Switch personality

Chapter 25

Miranda’s POV

It was already 8 p.m., and I couldn’t wait for it to be 9 so I could finally leave this place.

The loud music, the flashing lights, and the smell of alcohol filling the air were starting to get to me. Herrick and his friends were deep into their party, drinking like there was no tomorrow. Laughter echoed around them as they moved carelessly to the rhythm of the music.

I sat quietly at a corner table, watching them.

This side of Herrick wasn’t new to me. It was actually the first version of him I had met—the carefree, reckless man who enjoyed clubbing and late nights. But at the office, he was completely different. Calm. Focused. Strict, even.

Sometimes I wondered how one person could switch personalities so easily.

Or maybe… he never really changed. Maybe he just chose which version of himself to show depending on where he was.

I leaned back slightly, folding my arms as I continued observing them. I didn’t belong here. That much was obvious. I was only here because of work, nothing more.

Then I noticed two women walking toward Herrick.

They were dressed boldly, their outfits extremely short and eye-catching. Their makeup was heavy, almost too much, but they carried themselves with confidence as they approached him.

Herrick saw them and smiled immediately.

So he had been expecting them.

They didn’t waste time before they started dancing with him, pressing close without any hesitation.

I looked away.

It wasn’t my business.

Then I noticed someone approaching me from the corner of my eye.

It was the same guy who had earlier called me Herrick’s girl.

He walked over casually, holding a glass of alcohol in his hand, and sat across from me without asking.

“Hey, pretty,” he said with a grin.

I forced a small smile out of politeness, then quickly looked away, making it clear I wasn’t interested in a conversation.

“I can tell you’re not Herrick’s girl,” he continued. “You’re just sitting here while he dances with those sluts.”

His words made me frown slightly.

“I’m glad you figured that out,” I replied calmly. “I’m his secretary, not his girlfriend.”

“Ohh, that explains it,” he said, nodding as if everything suddenly made sense.

I gave a short nod in return, hoping that would end the conversation.

But it didn’t.

He looked at me again, this time with a slight frown. “Why aren’t you drinking anything?” he asked.

“I’m fine like this, thank you,” I replied.

“Come on,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t be in a place like this and just sit there looking bored. I’ll be right back.”

Before I could stop him, he stood up and walked away.

I sighed quietly.

A few moments later, he returned with another glass of drink and stretched it toward me.

“Here, I got this for you.”

I shook my head immediately. “No, I’m okay. I don’t want to get drunk while I’m still working.”

“This isn’t your workplace,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s a club. Relax.”

He gently pushed the glass into my hand.

I hesitated for a moment, then took it.

Since he insisted, I could just have one glass. It wouldn’t hurt.

I lifted the drink and took a sip.

Then another.

Before I realized it, I had finished it in just a few gulps.

I placed the empty glass back on the table.

The taste was different from what I was used to. It was smoother… almost too smooth.

“Can I get one more?” I heard myself ask.

The words slipped out before I could think.

“Of course,” he replied immediately, a satisfied smile forming on his lips.

He signaled to a waiter, and another glass was brought to me.

“Thank you,” I said as I took it.

This time, I drank more slowly, enjoying the taste.

But even then, it didn’t take long before the glass was empty again.

A strange heaviness settled over me.

My eyes started to feel heavy, and my head slightly light.

The drink was stronger than I thought.

Still, I didn’t stop.

I ordered another.

And another.

Everything around me started to blur slightly, the music sounding louder than before.

At some point, I checked the time on my phone.

9 p.m.

Finally.

I pushed myself up from the chair, trying my best to stay steady.

The guy who had been with me was no longer there. He had joined Herrick and the others on the dance floor.

Good.

That made it easier.

Without drawing attention to myself, I slipped out of the club quietly.

The fresh air outside hit my face immediately, but it didn’t help much.

I still felt dizzy.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone, trying to order a ride, but my vision was too blurry to focus properly.

After a few failed attempts, I gave up.

I would just get a taxi.

I walked slowly toward the roadside, careful with each step.

My heels made it harder to balance, and the ground felt unsteady beneath me.

I stood there for a while, scanning the road for any sign of a taxi.

None.

Minutes passed, and my legs began to ache from standing too long.

I shifted my weight slightly, trying to ease the discomfort.

But the moment I moved, my balance failed me.

I staggered.

Before I could react, my body tilted backward.

I was about to hit the ground—

But I didn’t.

Instead, I fell against something solid.

Warm.

Strong.

A pair of arms caught me firmly before I could fall.

For a moment, everything felt still.

I could feel the steady rise and fall of the person’s chest beneath me.

His grip was firm but careful, holding me in place.

Then I noticed it.

His scent.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

My heart skipped slightly.

I quickly pulled away from him, forcing myself to stand upright as I tried to look at his face.

My vision blurred for a second, then cleared.

And I froze.

It was him.

Bruno.

I blinked, closing my eyes briefly before opening them again, just to be sure I wasn’t imagining things.

But he was still there.

“Martina,” he called, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

I frowned immediately.

Why did he sound worried?

Why would he care?

What was he even doing here?

A part of me didn’t want to think about it.

Not now.

Not in this state.

I let out a small hiss and turned away from him, attempting to walk off.

I couldn’t deal with Bruno.

Not like this.

Not when I could barely think straight.

Not today.