CHAPTER 4: MEMORIES AND REGRETS

Jaydon

The club was a sensory assault. The bass didn’t just play, it vibrated through the floor and settled deep in my marrow, a rhythmic thumping that felt too much like a heartbeat. My eyes stung as the strobe lights sliced the darkness into jagged pieces.

I hadn't stepped foot in this place since before Hera.

Back then, the air smelled like expensive gin and ambition. This was where we toasted to the family business and signed contracts that moved millions. Now, the scent just felt like rot. Every corner held a ghost. I could almost see her standing by the bar, her nose wrinkled in that way she did when she smelled the cigarette smoke I tried to hide. She hated this world. She hated the blood on the money that paid for her life. 

I sucked in a breath of recycled air and forced my legs to move. I wasn't here for ghosts.

Hera was gone. The baby was gone. All I had left was a mother who wouldn't stop screaming for a wedding and a hollow chest that refused to heal. 

Isayanna’s face flashed in my mind, those blue eyes brimming with tears before she bolted. My jaw tightened until it ached. She was a mistake. A soft, clumsy mistake I shouldn't have entertained. I needed someone harder. Someone who didn't cry when I talked about money.

I spotted Christian in the VIP lounge. He was sprawled on the velvet seating like he owned the building. Sabrina, his wife, sat beside him with her usual polished grace. But it was the woman next to her who drew the eye. She was draped in a dress that looked more like a suggestion than an outfit, her skin glowing under the neon.

Christian saw me and grinned, waving me over with a drink in his hand. I navigated the crowd, ignoring the way women slowed down to track my movement. I felt like a wolf walking through a herd of sheep, bored and lethal.

"Finally," Christian shouted over the roar of the music. He stood up and gripped my hand, pulling me into a brief, hard hug. "Thought you'd chickened out, Jay."

He didn't wait for an answer. He gestured to the woman next to Sabrina. She didn't look like Isayanna. She didn't look scared. She looked like she knew exactly what her price was. She let her gaze travel from my boots to my throat, her tongue grazing her upper lip. 

"This is Eunice," Christian said, his voice dropping into that salesman tone he used when he was closing a deal. "Sabrina’s friend. She heard about your little problem. She’s interested in the solution."

I didn't smile. I didn't even sit down. I just looked at her, noting the way she arched her back to show off the curve of her chest. She was beautiful, sharp, and entirely too ready. 

"Did you tell her the conditions?" I asked. 

I kept my voice cold. I wanted her to know this wasn't a date. This wasn't a beginning. It was a transaction.

The music shifted, the bone-rattling bass dying down into a low, predatory hum. I finally let out a breath that didn't feel like I was inhaling stage fog. My head throbbed. I just wanted a drink, a silent house, and to forget this day ever happened.

"You can totally do that now," Christian said, leaning back with a smirk that told me he thought he’d already solved my life.

I looked at Eunice. She was swaying to the new rhythm, her dress riding up her thighs, eyes locked on mine with a hunger that was far too loud. I needed to kill this before it started.

"Just so we’re clear," I said, leaning into her space. I didn't lower my voice. "The marriage is twelve months. Exactly."

She didn't flinch. She just nodded, her tongue tracing her bottom lip.

"And," I added, my voice turning to ice. "There will be no sex. None. Ever."

Eunice stopped moving. Her mouth popped open, and then she let out a bark of laughter that drew eyes from the next table. "What? No sex? How does that work? We’re getting married, right?"

My jaw tightened until I heard a click. I wasn't looking for a debate. I wanted a ghost, someone to fill a space and keep their hands off me. 

"Those are the terms," I said. "Simple and clean."

Eunice glanced at Sabrina, then back at me, her expression shifting from amused to predatory. "Christian didn't tell me I was signing up for a convent. I mean, look at you." She gestured at me like I was a piece of meat on a hook. "How is it possible to be in the same house as a man like you and not... you know? Is something broken down there?"

Beside me, Christian and Sabrina exploded into laughter. It was the kind of loud, mocking sound that made my blood boil. I felt the heat crawling up my neck, a mix of old mafia rage and pure, unadulterated frustration.

"Where the hell did you find her?" I muttered at Christian.

Eunice didn't care. She leaned forward, her chest spilling over the table, her scent cloying and heavy. "Seriously, though. How about we just test the waters? Right now. In the back."

"Are you kidding me?" I stood up so fast my chair nearly tipped.

This was a circus. I didn't want an escort looking for a payday and a thrill. I wanted a business partner. 

"Unbelievable," I snapped. I looked at Christian, but he was too busy wiping tears of laughter from his eyes to see the warning in mine. 

I turned and walked away. I didn't need this. I didn't need Eunice’s hands on me, and I didn't need to be reminded of why I was in this mess to begin with.

Hera.

The name was a bruise on my soul. I’d cheated on her once. One night of weakness that became a poison in our relationship. She found out, and the world burned. I could still feel the sting of her palm across my face, the way her eyes looked right before she ran out the door. The last time I saw her alive, she was screaming that she hated the man I’d become. 

Then the phone call. The crash. The silence that had lasted two years.

I’d killed her. Maybe not with my hands, but with my choices. Being with another woman felt like desecrating a grave.

I moved through the crowd, my steps heavy. Christian was shouting my name, but I ignored him. I was done with his "help." I was done with everything.

I turned a corner toward the exit, my head down, and slammed into something soft. 

The impact was solid. I reacted on instinct, my hands shooting out to catch a pair of slim shoulders before she could hit the floor. I pulled her flush against my chest to steady her, the heat of her body seeping through my shirt.

I looked down, ready to bark an apology and keep moving.

The words died in my throat.

The blue eyes were wide, startled, and shimmering under the club lights. Her dark hair was a mess. She looked like a heart attack in a silk dress.

"Isayanna?" My voice was a wrecked whisper. "What the hell are you doing here?"