Chapter 2–Stranger At The Club

Natasha’s POV

The music was too loud. I wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The pounding bass that pulsed through the nightclub drowned my thoughts. On the other hand, the flashing lights and the bodies pressed against each other on the dance floor made everything unbearable.

I lifted my glass and took another sip of the whiskey I didn’t even like. At least it made me feel something.

Everyone looked expensive, except me. I’d thrown on a red slip dress, the one that revealed my back. It clung to my curves like a second skin, careless and unplanned. My hair was pulled into a loose bun, strands falling around my face.

“Natasha, take it easy!” my friend Ananya shouted over the music, leaning closer so I could hear. She had practically dragged me out here to ‘clear my head.’

Take it easy? What a joke. Nothing has been easy since my boyfriend Lucas died. I was in New York when I received the phone call that broke my heart.

“Lucas is dead.”

The words still replayed in my head more often than I cared to admit.

He had gotten into an accident that took his life. Until today, I still didn’t know who called, but I never saw Lucas or heard from him.

As if that wasn’t enough. My father just handed me to some dangerous man. At least from what I’d heard.

I downed the rest of the drink, letting out a humorless laugh. “Oh, trust me. I am taking it easy.”

Ananya gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me.

“You’ve been miserable for months. You should be on the dance floor having fun, not drowning yourself in alcohol.”

“And who said I want to have fun?” I shot back. “I clearly didn’t want to come here in the first place. You dragged me here.”

Ananya let out a slow breath. “You’re right, I did. But can you blame me? You’ve been shut up in your house grieving. Lucas has been dead for what? Two months. I just wanted to get you out for one night.”

I stared at the lights over the dance floor. People laughed, danced. The entire place buzzed with life, and yet, I felt completely disconnected from it.

My fingers tightened around the empty glass.

“Another one?” the bartender asked.

“Yes—”

“No!” Ananya and I said at the same time.

“That’s enough. You will have no more,” Ananya said firmly.

“Fine!” 

I rolled my eyes, then got up and moved unsteadily to the dance floor. I let my hips sway a little, my eyes half-closed, moving to the rhythm of the music like it would somehow make everything disappear.

A hand suddenly gripped my waist. “Hey beautiful. You shouldn’t be dancing alone.”

The man standing behind me smelled like expensive cologne mixed with alcohol.

My eyes snapped open. Heat flared to my chest.

“Take your fucking hands off me.” I spun on him, stepping back.

The man chuckled, taking a step closer. “Relax, sweetheart—”

“Don’t call me that!” I snapped. “I’m not your fucking sweetheart. If that’s what you call women, don’t bring that shit to me.”

“Ooh, feisty this one is. I like that,” he said. “Just one dance won’t hurt. Besides, you’re here dressed like that and—”

“Any problem?”

A shadow fell over us.

The drunk man stopped mid-sentence, annoyed.

“It’s none of your business, man,” the drunk man rasped.

I turned, and wow. The stranger standing before me was tall and composed. He wore a black button-down shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled once to reveal strong forearms and a tiny tattoo. His dark hair fell across his face, framing a sharp jawline and piercing grey eyes that watched me with unsettling focus.

The drunk man pulled me back against him.

“I said let go—”

A sharp sound cracked through the music.

The man’s head snapped backward as the blow landed on his face. His grip on my waist loosened immediately, and he stumbled back, clutching his nose.

I clamped my hands over my mouth, staring in disbelief.

“What the fuck, man! You broke my nose!” the drunk man barked, his voice thick with anger as he looked ready to attack. 

“Your nose won’t be the only thing I’ll break if you don’t get the fuck out of here,” the stranger said.

“Crazy bastard,” the drunk man muttered under his breath before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

I faced him, my pulse still racing. “I didn’t need you to rescue me. I could’ve handled myself.”

The stranger’s mouth curved as he pulled out a napkin, wiping the blood on his knuckles. “Of course, you could have.”

I stared at him. Another rich asshole playing hero. I’d met dozens like him. Men who thought money made them fascinating. 

“Let me guess… you swoop in. I bat my lashes and melt because the handsome rich man decided to play hero? Yeah, that’s not happening.”

He cocked his head. The corner of his mouth was still curved. “Well, it’s a good thing you find me handsome. Most women did anyway.”

Our eyes locked on each other.

“But tell me,” he continued, “do you stare at men you’re attracted to like that, or am I getting a special kind of treatment?”

What an—

“Asshole.”

“Oh. She’s got a mouth,” he said, looking around. “Would you mind telling me why a woman like you is out here drinking all alone?”

Woman like me? What does that even mean?

I squinted. “So you’re not only an asshole. You’re a judgmental one too?”

“That wasn’t what I meant, lady,” he countered. “You’re… drunk. Alone. In a place like this. Probably—”

“And that makes you what… concerned or nosy?”

“Both… maybe? Besides, there are plenty of bastards like him around here.”

“Well, Mr. Whatever your name is.” I stepped back, clasping both hands in front of me. “I thank you for your concern.”

Ananya was at a distance, clearly trying to find me in the midst of the crowd.

“Next time,” I continued, “learn to mind the business that actually pays you.”

“You’re… welcome?”

I pushed through the crowds without looking back.