03

Kat's POV

The dull throb behind my eyes told me I’d slept too long. Blinking against the haze, I squinted at the figure standing by the bed. Noelle.

"Elle?" My voice came out hoarse.

“You’ve been out cold all morning,” she said, tossing her barrel bag onto the bed. The faint scent of her perfume clung to the air — fresh, sweet, and unmistakably her.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “I must’ve needed it.”

“Well, before I leave, I want to ask you something…” Noelle's voice turned sharp, her gaze narrowing.

I knew what was coming.

"Why are you back so suddenly?"

Here we go.

"He wasn't around when I got here," I said smoothly. "I called him, and he said he was going on a trip. Didn't leave a key behind, and apparently, the trip’s going to take longer than expected."

Suspicion flickered across her face. "And all the time you two spoke the day before yesterday, he didn’t mention that?” Her brow arched. “Why am I not convinced?”

I turned my head away, pretending to adjust my pillow.

Noelle sighed, stepping back. “Fine. I won’t push you... yet.”

That was Noelle — always knowing when to back off.

“Where are you going?” I asked, changing the subject.

She smiled slyly. “Got a rich guy. Asked me out for a drink.”

I scoffed. “Yeah? Is he blind?”

“Shut up.” She laughed. “Are you coming with me?”

“Hell no.” I buried my face back in the pillow.

“Suit yourself.”

But as she reached the door, I caved.

“Okay… I’m coming.”

Her face split into a wide grin.

---

Aiden’s POV

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” I barked into the phone.

“Sir, we’ve checked all her usual spots. She’s not—”

“Get the fuck out of my phone!” I roared and hurled the device across the room. It hit the door with a satisfying crash.

“Second phone’s broken. Nice one, billionaire prince,” Gavin snorted from across the room.

“Oh, shut up.” I dragged my hands down my face. “Why can’t they find her? I need to find her.”

“You’ve been saying that since I walked in. What’s she done to you? Are you falling in love?” Gavin teased.

“If you knew…” I trailed off, slumping onto the couch.

I barely noticed when Gavin grabbed my hand. His touch was warm — too warm.

I looked up, blinking at a pair of violet eyes peering into mine. The face was soft, sweet… familiar.

“Hey, Manny.”

Gavin’s voice jerked me back to reality.

The violet-eyed woman was gone. Gavin stood there instead, his ugly hand still gripping mine.

“You okay?” he asked.

I yanked my hand free. “Don’t ever touch me again,” I snapped, scrubbing my palm against my jeans.

Gavin barked out a laugh. “Relax, man. You’re losing it.”

I shot him a glare.

“Come on, let’s go get drunk,” he said, grabbing his jacket.

I barely reacted — until he added, “Maybe you’ll see her at the bar.”

My head snapped up.

“See?” He grinned. “She’s the only language you understand now.”

He wasn’t wrong.

---

Kat's POV

Bar Star was a mess of noise and chaos. The thumping bass pounded in my chest, and sweaty bodies filled every corner of the dance floor. I should’ve stayed in bed.

"This was a bad idea," I shouted to Noelle over the music.

“I know, right?” she yelled back. “But you loved this scene back in college!”

I groaned. That was then — back when I had energy and didn’t mind crowds.

“Please cheer up. I’m going to dance.”

Before she could leave, I grabbed her wrist.

“Are you serious? This wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Join me if you can.” She winked, then disappeared into the crowd.

“Bitch…” I muttered.

I barely had time to finish sulking before someone slid into Noelle’s empty seat. His crooked brown teeth flashed as he grinned, and the stench of stale beer rolled off him like a wave.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he slurred, swaying slightly.

“Nope.” I grabbed my purse and bolted for the exit.

The cool night air hit me like a splash of cold water. I stood there, breathing deeply, grateful for the quiet.

“Rough night?” a voice asked.

I turned to see a man leaning against the wall, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His sharp eyes glinted under the flickering streetlamp.

“You know,” he said with a smirk, “you could drink and forget your worries.”

I almost laughed. That was the worst pickup line I’d heard in years.

“Are you asking me out for a drink?” I asked.

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

I eyed him carefully. Tall. Clean-shaven. His clothes looked too expensive for this side of town. Something about him felt... off.

Still, after the day I’d had? Screw it.

“Fine,” I muttered. “But you’re buying.”

---

The bar was still crowded, but I found comfort in the seat and the strong drink in my hand.

“Vermouth,” I’d ordered.

“Sangria,” the stranger had said.

I took a careful sip, the bitterness spreading across my tongue.

“Nice mix,” I murmured.

“Feels good, right?” the stranger asked.

“Se siente bien,” I replied in Spanish.

His brows lifted. “Impressive.”

I drained half my glass in one go, barely feeling the burn. The stranger's gaze followed my movements, sharp and calculating.

“You always drink like that?” he asked, his tone casual — too casual.

I set my glass down with a deliberate clink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his lips curving into a smug smile. “Just seems like you’ve had some practice.”

I laughed dryly. “Please — what, you think this is my first rodeo?” I grabbed my glass again, swirling the amber liquid inside. “I’ve been drinking like this since I knew what alcohol feels like. Should I pace myself? Sip politely like I’m some dainty little debutante?” I took another gulp, locking eyes with him. “Or would you prefer I pretend I don’t know how to handle my liquor?”

His smile faltered just a little, but he recovered fast. “Didn’t mean to offend,” he said, lifting his own glass in a mock toast.

“Yeah?” I shot back. “Well, you did.”

I finished my drink and slammed the empty glass on the table, the sound sharp enough to draw a few stares.

“Another,” I muttered to the bartender.

“Relax,” he murmured, leaning closer. “You get more interesting by the second.”

I shot him a look. “You guys all say that,” I muttered. “Then what? You play with my feelings, get under my pants, and ditch me for some other available slut?”

Instead of being insulted, he burst out laughing.

I stared at him, stunned by how much this guy seemed to enjoy himself.

“No,” he said between chuckles. “Yeah, you’re driving me crazy with those hips and killer curves…” His gaze slid downward, and I stiffened.

“But,” he leaned in close, his breath warm against my cheek, “I think I’ve fallen for you... and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine.”

My breath hitched. I grabbed my glass, downing the entire drink in one go.

Blame it on the alcohol — or maybe on Noah, who ditched me for his sister.