitri let out a sigh, “You didn’t even try to fix things. Just handed her the papers and walked out like she was some business deal gone bad.”

Adrian was silent; he didn't respond immediately. “I just did what I thought was best for her.”

Best? Is that what he thinks? I swallowed a lump in my throat, feeling my eyes sting with tears.

Dmitri’s voice dropped, filled with disbelief. “Best? You really believe that? Or is this just you trying to convince yourself you don’t care?”

Adrian’s response came without hesitation, “I don’t care. She asked me why, Dmitri, and I didn’t answer because there’s nothing to say. It’s over. Done. She needs to move on, just like I have.”

My chest felt like it was being wrapped tightly with a rope. I felt suffocated.

"That’s a lie," Dmitri said; his voice was low.

“You don't seem to realize how many men are dying for her. You are just going to let a gem slip out of your hands?”

“Don't make a mistake you'll end up regretting, Adrian." A softer voice said, straight and gentle. It was Leon's voice.

Adrian didn't answer them.

“Well then. Since you don't seem to care. I hope you stay as nonchalant as this when I make a move on her.” Dmitri voiced.

Adrian was silent for a moment, and then he said in a deep voice, “Don't. Fucking. Dare.”

I wasn't listening anymore as I stood up from my seat, feeling my legs falter in my steps as I walked over to the door.

Trish called out to me, but I was already far gone and not listening to her words.

His words were so harsh. So blunt. Cruel. So curt.

I unlocked the door and stepped out.

Turned around to the door right beside our private room, and I pressed a hand on the handle, pushing the door open.

Three pairs of eyes turned to me. One pair was a pale green, another a bright blue, and the third pair was a deep, dark black.

My gaze fell on Adrian’s.

My heart tightened, and I asked in a low voice, “You really mean all that?” He didn't answer me, but I noticed the look of shock on his face.

“Answer me,” I gritted out.

He didn't say a word. Just sat down, his piercing dark eyes seemed to see through my soul, and I took his silence as a yes.

I took a step back.

Adrian frowned, and he reached out for the glass cup of water on the table. He coughed; the sound was so hard and strained that I felt it through my chest.

His cough worsened, deep and ragged; the sound echoed through the silence in the room.

My heart clenched painfully at the sound, but I stood frozen, my nails digging into my palms as I fought the urge to rush to him.

He brought a hand to his chest, his other gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white.

His body shook with the force of his coughing, and for a moment, his mask of indifference cracked.

I noticed the strain, the pain, and something else he desperately tried to hide.

Dmitri leaned toward him, his brow furrowed. “Adrian, what the hell—”

Adrian held up a hand, silencing him. “I’m fine,” he rasped, but the words came out hoarse. Fine? He wasn’t fine. I could see it, hear it, feel it. But he didn't want to accept he wasn't okay, the same way he had completely ignored my presence.

A fit of coughing overtook him, and when he pulled his hands away from his lips, his fingers were stained red.

A frown curved up Leon's expression, and he patted him on the back.

Adrian's eyes trailed up to me, and I took another step back.

Unable to bear the sight anymore, accompanied with the pain in my chest, I turned around and left.

The wound in my chest reopened. I had thought coming here would make me talk to him, and listen to him give me a reasonable reason about why he decided about the divorce.

But all I got was about how much he doesn't care and how much he thinks I was better off without him.

Tears blurred my eyes as I stepped out of the club. I could hear Trish's desperate, worried voice calling out to me from inside. She was looking for me.

A sob racked through me as I fully stepped out, letting the drizzle of the rain wash over me. I pressed my palms to my stomach, clutching it tightly, so tight as I felt a nauseous feeling climb up my throat.

No. No. I was hoping I could talk to him, but I couldn't, what do I do? tears streamed out of my eyes, and my body trembled with the force of the ache in my chest.

My phone pinged with a message, and with blurry eyes from tears and rain, I took it out of my bag and swiped through before tapping on the notification.

A cold chill ran down my body when I saw that the message was from an unknown number I couldn't trace, and it read:

"Roses fade, and so does love. Save yourself the heartbreak."