Seven Minutes with my Ex's Uncle

On the night Layla turned eighteen, she learned two things: betrayal stings worse when it’s public, and desire doesn’t care about rules. What began as a harmless birthday celebration ended with a single reckless choice—one that crossed lines, shattered loyalties, and bound her to the one man she was never supposed to want. Seven minutes was all it took to change everything.

NIGHT CLUB

The bass from the speakers slammed through the nightclub, vibrating the floor and rattling the walls of The Velvet Serpent. Red and purple neon lights sliced across the packed room, flashing over bodies pressed together, sweat-slick skin, polished leather, and glittering heels.

Smoke curled lazily through the air, carrying the sharp mix of perfume, alcohol, and something darker—something dangerous.

Tonight was supposed to matter.Layla stood near the edge of the dance floor, fingers curled around the thin strap of her shimmering top as nerves fluttered low in her stomach.

Eighteen. Officially an adult.

The word felt heavy and important—like a door she’d been waiting her entire life to open.

Her best friend Chloe bounced beside her, excitement radiating from every movement as glitter clinged stubbornly to her eyelids.

“I told you,” Chloe shouted over the music, grinning. “No boring family dinners,no awkward cake. This is how you celebrate adulthood.”

Layla forced a smile, trying to let the moment sink in.She had imagined this night so many times—laughter, music, Liam’s arms around her, his lips against hers at midnight, a kiss that meant something more because everything was supposed to be different now.

Her eyes scanned the crowd instinctively and then she saw him.Relief bloomed for half a second as Liam came into view, leaning casually against the bar with his dark hair falling into his eyes and a drink loose in his hand.

Layla started toward him, weaving through the crowd as her heart raced with anticipation.

Then she noticed a girl beside Liam. She was beautiful with bright pink lipstick and a sharp smile. Her body was angled into Liam’s space in a way that felt far too intimate. One manicured hand rested on his arm as she laughed, head tipped back.

Layla slowed while the music dulled, as if someone had turned the volume down inside her skull. The room seemed to tilt and then tilted as the girl leaned in.

A thin piece of tissue paper separated their mouths—laughably flimsy, a childish rule in a drunken game—but it didn’t soften the blow. Liam didn’t pull away or hesitate. His lips met hers easily, as if Layla didn’t exist while his hand slid to the girl’s waist.

Layla stopped completely.Eighteen years old—and this was how it began.

Her chest hollowed, breath catching painfully as humiliation washed over her in a hot, dizzying wave. She wanted to scream, to run or to disappear into the noise and lights and never be seen again.

Chloe reached her side, breathless, then followed Layla’s frozen stare. The color drained from her face.

“Oh my God,” Chloe whispered. “Layla… no.”

As the kiss ended. The girl laughed softly, nestling closer to Liam’s chest. He smirked lazily and carelessly—like the world was exactly as he wanted it.

Just then a harsh laugh cut through the moment.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” one of Liam’s friends slurred, eyes gleaming with drunken amusement. “Birthday girl herself.”

Another voice chimed in, sharper.“Perfect timing.”

A bottle appeared, shoved onto the bar top. Vodka sloshed violently as someone spun it with exaggerated flair.

“Truth or dare!” a girl shrieked.

The group erupted with cheers.

Chloe stiffened. “Leave her alone.”

They didn’t listen.The bottle spun faster,slower,clicked once,twice and then stopped,pointing directly at Layla.

“Ohhh, this just got good!” someone shouted as cheer exploded. “Birthday girl’s turn!”

Hands grabbed at her arms, pulling her forward before she could protest. Layla stumbled slightly, heels catching, heart hammering as she was shoved into the center of the circle.

Every eye was on her.She felt exposed and stripped bare under their anticipation.

Liam finally looked at her then,just briefly. No apology,no guilt deep enough to matter,just a flicker of discomfort… and then nothing. He didn’t step forward or stop the girl that still pressed against him. He just treated her like she was invisible.

“Dare,” someone decided for her, grinning. “No way she gets truth.”

Layla’s stomach dropped.

“What’s the dare?” someone asked eagerly.

Everyone paused and then—

“Seven minutes in heaven.”

Laughter rippled through the group.

“With any guy you want.”

The expectation was immediate and crushing as whispers started.

“ She’ll pick him.”

“ Of course she’ll pick him. She always does.”

They wanted her humiliated and begging,still loyal after everything.

Something inside Layla snapped.The ache in her chest cooled into something sharper, dangerous defiance.

Her gaze drifted past the smirking faces, past Liam and the girl clinging to him, to the shadows beyond the bar.

That was where he stood.A man untouched by the chaos,leaning casually against a pillar with his arms folded and expression unreadable. He was older and broader,still,his presence felt deliberate—controlled in a way that made the air around him seem heavier.He has dark hair brushed with faint silver at the temples with a sharp jaw and eyes that didn’t laugh.

The man people warned her not to talk to,the man who watched instead of participating.

As his gaze met hers,he didn’t look amused or shocked. He looked… curious.

The room waited for a while and then Layla lifted her chin and pointed at him.

“I choose him.”