LOGINThe car rolls to a stop and just like that the driver, Curly, is stepping outside. Reed then pulls the back door handle keeping his lips nearly on top of mine.
“Go see what fate decides” humor in his eyes like he’s sure of something yet to be seen. I struggle to get out of the car. Damn this dress for being so fitted. As I step out Curly receives my hand noticing my struggle and that’s when I decide now is the perfect time to make my receptional debut. Reed is out of the car and I look toward him grabbing at the back of my bustle “do me a favor Reed Malcolm and hold this for me” I say with as much poise and authority as possible. His hand takes the bustle looking confused and unsure. I find the hidden zipper underneath the fabric and gracefully spin to allow the dress to unzip while Reed stands there as if I just performed a magic trick. The bottom of the dress drops to the ground. “There” I say to myself “much better”. Another part of my defiant choices in mother in law . I made sure to get a dress that could be converted into something she would loathe. A break from traditional class and a rebellion of my own agenda. My dress, now short and fitted just below my ass, reveals the curves of my thighs and could be considered borderline club apparel. The corseted bodice flows into a heavily sequenced and designed bottom half to cover up one asset at least but leaves little to the imagination with the deep plunging neckline. My legs are glowing from the moon and body oil and my heels are tall enough to make a woman’s legs sore for days. Reed clears his throat and curly turns towards the docks acting as if he was giving me some privacy. I then fidget my dress into place and sweep my long black curls over my shoulders and look at Reed, who looks like he could turn a person to stone. “You are not wearing that on board” he orders. I look at him with a pausing glance through my lashes and keep my voice light but confident. “ I’m not your wife. I will not be attending a party looking like a runaway bride. I told you to take me back to my flat.If you don’t like my personal choice of style remember it was your decision to hold me hostage. It doesn’t mean I’m going to be a law abiding prisoner. His fists close and then open again like he’s trying to control himself. “Have it your way.” He turns to the car, grabs his suit jacket, tosses the flower from the pocket and then walks up beside me grabbing my waist turning me toward the docks to walk while keeping me close. I look towards the water and my eyes are wide. I didn’t realize we were getting on a yacht that was almost the size of a cruise ship. There is security all around the parking lot but also this was a private drive that was heavily secured as well. Nobody could get in to this party without an invitation. It’s exclusively private. We walk past security and I can see all eyes on me but they don’t say anything or check for an invite. They let us through without a word. As we walk up the ramp Reed is scanning the party guests. He walks me inside where the party is and I am completely blown out of my element. This is not just a Yacht party. This is like a casino met a strip club and inside anything goes. Suddenly, I can feel my feisty Side slowly starting to grovel away. Reed is smiling out of the corner of his eye, keeping his hand on my waist as he guides me over to a private booth. I sit down, crossing my ankles as much as I can. Damn this dress for being so short. The lighting inside is low and blue. Dancers are placed all around. people are gambling and paying for pleasure. The bar is full of guests that are without a doubt famous or rich. As I look towards the poker tables I can see men lining up to do what looks like lines of coke off of a woman’s bosoms. As I’m slowly scanning the room I realize something quite obvious. All the guests are men, and all the workers are women. Dancers, Bartenders, cocktail waitresses in fact all of them I’m pretty sure are barely even covered. Men are lining up to go back to private rooms and others are paying to have their shoulders rubbed while they look like they’re about to lose a fortune. One woman is on a platform in a cage playing with a giant python and another one is dancing flames. The setting is quite incredible honestly. Four men quickly approach Reed. “Boss” the biggest one says. “We have a guest situation”. Reed is sitting next to me with both arms splayed across the top of the booths and a foot kicked out. His expression is emotionless and he looks at me and then to Curly “Fetch us a bottle, and don’t let her out of your sight. This won’t take long”. All the men are staring at me and others too from around the party. Suddenly I wish I had the other half of my dress and a jacket.I slam my shoulder into the door and the frame gives with a crack. Zach barely has time to stand before I’m on him. My hand fists in his shirt and I drive him back against the wall hard enough that the drywall dents. “Where the fuck is she?” The words come out low and ragged. He shoves me off and swings. The punch lands solid on my jaw and pain blooms bright and hot. I answer with a fist to his gut and he folds. I grab the back of his head and drive my knee up into his face. Blood sprays across the floor. He stumbles back, gasping, but he’s not done. He lunges and we crash into the coffee table. Wood splinters beneath us. I end up on top, forearm crushing down on his throat. “She’s not yours, Reed,” he chokes out. My face is inches from his. “She was never yours to begin with.” He claws at my arm, eyes wide. “She just needed space.” I press harder. “Space from me? After what we built?” My voice drops to something dark and quiet. “She’s mine, Zach. Mine to break.
