Chapter 2

I was still on the bed, curled up like a crumpled napkin, my pillow soaked from the aftermath of that call. The room smelled like sweat and stale lavender body mist. My tears had finally slowed, but my chest still heaved in silent hiccups. My phone lay dead-faced on the carpet beside the bed like it had betrayed me.

  The front door was suddenly yanked open and Mala strode into the room like a wind.

  "Ivy!"

  Mala Crude has been my best friend and only friend for as long as I can remember she is my savior, the storm I never asked for but always needed, she exploded into the apartment like a firework. She was wearing tight black jeans, a cropped mesh top, and her signature hot pink braids were piled high in a ponytail that bobbed like it had attitude of its own. She smelled like rum, vanilla lotion, and neon lights.

  She took one look at me and froze.

  "Oh, babe."

  I tried to sit up, but my limbs were weighted with grief. My eyes felt like sandbags.

  Mala dropped her purse and strode over. She knelt beside the bed and studied me the way a mother might study a wounded bird. Mala has been my rock, I moved in with her after I left My last Foster Home.

  I lost my parents at the age of Fourteen, being an only child I was all alone, no relatives that I knew of anyway. I was taken from one foster home to the other, I ran away from my first foster home because of the cruelty of my then foster mom, she used me like a maid in the house and I was made to stop schooling. 

  I stayed in three foster homes afterwards but the last one before I met Mala was the absolute worst, my dickhead foster brother tried to rape me, he attempted it twice and I was so scared I ran away. I was sitting on a bench in the subway with my luggage on my lap, absolutely confused and dejected when a teenager sat beside me, it was mala, high spirited and sassy. She held my hands and took me home with her and that has been it ever since.

  "What is the matter, Ivy?" she asked gently, brushing a lock of my tangled blonde hair from my cheek.

  I swallowed, clearing my croaked voice

  “He answered,” I whispered. “Zavier. I called him.” I told her, unable to look her in the eyes, I know how she feels about my relationship with Zavier.

  Her brows knitted. “And?”

  I closed my eyes. “He laughed. There was another girl there. He called me a child... said no man wants to wait for someone who won’t give it up, then he hung up on me.”

  Her face tightened like a fist.

  Mala stood up slowly, pacing the small room like she was trying to contain the fire building in her chest.

  "That absolute dickweed," she hissed. "I knew he was trash, Ivy. I knew it from the second I saw him spit on the sidewalk in front of that old lady."

  I tried to chuckle, but it came out more like a croak, yeah, I am a dumb fool, Mala warned me but I didn't listen.

  Mala turned to face me again, arms crossed. "You listen to me. That man was a manipulative, lying, low-rent, grease-slick loser who used you. You were not the problem. He was. And honestly? I’m glad, yes Ivana, stop looking at me like a puppy, I’m glad he’s gone."

  I blinked at her, stunned.

  She softened, calmed herself and sat beside me on the edge of the bed.

  "Because now," she said, pressing her palm to my knee, "you finally have the chance to find someone who deserves you. Someone who'll crawl on his knees to kiss your damn feet.", you gorgeous goddess, you were too good for him anyway.

  A tear slipped down my cheek. She wiped it away with her thumb.

  “I just feel so worthless,” I whispered.

  “That’s because you’ve been with someone who made you feel that way for so long, you forgot what it’s like to feel powerful. And baby, you are powerful. You’re fucking radiant.”

  I sniffled. “I just want to disappear. Sleep for a year, maybe ten or perhaps forever.”

  Mala stood abruptly her eyes lit up with a mischievous fire I recognized all too well.

  "Nope, not happening. You know what you need? A night out."

  My body sagged. "Mala, please… I look like a raccoon who got hit by a truck."

  "And?” she said, already rifling through her closet. “We’ll fix that. Tonight, we get drunk, wear something scandalous, and remind the world that Ivana Prute is a goddamn goddess."

  I pulled my blanket over my head. “I just want to cry into my pillow and die quietly.”

  She yanked the blanket away. “Denied. You’re coming out. Because my man Rafe scored us guest passes to the Midnight Pleasure Club."

  I blinked. “The what now?”

  Mala turned to grin at me like she’d just announced we won the lottery.

  "You heard me. Midnight Pleasure. The club. The one with the secret list, the masked billionaires, the burlesque stage shows, the BDSM rooms—yeah, that one."

  My eyes widened. “You want to take me to a sex club?”

  “A luxury sex club,” she corrected. “It’s invitation only, super elite. Rafe’s been working bar there for a month. He got us in for tonight, no strings, no pressure, Just music, alcohol, and hot people being hot."

  I covered my face. “Mala, I can’t...."

  She pulled out a cherry-red mini dress and held it up. “This dress disagrees. So do your boobs, by the way. They deserve to breathe."

  I looked at the dress. I looked at her. I groaned.

  "One night. You owe me," she said, winking. “Drink, dance, and forget that sleaze bag. That’s the goal."

  I stared at her, trying to hold onto my misery.

  But she was relentless.

  She always was.

  And the truth was? I didn’t want to feel like a corpse anymore.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “But if I throw up in your shoes, it’s on you."

  Mala squealed, tossing the dress at me.

  “Atta girl. Let’s get you ready to ruin lives.”