Chapter 3: The Unexpected Contact.

Riley’s POV

I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.

Smoky eyes. Loose waves down my shoulders. The red dress hugged my body like it had been tailored to my pain. It didn’t just fit, it declared.

“Damn,” I whispered.

Aria popped into the reflection behind me, lipstick in hand, grinning like chaos in heels.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I look hot.”

“Hotter than Celeste in a house fire,” she grinned, holding up a high-five. “Let’s go.”

We laughed. Loud. Almost real. And we walked out like we had nothing to lose, because maybe we didn’t.

****

At Velvet Room

Velvet Room wasn’t just a club. It was fantasy made flesh, dark marble floors, chandeliers dripping like frozen fire, and music that crawled through your veins.

We didn’t walk in. We arrived.

The waiter led us to a booth tucked into the shadows, private, but close enough to feel the music pulsing in our bones.

Aria grinned. “What’s your poison?”

“Something strong. Something that makes me forget Eric and Celeste ever existed.”

“Two Velvet Reds. Extra shots,” she told the bartender without blinking.

We clinked glasses. Bass dropped. Lights shimmered. And for a moment, the pain blurred beneath glitter and alcohol and Aria’s laughter.

“You’re glowing again,” she said, squinting through drooping lashes.

I smiled faintly, but my stomach turned.

Just a ripple at first. A wrongness.

Aria caught it instantly. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah…” I blinked slowly. “I think the drink’s stronger than I thought.”

“Want water? I will walk you.”

“I just need to freshen up.”

She nodded and pointed down a dim hallway. I slid out of the booth, legs heavier than they should have been.

I hadn’t even finished half the glass.

****

Restroom – Moments Later

I gripped the sink like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to earth. Cold water hit my face, but the fog in my head didn’t lift.

My vision warped. My heartbeat stuttered.

Heat coiled in my stomach, twisting lower, threading through my limbs like wildfire.

Something was wrong.

I stumbled out of the restroom, panic slicing through the haze.

The music throbbed too loud. The lights were too bright. And I couldn’t find Aria.

I turned, and crashed into something solid.

No. Someone.

Strong hands caught my shoulders. My fingers curled into a jacket, expensive, warm, unfamiliar.

I looked up into a face I didn’t know.

Sharp cheekbones. Cold eyes like steel. A stranger.

But something about him... steady. Controlled. Dangerous.

My body leaned into him, unasked. My breath caught his scent, dark spice, heat, money.

“You’re not okay,” he said. His voice was low. Velvety. Firm.

“I... I don’t know what’s happening,” I whispered. My voice trembled. My knees buckled slightly.

He didn’t let me fall.

“Come with me,” he said.

And for a terrifying second, I did.

****

Michael’s POV

The boardroom inside the VIP lounge buzzed with fake smiles and overpoured whiskey. Jazz murmured through hidden speakers, wrapping everything in an illusion of civility.

Michael Gray sat at the head of the table, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.

Across from him: Richard Langford. Professional charmer. Strategic snake. Beside him, Clarisse Langford, dressed in silk and ambition.

“We want more than a merger,” Richard said smoothly, sliding a glass toward Michael. “We want family. Loyalty. Shared... interests.”

Clarisse’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Michael lifted the glass slowly. He wasn’t stupid. This wasn’t about business.

It was bait.

He took a sip, but something was off. Not the taste. The way his chest clenched. The sudden static in his skin. The crawl under his collar.

His instincts screamed.

“Excuse me,” he said, standing with quiet control. “I need a moment.”

He walked calmly out of the room.

But everything inside him was not calm.

His breath was too fast. His vision too sharp, then not sharp enough.

He moved toward the restroom on instinct. Water. Air. Anything.

He pushed open the door. Leaned over the sink. Splashed water on his face.

It didn’t help.

The heat surged higher. His fingertips tingled. His heartbeat punched against his ribs.

Something’s wrong.

Then the door opened.

He turned.

And saw her.

A woman. Red dress. Glazed eyes. Disoriented.

Beautiful.

She stumbled forward, reaching for anything. Reaching for him.

He caught her instinctively. Held her up.

“I… I don’t feel right,” she whispered.

Neither do I.

She looked up at him like he was the only thing real in a spinning world.

And for reasons he couldn’t explain, he didn’t let go.

“I need to go,” she muttered.

“I will take you,” he said quietly.

She didn’t ask who he was. He didn’t ask who she was.

All he knew was this:

He needed to get her out of there.

And she didn’t resist.

****

Meanwhile…

Back at the VIP table, Richard checked his watch. Clarisse sipped her drink, unimpressed.

“He’s been gone too long,” she said sharply.

“Maybe he needed air,” Richard replied, rising. “I will check.”

They walked toward the corridor.

“Michael?” Richard called, knocking on the restroom door.

No answer.

He pushed the door open.

Empty.

No water. No echo. Just nothing.

Clarisse’s jaw tightened.

They flagged a waiter.

“Did you see where Mr. Gray went?” Richard asked.

The waiter nodded. “Yes, sir. About ten minutes ago. He left.”

Richard blinked. “Alone?”

“No, sir. With a woman.”

Clarisse’s expression darkened instantly.

Richard straightened his tie.

“Well,” he said coolly. “That was… unexpected.”

Clarisse’s eyes followed the direction the stranger had gone.

And for the first time that night , the game changed.