Emily’s POV I pull off at the next exit, the glowing sign of a hotel catching my eye. I deserve something decent tonight. The lobby is quiet, the lighting warm. I check in without much conversation and take the key card for room 223. Upstairs, the room smells clean, like fresh linens and faint citrus. I drop my bag, kick off my shoes, and head straight for the bathroom. The shower is glass and marble, the water pressure strong... thank god. I turn it on hot and step under the spray. My mind drifts back to Reed though as if my body won’t let me forget the pleasure of him in the shower. The way he pressed me against the tile that night, water running down both our bodies. His hands gripping my hips, his mouth hot against my neck. I turn the dial hotter, letting the heat bite into my skin the same way his touch did. My breath catches. I stay there longer than I need to, letting the memory wash over me. When I finally get out, I wrap myself in one of the thick white towels and tip
I wake up to a dull headache at the forefront of my face. I roll over and embrace the warm sheets, then suddenly feel the urgent need to pee. My bare feet hit the cold tile and I realize they’re gritty and dirty from dancing the night before. Part of me can’t believe I danced for a bunch of men at a club. Another part of me feels a chip on my shoulder for finally doing something reckless and not feeling guilty about it. I make my way to the kitchen and reach for my phone. The screen lights up. My stomach drops. “Oh my god, did I really post that?” I tap the photo. There I am in that tight black dress, long dark hair falling over one shoulder, pale skin glowing under the neon lights, Zach smiling beside me like a proud idiot. I look good. Really good. Scrolling through the comments, I see the usual questions. “Where have you been? Has the bride made a return? Who’s the new beau?” One friend wrote, “Is that Zach from high school? Didn’t realize you guys were still friends.” Another
Emily’s POV I step up to the bouncers with Zach at my side. The bigger one shakes his head. “No can do buddy we’re at capacity.” Zach tries to charm him. “Come on, man, I just want to give my girl a good time.” He winks at me. The bouncer looks me over and smirks. “That’s great, dude, but the only people I have room for tonight are the ones working.” A shiver runs down my spine as the alcohol hits harder. I lift my chin. “Who says I won’t work?” The house mom appears beside us in full drag, glitter catching the lights, heels clicking. “Oh honey, if you want to work I can give you a spot. That dress, those heels, that shade of lipstick? The guys will be eating you alive. Trust me.” I let out a sheepish giggle, the sound bubbling up before I can stop it. Zach groans beside me. “Well by all means, doll me up and get me on this dance floor,” I say, the defiance already burning through the nerves. They wave us through. Zach tries to grab my arm. “Hey Emily—” bu
Emily’s POV I pause and look at myself in the mirror, finally seeing myself for just me. The deep red lipstick is my favorite. The bold eyes make me feel like I am someone to be treasured and not someone to be looked over. As I admire the black dress that clings to my waist, I also take a moment to gaze over my tattoo. A wolf singing to the moon outlined across my forearm. The only reason I got this tattoo was not just to be a defiant bride, but because the moon reminded me of my mother. It was in honor to her, to be her little wolf, which is what she used to call me. While my mother may have disappeared into the night, this tattoo serves as a reminder to remember her and honor her. She may not have had her mother physically by her side on her wedding day, but she had her memory. My father, as much as I loved him, was not pleased with the tattoo, knowing what it meant. He had a lot of disdain for my mother for some reason I never understood. My future in-laws hated anything that was
Reed POV I check my phone again. Fifteen calls. Fifteen. Zach’s never ignored me this long.I pace the length of my private office, the walls closing in while my mind runs through every scenario where Emily could be in danger right now.My fist tightens around the phone. If he doesn’t pick up, I’m driving straight to his place and dragging him out by the collar.I type the text with my thumb, each word sharp.Zach, if you don’t pick up your goddamn phone, I will be there sooner than you can call me back.The message sends. I stare at the screen, willing it to light up.When it finally rings, I answer before the first tone finishes.“Where the hell have you been?”Zach’s voice comes through loud, music and voices swelling in the background like he’s at a bar or a club.“Sorry, man. Needed a day off. Been out blowing off some steam.”The casual tone only makes my blood run hotter.“A day off? While Emily’s out there God knows where? Sober the fuck up and do your job. I need a location.







